Everyone’s heard of Stephenie Meyer’s novel, Twilight, whether they’ve read it or not. It’s hard not to be aware of its existence if you’re at all acquainted with teenage girls.
The plot is rather simple: Bella Swan meets Edward Cullen, a vampire who lusts for her blood, yet she falls in love with him. Since he loves her in return, he manages to resist the urge to kill her. Then they encounter another vampire, James, who tries to kill Bella and, of course, it’s up to Edward to save her.
I honestly read this book only for the purpose of mocking it, though I did try to keep an open mind. Romance novels, particularly ones involving “vegetarian” vampires, quickly instill cruel laughter on my part, and I generally avoid them for that reason, but in all fairness, there are some positive aspects to this one. I don’t blame people for liking it—it is rather entertaining. I would be lying if I told you I didn’t stay up late, glued to the last few chapters, wanting to know how Bella was going to escape James.
While I don’t like the main characters, I can see why they’re appealing. Bella was easy to relate to: shy, clumsy, and insecure with her physical appearance. Specifically, Edward’s appeal is difficult to deny. What girl doesn’t want a guy who zealously protects her, tells her she’s beautiful, and is attractive to boot? Well, as long as we ignore the whole “I want to eat you” side to him.
That’s where we fall into the rut, actually—Edward. Before I read Twilight, I knew he was the feature character in it, the one all the girls loved. Therefore, when I started reading it, I was expecting some cliché Prince Charming character. Instead, I found myself thinking, “What a jerk.” That’s right, ladies, I just called Edward Cullen a jerk. Please don’t tell me you didn’t notice him telling Bella what to do all the time—like when they were in the restaurant and he ordered her when to eat, when to drink, because that one hit me in the face. Maybe I’m just weird, but the control freak personality is a turn-off to me. Then there’s the part where he admits to staying outside her window all night, watching her sleep, and she got a little embarrassed but otherwise wasn’t bothered by it. Again, maybe I’m just weird, but I think I’d be getting a restraining order if a guy did that—not that a restraining order would do any good against a vampire.
There was actually a scene in which Edward told Bella that she should stay away from him because he was dangerous, and then promptly invited her on a road trip. She, without hesitating, accepted his invitation, to which he responded with a laugh, saying that she really should stay away from him, and then he walked away. This, in my mind, is a prime example of both characters’ stupidity: Edward for playing obnoxious circular games like that and Bella especially for saying yes to a guy after hearing such a warning. Again, what should have happened instead was a restraining order—or, if we’re going to stick to the fantasy realm like we should by this point, a silver stake. (Assuming that really works on Meyer’s vampires. After reading that her vampires sparkle in the sunlight, I wonder what other classic weaknesses to which they’re conveniently immune.)
As far as sexual activity goes, the book is clean, despite the fact that one time Edward spends the night at Bella’s—which, I might point out, is a No-No in any decent guy’s book, even if nothing particularly explicit occurs—and in Edward’s defense, he does resist the urge to bite Bella. Unfortunately, working against Edward’s favor is the fact that he always places himself in situations he knows will be tempting, particularly in the case of his vampiric appetite. He says he doesn’t want to hurt Bella, which I would totally believe if he truly made an effort to stay away from her. Instead, there’s that infamous scene in which he tells Bella that he wants to “try something,” followed shortly by their first kiss. Clearly, he does not know whether or not he can control himself but chooses to test that limit anyway. I don’t know, girls, but that’s another trait I wouldn’t want in a potential spouse.
Overall, I found this novel degrading to women. I would say that it suggests women fall for the hot guy, despite his particularly unattractive personality, but then I realize that is exactly what society tends to do. I have heard of many cases in which a girl hands over her heart to an attractive guy who compliments and protects her. She overlooks the fact that his protectiveness is actually possessiveness, that in the back of his mind, all he can think about is how much he wants to “bite” her. He pushes the limits, trying to see how far he can go before she tells him to back off—like when Edward kept trying to make Bella afraid of him.
It is worth mentioning that the woman is not the only one being used here. There is a character, Mike, who also shows an interest in Bella. (He is not the only one, but I do not feel like taking the time to address all of them.) He is friendly and nice to her, but she spurns his advances and instead turns to Edward, who tends to be rude to her. By the way, Edward’s personality does infuriate her. All she really finds appealing about him is his attractiveness. When she thinks about him, the only thing she’s really thinking about is how “beautiful” he is. So, while Bella is a possession to Edward, he is also one to her. Think about it. Boys tend to use girls for physical gratification, and we tend to use them for emotional gratification: to gain a sense of self-worth.
Walking hand-in-hand with a hot guy like Edward must mean she’s pretty special herself. He kisses her; that must mean he finds her attractive enough. He wants to hold her close; that must mean she’s desirable. He tells her she’s beautiful. He tells her he loves her. So what if he happens to be a bit rough and scary around the edges? He’ll change for her. In the meantime, Mike, who is already nice but not as good-looking as Edward, will just have to settle for the shallow Jessica. (Which, by the way, makes no sense to me—why is the “shallow” girl falling for Mike and not Edward, unless she’s not as shallow as Meyer would like us to believe?)
This novel is a reflection of our culture, our society’s view of what love is. It is very entertaining on the surface, but then I start to really think about what it is saying. I think about all the girls who rave about Edward, how they want a guy like him. I think of the girls as young as ten who have seen the movie and say, “Edward is handsome,” and that’s the only comment they have on it. I think about the girls who will be in my classroom someday, who will probably say something similar about “Mr. Perfect” from whatever story, if we’re lucky enough to have Twilight out of fashion by then.
My mocking laughter ceases. The feelings of anger and sadness replace it, and then I weep on the inside. I weep for the Bellas of this world, giving themselves over to the Edwards because they lack the self-respect to say no, to take out a restraining order if necessary. I weep for the Edwards, who only have girls interested in them because of their looks—otherwise, they would be getting that restraining order. I weep for the Mikes, who aren’t given the chance they deserve. And I weep for the future of literature.
This aspect of society should not be encouraged; it should be questioned. That is why I hate Twilight.
