So I read Twilight. Well, three-and-a-half books of it.
I read it despite suspecting I would have a strong aversion to it because, as you may have noticed, one of the areas I’m continually thinking about is the presence and representation of women in imaginative work. And because I’ve been sort of working up to a hypothesis about male/female aesthetics in that particular sphere, I’m sort of stuck with, on occasion, reading and/or watching stuff I wouldn’t ordinarily touch.
(I would also be lying if I didn’t admit that my penchant for contrarianism led me to rebel against the growing consensus that These Books Are The Antichrist and I wanted support for my nagging desire to trip the haters up, so to speak.)
Sady Doyle of Tiger Beatdown wrote about the disproportionality of the negative reaction to Twilight recently in The American Prospect, and I don’t want to rehash what she said there. She is utterly correct to say that female-oriented fantasies like these are treated with a derision that one doesn’t see with respect to male-oriented fantasies. (When was the last time one heard the culture agonize about whether G.I. Joe was sending young men the right message?) What I want to do instead is talk about the books themselves, and what’s redeemable about them. I want to talk about the things that are, frankly, a little surprising about them.Before I read these books I, like most people I know, assumed they were some kind of neutered Mormon version of vampires, which would account for the fact that, as I’d also heard, the contained no sex whatsoever. But then someone sent me this link, in which a somewhat asshole of a writer declares that the last book, Breaking Dawn, ought to be filmed by Cronenberg, due in part to the emergency C-section Edward gives Bella with his teeth. (Yeah, really.) And I thought to myself: hold the phone. There’s something else going on here. Not something I necessarily aesthetically like either, but this isn’t just Christian teen lit with some vampires in it.
Don’t despair. I still think many criticisms of the books are quite valid. The writing is terrible (someone is described as having an “invisible laugh,” for example – if your laugh is visible, please call 911 immediately); the sparkly-vampire stuff is pretty boring and annoying; and remarkably little actually happens in these books. (Even large plot developments are often shunted offstage because they are “too dangerous” for Bella.) Bella’s so-called klutziness wears pretty thin after the first couple of broken bones. Edward, her suitor, has the kind 0f vapid mooniness native to NYU film students. In general, the treatment of the Quileute (the Native American/werewolf tribe to which her friend Jacob belongs) smacks of racism and essentialism. There are some yucky erotic overtones attributed to domestic violence. The first book is thin on redeeming factors.
And yet… and yet. Even when I was in high Twilight-avoidance mode I wondered if I could possibly be getting the whole story on the thing, because there were any number of young women who were reading it who did not, to me, appear to be the usual teenybopper sort. And the more of it I read, the more I could see what it was they related to in it. There were three things in particular that caught my eye:
- Jacob’s entire function in the series is to remind Bella that she shouldn’t just lose herself in a guy. While I get the impression from the film marketing that the love triangle aspect is emphasized in the movies, in the books there is very little question at any point as to whether Bella will end up with Edward. Why is there so little doubt? Because Bella identifies Jacob as her friend, and not a potential lover.* She is so deep into Edward she can’t see the forest for that one damn melancholy tree in the first book, and it is infuriating. But when Jacob comes into play in New Moon (he appears only briefly in the first book), he becomes the avatar (apologies) for everything in Bella’s life that isn’t Edward. (Werewolves like Jacob instinctually despise vampires, which adds another wrench into the mix.) And he pushes her to hold onto the rest of her life, to not define herself exclusively as Edward’s beloved. Having been friends myself with more than a few women I’ve lost to dudes, and who later tried to reconnect with the complaint that they had gotten too wrapped up in one person, I can’t help but be sympathetic to a series of books aimed at young women which emphasize the importance of not losing yourself in your drama-filled romance, of forcing yourself to have a life distinct from – and in this case, rather antagonistic to – your relationship.
- The no-pre-marital sex is Edward’s idea, not Bella’s, and in fact her reluctance to marry is palpable. I had sort of wondered, having studied Dracula and vampire mythology in college, how one could possibly write a non-sexual, pro-marriage vampire romance in an age which, while still sexually restrictive, would have seemed like unbridled freedom to Mina Harker. It just struck me that, assuming the audience isn’t from the Purity Ball set and are, themselves, largely sexually active, the whole sexual tension of the vampire narrative – the need to resist succumbing to desire – is empty. It turns out, in fact, that Bella herself isn’t the one who declares desire to be sacred – it’s Edward. (Meyer explains this away by claiming that it’s a relic of his old-fashioned upbringing at the turn of the century, which is a bit too pat – but then this isn’t great storytelling in any event.) Bella, in fact, resists getting married because she thinks she’s too young for it, and as the child of divorced parents, hasn’t much faith in the institution. She only agrees, in the end, because she wants to become a vampire, and Edward only agrees to that on condition of getting married. Bella, in fact, seems rather nonplussed by the wedding ritual. For her, the high point is the honeymoon – which is fraught with its own problems given that Edward bruises her when they have sex and she brushes it off as no big deal. (To Meyer’s credit, Edward is less sanguine about that.) But it is still a much more affirming portrait of female desire than I expected.
- This is the only book aimed at teenagers I can remember reading in which an unwanted sexual advance is unequivocally termed “assault.” At one point, Jacob, in an attempt to convince Bella that she really is in love with him, forcibly kisses her. Not only does she not do the traditional romance thing of eventually succumbing to it – you know, that half-hearted thump on the back so common in Hollywood movies followed by limp ecstasy – she herself calls it “assault.” It’s sad that we live in a world where this is a very big thing to hear come out of a teenage girl’s mouth in reference to an unwanted kiss, but it is, and Bella firmly makes Jacob understand how wrong he was.
I point these out to you not to make an argument that Twilight is, can or should be a feminist classic, even in a gateway drug kind of way, but to say that sometimes you can find narratives of female agency in the strangest places, and also to reassure you if you have friends or family reading these books that they are not wholly retrogressive. Even in bad art there are possibilities, one supposes, and I just think it’s important to point this out. The girls reading Intercourse in high school don’t need us to help them own themselves. But the girls reading Twilight just might, and perhaps it’s valuable to emphasize the way in which the books aren’t totally unrescuable from the bounds of misogyny.
* It’s true that at some point Bella decides she loves Jacob too, but this is also after she has decided there’s no turning back with Edward. But up until then she’s in full, “He’s just like a brother to me,” mode.
I mean…I always assumed there must be something redeeming in them. My ex-roommate (a woman of color who has several bell hooks books on her bookshelf) loves them as a guilty pleasure and has seen both movies the day they came out. She finds them ridiculous but still somehow compelling. Did you experience this at all?
For starters, I think you’re dead on about your three points.
I call bullshit, btw, on all the pearl-clutching about these series, because the whole OMG, don’t let the girls read those books with their bad, bad messages! is paternalist and insulting whether you’re applying it to Twilight or Mary Wollstonecraft.
To add another point to your list–if I may–it’s also worth noting that unlike the usual passive heroines, Bella becomes a blatantly heroic, messianic figure because
***SPOILER ALERT***
at the end of Breaking Dawn it’s Bella and her shielding powers–not the brute force of the vampires or Jacob’s wolfpack–that save the Cullens from the Volturi. In fact, the Volturi have sensed this about her from the very start, and feared her. Bella’s hardly just the human plaything of the sexxxy icy vampire boy–she’s predestined to be their savior.
Becky I agree about all the pearl clutching being insulting and condescending. I read some fucked up, drugstore paperback romance, shit as a pre-teen.
@bluebears: I read VC Andrews when I was in 6th and 7th grade. That was some twisted-ass shit. It was like 1000% times more objectionable than Stephenie Meyers.
And Sadie Doyle’s right that no one ever says of their teenage sons “OMG, I can’t let him read THAT.” Although this is likely because their son has already abandoned reading to watch double-penetration porn and play Grand Theft Auto on the PC they bought him.
ha! I LOVED VC Andrews.
Seriously though my main issue/annoyance with the Twilight readership is all the adult women who appear to love it. Who are they? and why?
I admittedly have only read the first book of the Twilight series, but my problem with it is largely personal: Edward Cullen creeps the hell out of me. Like, a lot. He’s a paler, sparklier ex-boyfriend from a Lifetime movie starring Tori Spelling of Tiffani-Amber Thiessen, and I can’t enjoy the rest of the books, because he is just creeping me out way too much.
But I’m also in my late twenties, and when I was a teenager, I was surreptiously reading Wuthering Heights and early 80s Beatrice Small novels and Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty erotica, and I turned out okay, really. I think we underestimate the ability of girls to discern between what happens in stories and what’s acceptable in reality.
Yeah, seeing all those middle-aged moms swooning over Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner creeps me out. I don’t really get that either, unless it’s just some nostalgic effort to recapture the heady fervor of their teenage days. Even then…ick. Grow up, ladies.
I think we underestimate the ability of girls to discern between what happens in stories and what’s acceptable in reality.
Exactly, Ratinski. Whenver I hear parents hand-wringing about this kind of thing I always want to say “you must think your kid is awful dumb.”
Something sad to share. I may not understand why women love this book (I myself thought it was just fun fluff to read) but my seventeen year old baby sis said she loved it because, “I already KNOW shit won’t work out like this. That’s why it fiction, not just the vampire parts.”
Is it just me or is this not slightly frightening?
Ratinski, I’m impressed, though, because at some point in New Moon Bella too realizes Edward is being stalky and possessive, and chastises him for it, and he reforms somewhat.
In the first book it’s all creep all the time, though.
You know, I’m kind of glad to know that there’s something redeeming about these books- since both my 20 something sister and my 16 yr old nieces love the series. I’ve refused to read them, sheerly to be obstinate. And to not subject myself to any more bad writing than I have to endure (as a Freshman Comp instructor)as it is.
Although the DV/stalker-ific parts horrify me, the fact that Bella calls Jacob’s unwanted kiss ‘assault’ is impressive. All of these issues could very easily be talking points with the nieces…if only I could get over the bad writing!
I’m a fan of Twilight but with the hesitations and realizations of all its flaws and ridiculousness.
I heartily agree with your second point and many feminists don’t give it the credit it deserves. Bella was sexually frustrated by Edward’s reluctance to have sex and equally frustrated with the idea of marriage, both things I can absolutely sympathize with. Bella WANTS sex and doesn’t think she needs to be married to have it. And as for the complaint of Edward refusing sex because Bella is “fragile” and he doesn’t want to hurt her, well, he IS a vampire who craves blood. To me, it just seems like he is trying to control his urges that might potentially harm someone he cares about, rather than pushing the idea that women are things to be taken care of.
I enjoyed these books for the entertaining junk that they are, but I think they’re absolutely horrible for teen girls and I don’t believe there’s anything non-feminist in asserting that (while at the same time fighting back against the sexist idea that if girls like something it must be bad). Basically, if the main love relationship is emotionally abusive and controlling throughout, FAIL. As for the specific post points:
1. What happens after that Jacob ‘assault’ is…she decides that Jacob was right and she actually kind of loves him after all. That’s exactly the pro-rape narrative in the rest of the culture at large. I also think he fails in convincing her that there’s any worth to her life outside of her relationship with Edward, and she simply transfers her obsession with male approval to him.
2. The ‘woman wants sex and man wants to wait’ thing is kind of cool. But it also re-inscribes the ‘women are emotional and men are rational’ trope.
3.Bella saves everyone with her Magical Maternal Powers, powers specific to what Stephanie Meyer thinks women’s role should be. Bella’s role as protectrix is crystallized because she has become a mother at 18 after deciding that she would literally rather die than have an abortion.
In short, I don’t think there are any empowering messages here that aren’t simultaneously misogynist. Meyer pretty much hates women. Which is a sad thing for someone who is a hero to millions of girls.
And in case it wasn’t clear from my rant, I don’t agree that idea that Edward ‘reforms somewhat’ later in the series. He controls the access to sex the whole time regardless of Bella’s needs or feelings, which is in itself a form of abuse. /rant
For the much more amusing LOLcat version of New Moon, may I suggest: http://www.popsuede.com/2009/12/twilight-saga-new-moon-review.html
Fat Louie, no one said anything about non-feminist. In fact, I’m not really sure it’s possible to assert that certain narratives are “feminist” or not without acknowledging certain internal dissonances. (This is why, for example, entire websites like this one are dedicated to people articulating what they find commensurate with feminist values and what they don’t; it’s not something one can simply declare without qualifications.) Twilight is a cultural artifact, not a rulebook, and even in things I think of as “positive” messages for young women can turn underminery – i.e. “don’t feel pressured into having sex” can often turn into “sex is sacred and beautiful, honey.” Life is complicated.
But:
1. The conversion, such as it is, of Jacob comes well after the assault and is not, to my recollection, dependent on it at all. It’s unconvincing, the conversion, anyway, particularly because it happens at a point where Bella is not going to leave Edward anyway, and so it’s hard to know what you could mean by “transferring her need for male approval.”
2. I think the re-inscription of the “women are emotional” trope is something you’d have trouble finding textual support for. I agree it’s a fine line to tread, but I actually did not see Bella being portrayed as a sexual aggressor in any way other than a positive one.
3. Well… okay. She doesn’t pick the abortion. I don’t know that I would say she has to from a feminist standpoint here anyway, mostly because I don’t think any woman has to, but also because she is with a stable partner and has cash, so there’s little irresponsibility in it. Also it happens in such an utterly bewildering way that I think it holds narrative water.
As for the mother stuff… yeah, I don’t love that either, but I don’t really see how that relates to anything I’ve said here.
@vmt:
True. Whatever else you can say about them, the writing is twenty kinds of terrible. Which, troubling themes aside, is really why I only read the first one- why subject myself to three more books of that?
Fat Louie, I don’t agree that withholding sex for whatever personal reason on either partner’s part is “a form of abuse.” What would that mean for young women and girls who don’t want to have sex with someone themselves, regardless of the boy’s “needs and desires”?
@FatLouie: Saying Meyers hates women is an extreme and ridiculous statement. The books may be silly, they may even contain ideas you don’t like. But you have no rational basis for personally smearing the author that way.
I also really take issue with your saying that depicting a woman choosing NOT to abort a wanted–if unexpected–pregnancy is somehow misogynist. Wanting to have a baby is not an anti-feminist act, even if carrying it endangers one’s life. I know more than one woman who has chosen to risk her life and health because she wanted to have a child. If we don’t judge women for choosing NOT to become mothers, we similarly should not judge them when they do.
Hermeneutics of charity, anyone? Let me clarify a few points:
I do believe that Stephanie Meyer’s writing indicates a deep-seated contempt for women and a need to punish them in various ways, and that’s an expression of hatred. Just because it’s a textual reading that I don’t have the space to go into line-by-line here doesn’t make it a ‘smear,’ any more than any other reading of a text. I expressed the opinion strongly and that was clearly jarring, but that has nothing to do with whether it can be backed up with evidence (which it most certainly can).
Bella’s ‘new understanding’ that she loves Jacob comes in the middle of a scene in book three which he is yet again kissing her against her will. That is a typical rape fantasy.
OF COURSE in a healthy relationship one partner may choose not to engage in sex. Bella has to *plead* with Edward to have sex with her *on their honeymoon.* His constantly doing what he decides is right for her rather than actually talking to her about her feelings is an expression of the fact that their relationship is abusive. She is never allowed to be an equal party to decision-making.
OF COURSE women may choose to carry children to term at the risk of their own lives. But Bella’s decision to sacrifice her own life to a child doesn’t stem from anything inherent in her character as written. It’s a pure expression of Meyer’s anti-abortion position.
OF COURSE there is no one correct way to be a feminist. I was trying to provide a counter-argument to what I saw as the dominant position of the thread, which was that we shouldn’t be worried about young girls being exposed to Twilight, that it’s patronizing and sexist to be concerned. I think it’s just as valid to be quite concerned. Both positions are feminist. I spoke strongly. I have thought a lot about these books. I’ve read them more than once. And that’s what I’ve concluded.
Best,
-FL
As a mercifully short, final note let me add my sincere apologies that I gave the impression that anyone’s readings of these books were any less ‘feminist’ or ‘correct’ than my own. I respect the Harpies and commenters here immensely, and diversity of opinion must result from having so many smart people in the same space.
Honestly, my biggest criticism of the books was always that to me they just seemed like poor stories badly written.
There are certainly bits to redeem in them, though, and I think you’ve helped crystallise for me why I don’t like it when people just go on and on about how it’s a terrible and shitty thing to let any woman read these books because they might Get The Wrong Impression, because it is pearl-clutching bullshit.
There is, I think, a suprising amount to discuss about the Twilight series, and it needs discussing because it’s so damn popular. The biggest positive point as far as I can see is the second one, that Bella has sexual desire and this is not presented as a bad thing. It is a shame that Edward uses her desire for sex to manipulate her emotionally, but that’s kinda what he does with everything. He’s a bit of an asshole. He has redeeming features- he’s extremely controlled physically, and massively aware of his capability to harm Bella, which I think is a rare quality in guys; he is aware that he is a violent creature, and he has a lot of self-control to help him deal with that. The unhealthy bit is that his aura of control is extended to his relationship with Bella. He needs the relationship to continue at his terms, on his ground, at the speed he decides, to avoid damaging Bella physically. In doing so he puts her through the emotional wringer. If the series had a part where she called him on this? Then I’d actually count them as a guilty pleasure.
But, as I said, that’s a problem with the story, of which there are legions, and just because some gold is surrounded by crap it doesn’t stop it being gold. Meyer may not be sex-positive, but Bella certainly is.
Ehh…I can see being concerned as a valid reaction to the books’ massive popularity. After all, they’re not marketed to women, they’re marketed to girls. TwiMoms aside, the vast majority of Twilight’s fanbase is young girls. I work in a bookstore part-time, so I see all the swooning that goes on over these books and I’ve seen girls that are probably a few years away from puberty come in and get all excited over Robert Pattinson and Tyler Whatsis name.
I can see some validity in the points made above, but the Jacob kissing thing really surprises me. I honestly don’t remember Meyer treating that incident seriously or referring to it as “assault”, but granted, it has been a long time since I read the books. However, I do remember Bella realizing that she’s madly in love with Jacob during the other unwanted kiss. He basically tells her “I’m going to go commit suicide unless you make out with me,” and she’s all “My God, I love Jacob also”, and I was going “You have GOT to be kidding me.”
Being concerned over the reading choices of grown women is one thing, but 11-year-old girls reading that crap? That does worry me.
Heh, April, I feel almost exactly the opposite. Children reading something horrifically bad doesn’t worry me as much as adults reading it and claiming that this is a “fantasy” that is untouchable for x, y or z reasons. I guess this is because I didn’t have parents who policed my reading at all as a young lady, and I turned out okay. I still kind of think that one book leads to another. I do sort of subscribe to the argument that literacy of any sort is useful – not to say that it will lead to more for anyone, but to say that acquiring a love of the mere process of reading does have intrinsic value to me, whatever the target. But adults reading Twilight, and Twilight-like things exclusively… eh, I feel like we’ve lost them already, you know?
I need to go back and reread that part where Bella realizes she “loves” Jacob, obvs. I don’t remember it quite the same way, but then I didn’t take notes on that part. I just thought her “love” for Jacob was so bizarrely sketched that my eyes kinda glazed over anyway. But AprilLayne, Bella is the one who calls it assault and treats it seriously. What Meyer thinks… eh. Not sure. But it’s still a hell of a lot better than anything Catherine says to Heathcliff, IIRC.
Fat Louie, the non-abortion not fitting with Bella’s character, I guess I gloss over that as an example of Meyer’s poor technique, and I’m not sure that, in context, I could say it comes across as out of a commitment to human life. It comes across as a decision made in shock, and the switch to Jacob’s perspective for the duration of the pregnancy rather amplifies the impression that Bella is being unnecessarily and impractically obstinate about it. YMMV.
@AprilLayne: I have to agree with Pilgrim Soul–if kids want to read somehthing horrifically bad, well…what’s the alternative? That girls should be steered only to “good” books? And if so, who decides what’s “good” for the minds of our young women? You? Booksellers? The church? The state?
I read mountains of poorly written romance novels and popular writers from VC Andrews to Stephen King–most of which are far more gory, violent, sexually explicit and full of disturbing messages than anything Stephenie Meyers has ever written. And I was able to distinguish between good and bad just fine, thanks. I happened to like reading some laughably bad books, that’s all.
The notion that a couple of popular novels somehow represent a danger to a healthy young girls’ future thought and development is ridiculous and insults their intelligence.
Well, I wasn’t suggesting that we police girl’s reading habits. I was mainly just arguing that it’s ok to be concerned by what they’re reading. I do think that young girls reading habits at an impressionable age can influence their perspective on life.
A personal bit: I was quite the reader as a child. I read tons of fantasy, kidlit classics like “Harriet the Spy” and others, and….the Sweet Valley twins books (my dirty little secret). It pains me now to admit this, but I was heavily drawn into those books and would feel bad about the fact that my life wasn’t as perfect as the Wakefield twins, that my parents were divorced, we had little money, and that boys didn’t flock to me like bees to honey. I can actually remember bawling about that a few times. (This is pretty embarrassing to admit now.)
I don’t know if it means that I was “unhealthy” or maybe just dumb as a post (probably the latter), but I do think that those ridiculous books influenced how I perceived male/female relationships. I considered myself ugly in my early teen years, and I most certainly did not have gorgeous guys swooning all over me like Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield, and it made me feel very worthless at times. Now I’m not solely blaming my adolescent self-esteem issues on the Sweet Valley books, but I do wish I could travel back in time and smack my 13-year-old self in the head and be like, “For God’s sake, those books are idiotic and have no bearing in reality whatsoever.” In fact, sometimes I wonder if my extreme cynicism when it comes to romantic love stems from the major contrast between love as I imagined it to be at that age and the disappointing reality I’ve discovered as I’ve grown older. Not that my grown, rational self believes in that silly stuff, but it may be a sort of subconcious, irrational reaction. I expect one thing, I get another, and I become extremely embittered and angry about the whole thing. Anyhow, that’s a bit of a digression.
Basically, I’m sure most young Twilight readers will be fine when it’s all said and done, but I also believe they are getting their first vicarious taste of love and sexuality through these and similar books, and I wonder how it will influence them later in life.
@April: I think the sugar-coated stuff like Sweet Valley High has more potential to throw teen girls off-kilter for just the reason you describe. I’m sure plenty of girls had the same experience you did. I personally gravitated away from those books because they really didn’t represent a life I knew first-hand, nor did they match my interior/fantasy life, which was fairly dark and sexually charged, as it is for most teenagers.
I think that’s why the current crop of YA books for this generation of teenagers tends to be darker and more disturbing. The teen years tend to be angsty and angry and sexually fraught, which makes girls much more receptive to something like Twilight , or even even VC Andrews.
Anyway, I’d rather have girls reading Stephenie Meyer than, say, Cecily von Ziegesar and the Gossip Girl series. I think their materialistic, vapid plotlines are stupider and crasser than sparkle vampires and werewolves. To me, those books are today’s Sweet Valley High .
Interesting commentary, who knew Twilight could stir up such a debate. I read all 4 books recently, partly though a colleague at work who swears by them and partly because my 12 year old was hooked and claimed them to be brilliant. I was curious and found that even though they are badly written and often dull and silly in parts, they also were compelling and I knew I couldn’t leave the series unfinished.
A curious thing really, on the one hand I’m saying Meyer is a terrible writer but on the other hand, she must be good enough to have enjoyed the success she’s enjoying.
Anyway, I just asked my daughter why she enjoyed the books so much and her answer was: the action. She found the silly Bella bits stupid and was more addicted to the vampire fights and adventures than anything else and this seems to be true of most of her friends.
Is it possible that these books are being over-analysed? I’m not sure that teenagers have garnered the same meanings from parts of these books that I have just read here. I don’t even think I interpreted the books in that way. In fact, I mostly enjoyed the action passages as well and really didn’t focus on the other bits too hard because I didn’t rate the writing as worthy of hard thought.
These books to me are a very light escape if you’re an adult reader, and a pure adventure escape if you are a teen. Yes, the fourth book is a very sharp twist away from the innocence that is common in the first 2-3 books but there is also more action in that last book as well which I suspect eventually overshadows the Bella/Edward sex scenes by the end of the book.
There are many things that annoy me about these books, Bella agreeing to marry when her heart wasn’t in it, Edward making a deal to get her to marry him, and Jacob using emotional guilt trips to try to change Bella’s mind are a few examples but I agree with another commentator here, I just put those things down largely due to a shallow writing style.
@Tiki:
Is it possible that these books are being over-analysed?
Yes, definitely.
on the one hand I’m saying Meyer is a terrible writer but on the other hand, she must be good enough to have enjoyed the success she’s enjoying.
I think this is true of the majority of highly successful novelists, whether you’re talking Barbara Cartland or John Grisham. The whole notion that a writer must be a brilliant literary stylist to be “good” or to deserve their success is a fundamentally snobby and elitist one. If they tell a story that people want to hear, and that many people enjoy, they are good enough to deserve their success.
…there is also more action in that last book as well which I suspect eventually overshadows the Bella/Edward sex scenes by the end of the book.
The sex scenes are basically non-existent. The reader never actually gets any descriptions or depictions of the physical act itself–all the action takes place off-stage. All the eroticism is implied. Frankly, I felt a bit cheated, after plowing through a few thousand pages of build-up.
Tiki, sure, things are being overanalyzed, although over-analysis is my specialty. I don’t think it’s possible to formulate one definitive account of how teenage girls react to these books generally, in any event. My point here was more to say, if you have children/friends reading these and you’re concerned, there are themes/plot elements in them that you can try to emphasize for them.
Although, and this is not to cast aversion on your daughter, I can’t quite imagine telling my mom I was into the sex scenes in any novel, let alone this one.
Though I find Twilight endlessly fascinating, I have nothing to add except that when I read the first line of the post, I did laugh.
I am a 16 year old girl who has read the twilight series through 3 times and seen both movies on opening day (new moon at the midnight screening to top it off) but before you scoff and laugh and move on to reading the next comment, please let me offer you the perspective of a teenage twilight lover and share my story with you.
First of all I would like to clear up that I do not usually read books such as this, as I am much more into adult fiction (thrillers, mysteries etc.)but I picked up this book after one of my best friends who hasnt finished a book since primary school read the whole series in a week. I figured it must be at least okay for her to read the whole series, so I gave it a shot and despite the horrible writing which, as a passionate Extension English student, deeply disturbed me when contrasted with the success of the book, I found myself really enjoying it.
I did not see this story of vampire love with its knight-in-shining-vampire-skin hero as a realistic relationship, but I marvelled in the escape it provided from the real world, and after reading the books for a second and then a third time, my eyes were opened more to the story and all its implications and I really started to see Edward for the creepy stalker who watches a stranger through her bedroom window that he is, but despite this i still really enjoyed the books.
april said
“I can see some validity in the points made above, but the Jacob kissing thing really surprises me. I honestly don’t remember Meyer treating that incident seriously or referring to it as “assault”, but granted, it has been a long time since I read the books. However, I do remember Bella realizing that she’s madly in love with Jacob during the other unwanted kiss. He basically tells her “I’m going to go commit suicide unless you make out with me,” and she’s all “My God, I love Jacob also”, and I was going “You have GOT to be kidding me.”
and i totally agree with this, but despite that fact, i am still drawn in.
When my boyfriend found out that I like the books, however, he wasn’t too pleased. Two of his best mates were dumped by their girlfriends because they just aren’t enough like Edward Cullen, and he was worried that I might, as these girls did, use Edward’s “perfection” as a scale to measure my boyfriends up against.
this sounds horrible but I laughed uncontrollably for what seemed like an hour. I just couldn’t believe that someone would take a fictional character and fictional relationship so seriously.
The truth of the matter is that some girls really shouldn’t read these books because they do make them delusional, but any girl with half a head should know that these books are FICTION. They are a made up story, written to offer an escape from reality, as are all fiction books. I, and many of my friends who have read Twilight, do not take these books literally, and know how stupid and badly written they are, but nevertheless, enjoy them and i actually think that if a girl has her head in the right space they can, like my friends and I, take these books as an example of what a relationship shouldn’t be like. These books could be perfect for teaching young girls about unhealthy relationships. I also think that there is no way that anyone could stop teenage girls from reading a book if they wanted to read it, and so therefore, they must be trusted to make the right choices for themselves. It may help though, if parents and children are educated about the content of the books they read, although to do this for every book, it would take a lot of time and effort.
I am a 16 year old girl who has read the twilight series through 3 times and seen both movies on opening day (new moon at the midnight screening to top it off) but before you scoff and laugh and move on to reading the next comment, please let me offer you the perspective of a teenage twilight lover and share my story with you.
First of all I would like to clear up that I do not usually read books such as this, as I am much more into adult fiction (thrillers, mysteries etc.)but I picked up this book after one of my best friends who hasnt finished a book since primary school read the whole series in a week. I figured it must be at least okay for her to read the whole series, so I gave it a shot and despite the horrible writing which, as a passionate Extension English student, deeply disturbed me when contrasted with the success of the book, I found myself really enjoying it.
I did not see this story of vampire love with its knight-in-shining-vampire-skin hero as a realistic relationship, but I marvelled in the escape it provided from the real world, and after reading the books for a second and then a third time, my eyes were opened more to the story and all its implications and I really started to see Edward for the creepy stalker who watches a stranger through her bedroom window that he is, but despite this i still really enjoyed the books.
april said
I can see some validity in the points made above, but the Jacob kissing thing really surprises me. I honestly don’t remember Meyer treating that incident seriously or referring to it as “assault”, but granted, it has been a long time since I read the books. However, I do remember Bella realizing that she’s madly in love with Jacob during the other unwanted kiss. He basically tells her “I’m going to go commit suicide unless you make out with me,” and she’s all “My God, I love Jacob also”, and I was going “You have GOT to be kidding me.”
and i totally agree with this, but despite that fact, i am still drawn in.
When my boyfriend found out that I like the books, however, he wasn’t too pleased. Two of his best mates were dumped by their girlfriends because they just aren’t enough like Edward Cullen, and he was worried that I might, as these girls did, use Edward’s “perfection” as a scale to measure my boyfriends up against.
this sounds horrible but I laughed uncontrollably for what seemed like an hour. I just couldn’t believe that someone would take a fictional character and fictional relationship so seriously.
The truth of the matter is that some girls really shouldn’t read these books because they do make them delusional, but any girl with half a head should know that these books are FICTION. They are a made up story, written to offer an escape from reality, as are all fiction books. I, and many of my friends who have read Twilight, do not take these books literally, and know how stupid and badly written they are, but nevertheless, enjoy them and i actually think that if a girl has her head in the right space they can, like my friends and I, take these books as an example of what a relationship shouldn’t be like. These books could be perfect for teaching young girls about unhealthy relationships. I also think that there is no way that anyone could stop teenage girls from reading a book if they wanted to read it, and so therefore, they must be trusted to make the right choices for themselves. It may help though, if parents and children are educated about the content of the books they read, although to do this for every book, it would take a lot of time and effort.
@Sunny: Definitely not going to scoff at your comment–it’s thoughtful and totally on point! Thanks for sharing.
And for the record, I completely agree with you about the purpose of escapist fiction and the idea that the vast majority of teenage girls are perfectly capable of recognizing it for what it is.
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