Artimaeus

Twilight is popular. We all know this, and most of us resent this. For me, the popularity of twilight has come to fascinate me in a way I doubt is entirely healthy. And looking through the site, I have not seen an article explaining why Twilight is so bloody popular, why girls and their mothers are buying hardcover what is essentially pulp romance. Well, here’s that article.

Now, understanding Twilight‘s appeal is a difficult task for me. This is because 1) I have yet to read the books all the way through, and 2) I am a 17-year-old boy. I hope you can appreciate why it’s hard for a teenage boy to explain why teenage girls like a book that he hasn’t read. Fortunately, this teenage boy happens to have done a fair amount of research on the subject, reading articles, reviews, editorials, and blogs. He also has some (admittedly secondhand) knowledge of teenage girls. So, with my qualifications laid bare, let us begin.

Twilight is the story of Bella Swan, a plain, clumsy, teenage girl, famous for her utterly unremarkable personalty. However the instant she moves to a small town, she becomes the center of attention in her new high school. She also catches the eye of the beautiful, mysterious, and troubled Edward Cullen. I don’t want to give too much away, but Edward turns out to be a vampire. The monster and the maiden court each other for a while (in a tortured, angst-filled drama of teenage restraint), before some evil vampires show up and try to eat Bella. The good vamps and bad vamps duke it out, the good guys win, and Bella is taken to the prom by her vampire lover. That is the plot.

Now, Twilight would not work if the reader could not sympathize with the female lead and put themselves in her place. This is why Bella was given precious little personality, and almost no physical description beyond the generic “plain-looking”. But there are also certain aspects of Bella’s situation which make her particularly relatable to teenage girls.

Let us start with with Bella’s move from Phoenix to Forks. Many of us critics have pointed out an inconsistency in Bella’s character. How is it that a girl, who is supposedly “plain-looking” and boys always ignored, has five guys courting her the second she moves to a new city? Most chalk this up as bad character design. And it is. Bella is a Sue. This simply isn’t how the real world works. But in fact, Bella’s situation is one which many young girls face at some point, not because they moved into a new city, but because, you know, they grow breasts. Bella’s move from the sunny, bright, cheerful city of Phoenix to the dark, uncertain, overcast city of Forks is a metaphor for, well, puberty.

Whether this was intentional or accidental I don’t know. But it’s clear that young, highly vicarious tweens can sympathize with a girl who suddenly, and through no action of her own, becomes the center of attention among boys who used to ignore her. I knew a girl once who was remarkably well endowed, (by that I mean, she had C or D cups as a high school freshmen) and a lot of boys who wanted her- believe me, I was one of them. Yet she tended to avoid male friends, and has not to my knowledge ever had a boyfriend. She also happens to be one of the most enthusiastic Edward Cullen fangirls I have ever seen. She is precisely the type who Bella and Edward are meant to appeal to: the girl who sees a lot of boys perusing her for very shallow reasons. On one hand, she doesn’t believe that she’s worth of all the attention. On the other hand, she thinks she’s above the superficial bastards.

Then enter Edward, the other pillar of Twilight‘s success. The truly ironic thing about Edward is that his reason for liking Bella is no less shallow. Her blood smells tasty. The difference? It’s that he doesn’t indulge his superficial feelings. In fact, he tries to run away from her. Because he could hurt her. Because he cares about her more than he cares about himself. Because he’s in love. Cue the romantic music.

Now, of course, if this wasn’t fiction, the nice boy who respects Bella enough to not act on his shallow feelings, (at what appears to be a great cost to himself; cue the angsty overtones) would be ignored by the girl. I mean, he’s avoiding her, and generally acting like an antisocial jerk, right?

But this is fiction. And lucky Eddy happens to possess a demonic amount of good, ol’ fashion sex appeal. Never mind the double standard (a girl may obsess over the boy’s physical qualities all she wants, but it the boy does the same, he’s a shallow bastard). Every time the guy is mentioned, Meyer descends into icky, longwinded, adjective-heavy prose about how perfect and/or gorgeous and/or beautiful and/or sculpted and/or smoldering he is.

Every. Single. F***ing. Time.

The same principal applies in both film and literature: sex sells. In a movie, all you need do is cast Brad Pitt or Johnny Depp (or, apparently, Robert Pattinson) as the male lead, and at least half of the female audience will love the character, regardless of… well, anything. For the male equivalent, look no further than Angelina Jolie. My point is that people like to watch/read (fantasize) about pretty people. And Edward is pretty. Reeeealy pretty. You just wouldn’t believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly pretty he is…

Ad Creamium.

And then there’s the abstinence message. The message that everyone is talking about. One can understand why mothers are gushing over it, but what about their daughters?

Twilight, like most vampire novels, presents vampirism (and by analogy, sex) as an overpowering, forbidden temptation, that will destroy Bella if Edward loses control. She would be killed and turned into a “unholy abomination” (and by analogy, would suffer severe emotional trauma, catch six venereal diseases, get pregnant, and be universally considered a slut).

Why would such a horrendously over the top depiction be appealing to young people?

Well because, like most exaggerations, there is a nugget of truth to this. We’ve already established that Bella represents the barely pubescent girl. And the fact is that developing teenagers are uncertain about their sexuality. It’s a new, unexplored territory, and that’s frightening to many. Enter Captain Obvious. But Bella’s insecurity, if over the top, is very easy for teens to identify with. “Is he taking advantage of me?” wonders the innocent little girl. “Does he really care about me, or is he just after sex?” Well in the case of the 108-year-old virgin, do you even have to ask? To quote a fan,

“Sex is possible, and a forbidden thrill to contemplate, but it’s not a danger: you’re safe with Edward, because he loves you just that much, and he’s never going to pressure you because he wants to protect you from himself.”²

The appeal of Edward’s stubborn abstinence is amplified by the fact that Bella is, for lack of a better description, a spineless doormat. I mean, look at her. She faints when she kisses him, throws herself off of a cliff just to hear his voice, and anything resembling a backbone just seems to melt away in the face of his smoldering golden gaze. Never before in the history of womankind has anyone so openly courted abuse. And Edward, with is super strength, mind reading powers, and highly symbolic bloodlust, is more than capable of taking full advantage of her.

But he doesn’t. That is why Edward is so often lauded as the ideal man. Yes, he’s controlling, and stalking, and overprotective, but it’s all seen as selfless heroics so long as he refuses to indulge his carnal desire.

In this sense, Edward’s appeal is not his danger, but his safety. His strength is the ability to overcome both Bella’s desire and his own. The strange thing is that, the more unbalanced the relationship becomes, the more noble Edward appears. The more helpless and abuse-able Bella makes herself, the more remarkable it seems when she isn’t abused. The harder Edward has to fight himself, the more devoted he appears, and the more the fangirls swoon.

This leads directly into the next Edward appeal: “Girls want bad boys”. You know how it works. The Bad Boy antihero is strong enough to protect our damsel, but vulnerable enough to be redeemed. Edward fits this to a T: he’s a depressed, brooding jerk who can stop a car with his bare hands. If only a kind-hearted, fetchingly vulnerable, endearingly clumsy sweetheart was there to nurture his noble side with her unconditional love.

This idea even transcends literature. I remember seeing the sparkles in the eyes a friend of mine when her boyfriend gave up smoking (not cigarettes) for her. She was the singular exception to the guy’s nature; he was willing to change himself just for her. Because she was that special.

Of course, most intelligent girls realize that, in real life, one’s nature isn’t changed so easily. The Power of Love ™ wears off after a while, and more often than not, the reformed bad boy will revert to his old self, leaving the girl in an unfortunate (and potentially dangerous) situation. But regardless, girls seem to find this notion extremely compelling, that they have the power to change a guy through this magical force called love. And this is fiction. Edward is the boy that can be redeemed. Because Bella (and, by extension, the vicarious reader) is just that special.

In the end, the secret to Edward Cullen is his simplicity. He is a gorgeous, but dangerous boy who refuses to give in to carnal urges. And that’s all he is. Mrs. Meyer wrote four whole books about Edward Cullen without expanding his character beyond that bare skeleton. And yet, in spite of his shallowness, he manages to appeal to teenage girls in at least four different ways. He’s not a character. He’s a symbol, a poster. He is an archetype reduced to its purest form.

If there’s any one word that I would use to describe Twilight, it would be “pure.” Twilight is compelling, not because of its depth or complexity, but because Meyer didn’t allow anything to taint the purity of her fantasy. Least of all reality or character. And unfortunately, it seems that the narrowness and intensity of her focus has blinded fans to the genuinely unsettling aspects of the series. The stalking, the abusive subtext, the suggestion that women should be passive and submissive before men, that a girl’s life should revolve around her boyfriend. These are the things which have every sane reader protesting.

For further reading, see:

¹ http://www.salon.com/books/review/2008/07/30/Twilight/

² http://cleolinda.livejournal.com/602881.html

³ http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200812/twilight-vampires

Comment [68]

Introduction:

I knew that I had to read Twilight eventually. It’s part of the culture, after all, and as an aspiring author, it’s my responsibility to be as cultured as I possibly can. It’s also a personal interest; I have already written an article on Twilight’s Appeal, and the novel I am currently working on parodies the paranormal romance. So I knew that reading the book was inevitable. However, until recently, two persistent facts have stopped me from reading Twilight. The first is that school eats up a lot of time (which is no longer a problem, now that summer is here). The second is that I couldn’t bear the thought of giving Stephanie Meyer my money.

Well, this past Sunday, I did the unthinkable. That’s eleven dollars that I will never see again, and a fresh stain on my conscience.

There’s only one way I know to clear my conscience. I will take the book apart, summarize it, examine it, and deconstruct it, chapter by chapter, so that you need not add your hard-earned dollars to Ms. Meyer’s piggy bank. It might be ambitious for me, but it’s the surest way to stop this brick from burning a hole in my bookshelf.

So on with the specifics. This going to be a similar format to lccorp’s Bitterwood sporks. I will try to keep the tone serious, but remember this is Twilight we’re talking about. I’d probably go insane if I didn’t snark it up a little. My purpose is to educate, so I’ll try to keep that in mind while ranting, and include something constructive in my criticism. Otherwise, this is going to be fairly freeform. I’ll rant on issues as they appear, and indulge the little imp inside me that just loves loosely-associated tangents. After all, I don’t want to limit myself too much before I even start. I’ll probably experiment a little at first, keeping what works and pretending the other stuff never happened.

Now, before I begin the criticism in earnest, remember: I’m reading Twilight so that you don’t have to. So you all owe me one. May the lord of literature have mercy on my soul.

Preface

Twilgiht begins like all other great pieces of literature: with a Bible verse. Genesis 2:17 specifically.

But of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil,
thou shalt not eat of it:
for in the day that thou eatest thereof
thou shalt surely die.

Now, there are several reasons why an author would put a Bible verse at the beginning of her book. It can sum up the major themes of the work. It can relate directly to the content of the book. It can be there to add air of literary merit to a work. Or it can justify a piece of abstract, symbolic, and highly marketable cover art.

You know it, I know it, TV tropes knows it: the easiest way to make an otherwise pulpy, escapist fantasy into a work of significance and meaning is to open it with a Biblical allusion.

In all fairness, I can see where I am meant to draw the symbolic parallels. If Twilight can be said to have themes, temptation is certainly one of them. Original sin has had a sexual subtext since the middle ages, and like eating from the tree of knowledge, sexing a Meyerpire is fatal (unless you’re married to said Meyerpire, in which case sexing is perfectly safe and wholesome, but that’s for another book). In this context, vampires represent fallen man, and as such, most vamps are soulless monsters, except for a few virtuous, Christian vegetarian vampires who try to resist their hunger.

However, beyond that, I don’t think the metaphor was particularly well thought out. If Meyer intended her vampires to represent fallen man from the beginning, then she completely undermined herself by idolizing them the way she did. It’s one thing if your vampires are dark and dangerously alluring. It’s quite another if every second sentence is about their perfect, godlike beauty. And, I hardly need remind you, they sparkle. If Meyer’s vampires actually represented fallen man, then her sacrilege would rival Philip Pullman’s (who was legitimately trying to subvert the orthodox interpretation of original sin). Not to mention, the regular humans would get a far more sympathetic portrayal.

You get the idea. I’m a little shy about passing a verdict now, seeing as how I haven’t read the book yet. However, I think this is one of the dangers of indiscriminately attaching allusion to your work. Unless you know the work you’re alluding to and have an uncommonly good understanding of your own story, you could be implying things that you didn’t want to imply. This is doubly true for references attached after the work is finished. The pretty cover art isn’t necessarily worth a bundle of unfortunate implications.

Next we have a Teaser, that I remembered hearing at the beginning of Twilight the movie . “I’d never given much thought to how I would die,” begins a nameless first person narrator. We then find out that the narrator is in the same room with a “hunter,” that she’s dying in the place of a loved one, and that she does not regret the decisions that got her into this.

One thing I instantly notice is that this narrator does not sound like someone who is about to be murdered.

I knew that If I’d never gone to Forks, I wouldn’t be facing death right now. But, terrified as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to regret my decision. When life offers you a dream so far beyond your expectations, it’s not reasonable to grieve when it comes to an end.”

I read this and feel nothing for the character. There is no immediacy, fear, apprehension, internal conflict, or any of the other things someone might feel in the moments moments before she’s eaten alive. “It’s not reasonable,” she says? Well who’s reasonable in this kind of situation? She may say that says she’s terrified, but nothing in the prose reflects this. The tone of the section is more like, I’m about to die, and I guess that’s a frightening thought, but I don’t really have a choice about it, and since the past few months were great, I’m pretty much cool with it. Rather than leaving me with the image of a tragic hero, the narrator appears uninterested. She may think she’s dying for a noble purpose, but she should still want to live. Hell, even Jesus had doubts. If she doesn’t care, why should we?

This section also fails on a functional level. Teasers are not, strictly speaking, necessary for the story. After all, everything in the teaser will be repeated verbatim later on. You include a teaser because you think that, if you give the reader a short peek at an exciting scene near the end of the book, he will be curious enough about the circumstances surrounding said scene to read all the pages in-between. The catch, of course, is that the scene has to be exciting. And, in this case, it isn’t. Why? Because the narrator’s soon-to-end life is treated like a homework assignment she had fun blowing off. Perhaps we are meant to wonder why is this person so ambivalent towards being eaten. In fact, that might actually be an interesting way to introduce a character, though it would have to be done in a clever, offbeat way. The “friendly” mannerisms of the hunter flirt with this, but the way the narrator is portrayed is, unfortunately, dishpan dull.

One thing I will say for this teaser, however, is that it’s short and to the point. It introduces what it is meant to introduce: that the narrator is facing a life or death situation, and that something extraordinary happened to her recently. The narration is boring, yes, but it’s brief enough prevent boredom.

And so concludes the first instalment. Next comes the beginning of the book proper, with chapter one.

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Opening thoughts:

For the past week I’ve been counseling at a drama camp, supervising and generally helping the teachers put on a production with a cast 20 or so young children. This Friday, during snack time, I pulled out my new copy of Twilight and began to read. Several minutes later one of the girls walked up to me and said with a slight smirk, “You’re reading Twilight?” She looked maybe ten or eleven years old.

I confirmed that I was, and when she continued to smirk I told her, perhaps a little defensively, that I was reading it for educational purposes only. She took this to mean that I was reading it for school.

“No,” I said, “my teachers aren’t making me. I was just curious about the book.” I didn’t want to go to the trouble of explaining that I want to be an author, that my current story-in-progress is a parody of Twilight, and that I was writing a blog. I asked her what she thought was strange.

“Nothing,” she said, “boys just don’t usually read Twilight.” Then she walked away, still smirking.

Even now, I’m not sure what that encounter meant.

Chapter 1: First Sight

The book proper begins just before Bella leaves (narrator) her hometown of Phoenix. We get a quick summery of her family’s history: her mom and dad divorced each other shortly after her birth and she has since lived with her mother in Phoenix. Now that mom has remarried, Bella is going to live with her father in Forks, Washington so her mom and step-dad can go honeymooning. And apparently, Forks is the most insignificant, god-awful town on the planet.

There’s nothing much to talk about in this section. This passage manages to convey a lot of information quickly. It’s still a little info-dumpy, but it’s short and easy enough to read through, and that is a virtue.

After the background is established, Bella has a conversation with her mom about leaving. It’s very melodramatic heart-wrenching. Here are a few quick samples of the prose.

I felt a spasm of panic as I started at her wide, childlike eyes. How could I leave my loving erratic, hare-brained mother to fend for herself?

“I want to go,” I lied. I’d always been a bad liar, but I’d been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing now.”

I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise. (p. 2)

This entire conversation is trying to convince me that Bella is mature and selfless: a girl who, for most of her life, has taken care of her mother, and now must exile herself to an insignificant, god-awful town so mom can be happy. Isn’t it noble? The problem is that Bella completely undermines her appearances of nobility with her despairing, “woe is me” attitude. A little complaining is perfectly natural, and shows the audience that the character is suffering. Overdo it, however, and the character begins begins to appear bitter and weak and unable to stand up for herself. Selflessness is an attractive character trait. Self-pity and depression are not.

Bella’s informed misery continues on through the chapter. She meets her dad at the airport (she calls him “Charlie”). He drives her to his house. She finds out that he bought her a car. In between their dialogue, we learn about Charlie and relationship with Bella. It’s fairly typical; he’s gruff and aloof and has trouble expressing his feelings, but cares none the less. The exposition here I thought Meyer managed fairly well. It coveys the family dynamics briefly and effectively, and flows naturally in and out of the dialogue.

It would be nice, though, if Bella’s default reaction to everything wasn’t something to the effect of: “‘That’s really nice, Dad. Thanks, I really appreciate it.’ No need to add that my being happy in Forks was an impossibility.” (p. 7)

We get it. You’re unhappy. You don’t want to be in Forks. You know what would make me more sympathetic towards you? If you did something besides complain about it!

This a lesson all of us should remember: keep the angst in moderation. Now, don’t get me wrong, you can put your characters through hell. Murder his parents, rape his sister, drown his best friend, infect his puppy with leprosy. Make him suffer. But always remember that suffering and angst (on their own) do not create interesting stories or compelling characters. Anyone can be the victim of circumstance. Anyone can suffer. What will make your character special is the way he tries to cope with his circumstances and overcome his suffering.

I don’t mean by this that you should make light of your character’s hardship, quite the opposite. One cannot know the strength of a gale until he tries to stand against it. You character’s resistance needn’t be dramatic, successful, or even explicit. You just need to show that the character is trying to overcome the problems facing him, even if it’s just by subtly changing the way he perceives things. Give your reader someone to root for; not just someone to pity. The problem with angst is that it’s essentially passive. A little can be justified; even the best of us can be brought down by misfortune, but laying it on too heavily will quickly make you character appear whiny and pathetic. This is especially the case if, like Bella, the source of you character’s angst isn’t all that dreadful (Oh woe, I must go live with my loving father in a town populated by friendly peers and undead sex gods. However shall I endure?). It’s hard to be sympathetic towards someone who views her misery as a foregone conclusion.

Anyway, in brief, they reach Charlie’s house. Bella begins to unpack, noting that her dad still hasn’t gotten over the divorce. After a little more moping and exposition, Bella cries herself to sleep.

Bella wakes up the next day no more cheerful. She looks in a mirror so she can describe how tragically unattractive she is and generally continues to acquaint us with her apprehension.

Facing my pallid reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself. It wasn’t just physically that I’d never fit in. And if I couldn’t find a niche in a school with three thousand people, what were my chances here? I didn’t relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn’t relate well to people, period. […] Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain. (p. 10)

You get the idea.

Bella apprehensively drives to school, apprehensively talks to a receptionist, apprehensively goes to her classes, and apprehensively eats lunch. English is boring, of course, because she’s read all of the books before. She talks to a few of her classmates, including Eric, who she describes as an “overly helpful, chess club type” (which, roughly translated, means “I will shit a vacuum cleaner before I have romantic feelings for this guy”).

Then, at lunch, she sees the Cullens for the first time. And it begins.

I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were the faces you never expected to see, except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. Or painted by an old master as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide who was most beautiful—maybe the perfect blond girl or the bronze haired boy.

The girl spends three long paragraphs describing how ridiculously beautiful the five Cullens look. Bella, naturally, is curious about the her super smexy classmates, and asks Jessica, one of the normal girls, about them. She spills some juicy gossip. Bella, of course, decides that Jessica is a jealous eater of sour grapes, and looks continues to gape at the Cullens’ beauty. In other words, our plain-looking, socially awkward, desperately-worried-about-fitting-in narrator is giving the elitist sex gods a more sympathetic treatment than her friendly classmate. Favoritism, Haruhi. This is author favoritism.

Anyway, Bella goes to biology and sits next to (gasp!) Edward Cullen. He spend the entire class alternately glowering at her and retching into his palms. This does not stop Bella from telling us how toned his arms are. After Edward storm off, we meet Mike, who has a cute face, and is therefore given a mildly sympathetic portrayal. They talk for a while, and he seems rather friendly. “He was the nicest person I’d met today.”

After gym class (have I mentioned how clumsy this girl is yet?) our intrepid heroine runs into Edward in the guidance office, where he is desperately trying to change out of their biology class. Could Bella be the reason for Edward’s hissy fit? She seems to think so, and drives home on the verge of tears. Because, among all the agreeable people she met that day, the sexy one didn’t like her.

Chapter 2

The next day Bella goes back to school, and it looks like, in spite of everything, she’s fitting in just fine. Mike and “Chess Club Eric” are competing to see which one can be nicer to her. Mike seems to already have fallen head-over-heals for our heroine, and she’s already trying to find the best way to put him down. Edward, however, is nowhere to be found, which Bella is upset about for some reason. (Really, Bella? The guy who seems to hate your guts disappears, and you’re unhappy about it?)

That night, she cooks dinner and does domestic stuff.

When I got home I unloaded all the groceries, stuffing them wherever I could find an open space. I hoped Charlie wouldn’t mind. I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in an over to bake, covered the steak in marinade and [bla bla bla cooking bla]. When I was finished with that, I took my book bag upstairs. Before starting my homework, I changed into a pair of dry sweaters, pulled my damp hair into a pony tail, and checked my email for the first time.

This is bad prose. I realize that Meyer wanted to show Bella’s interests and add depth to her character, but this is not done by listing the stages of dinner preparation. I did this. I did that. Then I did this. I hoped this. Then I put this in the oven. It reads like a dull girl’s LiveJournal. There are some who say that having a girl who enjoys domestic tasks is sexist. I’m not one of them, personally; if an activity is important to a character, I don’t mind if it doesn’t push against gender roles. But in this passage, there is no sense that cooking is important to Bella. It’s just something that she does. This makes the allegations of sexism legitimate in my mind. Nothing indicates that this activity is an integral part of Bella’s character, and including it does nothing but complement a stereotype.

Anyway, Bella emails her mom. Over dinner she asks dad about the Cullens. Of course he thinks they’re amazing.

The next week passes without incident, and so the narration skips it. When the narration picks back up again, snow is falling at school and Edward is back, glaring at Bella from a cross the cafeteria. Then, in biology, Edward sits by Bella, and introduces himself. “‘Hello,’ said a quiet, musical voice.”

Here goes.

Bella looks up and spends a paragraph describing how ridiculously beautiful he is. “His dazzling face was friendly, open, a slight smile on his flawless lips…” and so on. This continues through the rest of their conversation. I’ll spare you the experience. Suffice to say, every laugh is enchanting, every contortion of his face dazzling, every look smoldering.

Anyway, they talk mostly about Bella. Edward probes her (not like that) with questions about her past, why she’s in forks, how she likes it there, how she likes her mom’s new husband. I’m pretty sure that this is some sort of female fantasy.

bq.His gaze became appraising. “You put on a good show,” he said slowly, “But I’d be willing to bet that you’re suffering more than you let anyone see.”
[…]
“Why does it matter to you?” I asked, irritated. I kept my eyes away, watching the teacher make his rounds.
“That’s a very good question,” he muttered, so quietly that I wondered if he was talking to himself.

You get the idea. I’m actually surprised by how well done the dialogue is. By that, I mean that it does what it’s intended to do: make Edward appear mysterious and perceptive. Why is he so very interested in Bella? How does he know that she hates the cold, or that she doesn’t like to be called “Isabella” (a mistake that every Muggle normal human has made up to this point). What is the significance of the smoldering sparkle in his golden eyes, or his ultrawhite (yes, ultrawhite) smile? One might almost think that he’s trying.

Of course, to one who’s seen the movie, read ahead in the book, or absorbed the information elsewhere (I’m guilty of all three) Edward’s dialogue really doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. One would think that, after over a century of being a (conspicuously beautiful) vampire among humans, Edward would have picked up a little bit of discipline and subtlety. Even if the man is (spoiler) burning with curiosity about the mind he cannot read, I sure he’s able to converse with this girl, you know, as if he couldn’t read the minds of her classmates.

I suppose what I’m getting at here is a deficiency in Edward’s character. As Christopher Paolini would put it, he’s a character of necessity. He behaves the way he does, not for his own reasons, but to fulfil the demands of the plot and of the audience. Girls like to fantasize about mysterious guys, and so Edward acts mysterious, even though his character has every reason to act inconspicuous and dull. Is he concerned about blowing the cover for his family? Is he worried that he’s losing his powers? Has he been working on a project? There are thousands of considerations that could give depth to Edward’s character. Unfortunately, the only ones apparent in his actions are the ones that directly involve Meyer’s Mary Sue.

I’d also like to point out that this conversation only works because Bella immediately treats Edward differently than any of the other boys interested in her. This isn’t a profound or original observation, but it’s worth making. The moral of the story? Pretty people get the better half of double standards.

And so ends chapter 2.

In unrelated news, I’m going to be at the Alpha Workshop for the next week and a half, so unless I have a lot more free time than I’m expecting to, this series will go on hold until I return. Thanks for your patience.

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Past articles may be found here and here

Opening Thoughts

Right now, I’m waiting in the Atlanta airport to board the flight back to my anonymous hometown. I arrived in Atlanta at 4:54 PM from Pittsburgh, where I attended Confluence, the Sci-Fi convention that concludes the Alpha workshop. If you looked in my backpack, you would find the following books:

Shadowbridge, by Gregory Frost
The God of Small Things, by Arundhati Roy
In The Forest of Forgetting, a collection of short stories by Theodora Goss
A Game of Thrones, by George R.R. Martin
Como agua para chocolate, de Laura Esquivel,
Like Water for Chocolate, the English translation of Como agua para chocolate
Song of the Lioness, by Tamora Pierce
and __Pride and Prejudice and Zombies_, by Jane Austin and Seth Grahame-Smith

At the workshop I met three of these authors, (Greg Frost, Dora Goss, and Tamora Pierce), all of whom were interesting people. Then, at Confluence, I met John Scalzi,.

So, in brief, I spent the past week with a group of talented, enthusiastic teenage writers, enjoying the company of professional authors.

But I am now no longer in Pittsburgh. I am in Atlanta. The time is 5:42 PM. And as I wait for my flight, the book that is not in my backpack, but propped open next to my laptop, is Twilight.

Chapter Three: Phenomenon

When we last saw Bella, she was trying to make sense of a mysterious conversation with Edward- the first time she’d talked to him ever. Chapter three begins when Bella wakes up the next morning, oddly excited about going to school. What could have caused this? Any guesses?

If I was being honest with myself, I knew I was eager to get to school because I would see Edward Cullen. And that was very, very stupid. (p. 54)

Well, at least she acknowledges it.

However, Bella’s spirits are dampened somewhat by the previous night’s snowfall. She nearly kills herself on the slippery driveway, but Charlie was kind enough to put chains on her tuck’s tires, so she has no problem driving to school.

On the road, Bella has a moment of introspection, which took me by surprise.

I distracted myself from my fear of falling and my unwanted speculations about Edward Cullen by thinking about Mike and Eric, and the obvious difference in how the teenage boys responded to me here. I was sure I looked exactly the same as I had in Phoenix. Maybe it was just that the boys back home had watched me pass slowly through all the awkward phases of adolescence and still thought of me that way. Perhaps it was because I was a novelty here, where novelties were few and far between. Possibly my crippling clumsiness was seen as endearing rather than pathetic, casting me as a damsel in distress. Whatever the reason, Mike’s puppy dog behavior and Eric’s Apparent rivalry with him were disconcerting. (p. 55)

Let me take a step back for a moment. When I began Twilight, I knew it featured several boys falling suddenly and inexplicably in love with a shy, awkward, plain-looking girl: high-octane wish fulfillment for vicarious readers, and infuriating to everyone else. However, I thought there was more to Bella’s circumstances than appeared at first brush. In spite of Meyer’s indulgence, many girls can relate to Bella’s sudden and unwanted popularity because they themselves have experienced it. It’s all part of growing up. The sweet, innocent girl wakes up to find that she’s curvier than she used to be, and then, in English class, she notices the creepy, greasy-haired, chess club boy staring at her. Sound familiar? Developmental biology has descried that, in every girl’s adolescence, she must cope with the squicky, and often sudden realization that men want to fondle her. Some manage this more gracefully than other.

Anyway, from this perspective, Bella’s sudden popularity is not unjustified. She merely experienced the changes most girls undergo during puberty on her flight from Phoenix to Forks.

A cry goes up from my loyal readers, “Literary merit in Twilight? Surely you jest!”

Now, don’t go leaping to conclusions. I very much doubt that this metaphor intentional. The fact that Meyer tried to explain away the boy’s affection says, to me at least, that she recognized their unrealistic behavior and simply didn’t want to fix it (you know, and not writing a Sue). Humorless lampshade hanging does not a justification make. In addition, I must say, once you see for yourself the way Bella is written, the idea that she embodies the complex adolescent struggle between childhood and womanhood (the operative word there being “complex”) is just laughable. She experiences none of the confusion, none of the conflict, and none of the personal development that comes with growing up. It’s like proclaiming Star Wars, Episode II the quintessential love story.

Anyway, once done lampshade hanging, Bella arrives at school. As she’s getting out of her car, however, she receives a sudden shock: Edward Cullen is standing four cars away from her, staring at her with a look of horror on his face! Oh, and a pickup truck is about to crush her. One page of passably-written action scene later, and we find Edward kneeling on top of Bella, holding the car above her legs, and a hand-shaped dent in the vehicle’s bumper. Edward then runs away.

The rest of the students are (understandably) freaked out, but Bella seems more concerned about the unwanted attention than her brush with mortality. Ambulances show up to take Bella to the hospital and she spends most of the ride fuming over Edward.

After a brief medical exam (Bella managed to avoid injury), Tyler, the boy who was driving the ill-fated car, visits her and spends several paragraphs apologizing. To Bella’s relief, Dr. Cullen (Edward’s father) soon takes Tyler away and tells her she’s free to leave. Bella then immediately seeks out Edward and begins to interrogate him about his superpowers. Edward tries to convince her he’s just a normal (if exceptionally pretty) high school student in a manner that makes it pretty damn obvious he’s lying.

“You owe me an explanation,” I reminded him.
“I saved your life— I don’t owe you anything.”

He was staring at me incredulously. But his face was tense, defensive. “You think I lifted a van off you?” His tone questioned my sanity, but it only made me more suspicious. It was like a perfectly delivered line by a skilled actor.
I merely nodded once, jaw tight.
“Nobody will believe that, you know.” His voice held an edge of derision now.
“I’m not going to tell anybody.” I said.
“Then why does it matter?”

Really, Edward? For a “skilled actor,” you really do suck at this. Remember what’s at stake (pun intended). Your entire family could be forced to uproot itself because you couldn’t fool a stupid mortal girl. You can do better.

Anyway, in the end, Bella goes home. Renée is in hysterics and Bella spends thirty minutes on the phone convincing her that everything is fine. After that, all tired from her big day, Bella goes to bed. She dreams of Edward.

Chapter 4: Invitations

Chapter four opens with a description of Bella wet Edward dream. It involved a lot of shadows and running.

She spends most of the next month (which is mercifully summarized) trying to get everyone to leave her alone. Tyler Crowley has now officially joined Mike and Eric in Bella’s fan club (you can roll your eyes with me). After much anguished deliberation, Bella has decided not to tell the entire school about Edward’s super powers. The man himself is again giving our heroine the cold shoulder, which is horrible. And, of course, he continues to intrude on her dreams.

Let me just get this out of the way now. Bella spends most of this chapter turning down Mike, Eric, and Tyler, who all decide to ask her to the “girls choice” dance on the same gorram day. Yep. I’m not making that up. So, rather than give a blow-by-blow account of Bella blowing off her groupies, I’m going to write a loosely-relevant rant about satellite characters.

So, what is a satellite character? According to TV Tropes, a satellite character is:

A character whose motivations and overall personality essentially revolve around their interaction with another […] character with whom they really should be on an equal standing.

Now that we’re clear on the terminology, let’s look at Mike Newton. It’s clear from the instant we meet him that he’s into Bella, and, from that moment on, this defines his character. Every time the narration mentions him, he’s either hitting on Bella, envying Edward, or glaring at Eric and Tyler.

I’ve already talked a lot about how unrealistic this entire scenario is, so I’m just going to brush over the suspension-of-disbelief issues. Suffice to say, if you don’t see anything wrong with three boys and a vampire all falling head-over-heels for a dull, unattractive girl they just met, you should get your head examined.

Rather, I’d like to point out the detrimental effect satellite characters have on the story. In Twilight, the results of poor characterization are a lot of near identical scenes in which Mike tries to be friendly and Bella pretends to enjoy his company. As you can probably imagine, this gets old rather quickly. Mike’s only goal is to be with Bella, and once it’s clear that Bella doesn’t give a rat’s ass about him, nothing he does will ever add any conflict or suspense to the story. Every scene he’s in becomes a chore to read through, since basically all he does is follow Bella around, hoping for a pity date. I am forced to conclude either that Meyer did not realize how boring this is, or she couldn’t conceive of a character with interests and aspirations beyond her Mary Sue.

Now, I am not saying that stories should develop every minor character. Their actions are not central to the narrative, and trying to completely flesh them out would distract from the main conflict. Stories belong to the main characters. However, under no circumstances should minor characters acknowledge this. No matter how peripheral to the narrative, no character should not behave as if the main characters are the center of the universe unless he has a really freaking good reason to (say he’s in a lord-vassal relationship, or the main character in question has scary powers). We don’t need to know every grisly detail of Mike Newton’s home life and backstory, but there should at least be hints that he has interests outside of Bella.

To illustrate my point, let’s look at Tyler who, in my opinion, is the most tolerable of Bella’s groupies. Why? Well, first off, he has an understandable reason for wanting to interact with Bella. He very nearly killed her, and wants to make up for it. Second, we have this conversation:

“Will you ask me to the spring dance?” he continued.
“I’m not going to be in town, Tyler.” […]
“Yea, Mike said that,” he admitted.
“Then why-”
He shrugged. “I was hoping you were just letting him down easy.”

It may not be brilliant characterization, but it shows, at least, that he’s not just another boy inexplicably smitten with Bella. To me, he comes off more as a cocky opportunist looking for a date, which is considerably more fun to read about. His characterization is not particularly deep, and nor do I think it should be. I certainly don’t sympathize with him (though the fact that he called out Miss Passive-Agressive on her conveniently scheduled road trip has endeared me to him somewhat). But his character can entertain me because his motives do not, by their very nature, put Bella on a pedestal. He says things that others won’t because they’re just so damn love-struck. In my opinion, this alone places him miles above Twilight’s other minor characters (and, sadly, many of the major characters).

Unfortunately, Tyler kind of blows it later on by unilaterally claiming Bella as his prom date, putting him back in lockstep with the other boys irrationally drawn to her. Congratz, Mrs. Meyer. You almost had an entertaining character.

The other minor characters are barely worth mentioning. Eric is a basically a more socially awkward version of Mike, and we don’t see much of him. Overall, the non-vampire girls do worse than the guys. Jessica’s single defining character trait appears to be her crush on Mike Newton, meaning that, whenever we see her, she’s either gushing about Mike or envying the attention he lavishes upon Bella. A satellite of a satellite. Angela, the only other named female non-vamp (aside from Bella’s mother), has not had any speaking lines yet, and, as far as I can tell, exists only so that Eric doesn’t end up sad and alone after Bella rejects him.

Incidentally, Edward and Bella are also satellites of each other, but I’m going to save my rant on their relationship for another chapter.

Anyway, back to the story. The same day all of the boys decide to ask her out, Bella has a brief and predictable encounter with Edward, who seems to think saying “it would be best if we weren’t friends” is going to counteract the allure of those smoldering, cream-inducing eyes. Once home, Bella ponders this development for a while. (A quick aside: the ellipses in the following passage do not mark words that I removed.)

“[Edward was] interesting…. and brilliant… and mysterious… and perfect… and beautiful… and possibly able to lift full-sized vans with one hand.”_

…

Moving right along, the next day, Edward offers to drive Bella to Seattle. Shock and Dazzle.

So ends chapter 4. Coming up next, we find out what happens when Bella sees blood. Stay tuned!

P.S. sorry for the delay. I was out of town for most of the month.

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Click here for Chapters 1 and 2, The Introduction and Preface and Chapters 3 and 4

Opening Thoughts

Ok, it’s been a while since I update this. Yes, I know. I’ll admit, I’d lost interest in Twilight for a while there. I suppose that, compared to school, friends, and romance, being an active member of an internet hatedome was not a priority for me. It’s not that I had forgotten the antifeminist messages in this cultural phenomenon, or the bad writing. Rather, I was noticing that the fans had quieted down, Breaking Dawn was largely considered a laughingstock, and at least half of my friends refused outright to have anything to do with the series. I was convinced that Twilight was headed the way Eragon. Acknowledged, but forgotten.

And then New Moon hit the theaters, waking the issue. In searching the internet, I found myself surrounded by new critiques of the series, and ridiculous stories about the fandom. I was reminded that Twilight still had violently obsessive fans numerous enough to give New Moon the most profitable opening weekend in film history. This is beating out The Dark Knight, and every other genuinely good movie, just because it is part of a franchise. A franchise that romanticizes abuse, and conjures a world where a strong husband is a woman’s crowning aspiration.

The point is, I’ve decided to revive this series, confident that, so long as Twilight movies are coming out, the anti-message will have an audience. So, without any further self-justification, here is Twilight: Abridged and Annotated, Chapters 5 and 6.

Chapter 5: Blood type

We begin this chapter with a stunned Bella making her way to English class. Why is she so stunned? Because at the end of the last chapter, she had this exchange with Mr. Sparkles:

“It would be more prudent for you not to be my friend,” he explained. “But I’m tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella.”

His eyes were gloriously intense, his voice smoldering. I couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“Will you go with me to Seattle?” he asked, still intense.

I couldn’t speak yet, so I just nodded.

He smiled briefly, and then his face became serious. “You really should stay away from me,” he warned. “I’ll see you in class.”

Unfortunately, affixation doesn’t come quickly enough, and she remembers how breathe again.

After English, Mike comes up and starts talking to Bella, perhaps a little more pouty after being turned down, but still into her. Business as usual.

Then everything changes when, at lunch, Edward invites Bella to sit with him. Though initially overwhelmed by his prettiness, she manages to maintain a modicum of composure. Enough at least, to participate in a remarkably creepy conversation. Choice quotes from Edward include:

“I think your friends are angry with me for stealing you[…] I may not give you back though”

“I got tired of staying away from you. So I’m giving up.”

I think it’s clear enough by now that, were Edward not the most gloriously smexy thing ever, the restraining orders would already be filed.

Basically, the way this conversation goes down, we learn that Edward’s semantic vocabulary contains three basic ideas.

1) I’m dangerous.
2) I want you.
3) Ho ho ho, I can read minds and I’m a vampire, but you don’t know that yet.

(Except we do, Edward. It says so in the second sentence on the back of the book.)

We also learn that coy smirks are extremely erotic.

Of course, when reading this, one has to wonder how a socially awkward 17 year old can talk circles around an ancient, cultured vampire? I mean, really. He’s had a century to perfect the art of conversation. So when Bella says “Are we friends now?” I expect Edward to do more than furrow his gorgeous brow and brood as if he’d never considered it before. A 100-year-old man should not behave like a middle school student around his crush. This is bad characterization.

Anyway, they talk some more. They play this passive aggressive guessing game, where Bella brings up Radioactive Spiders and Kryptonite. There isn’t much more to it. The banter is readable, but becomes frustrating rather quickly. I can only listen for so long to Edward dropping blatant hints about his nature, and then, in the next breath, warning Bella to stay away. I know, I know, this horse has already been beaten to a grainy pulp. But I’m simply appalled at what Meyer considers subtle.

Their conversation is brought to an end by the lunch bell, and as they leave, Edward tells her that he’s skipping class. After a bought of indecision, she decides to go to biology anyways, where the class was about to test blood types (just as a side note, in a modern biology class, this experiment is never done because it risks spreading AIDS and other blood-born diseases). Unfortunately, our heroine never has a chance to catch AIDS and die, because she passes out at the sight of blood. (This will never come up again over the course of the series).

Mike, as per usual, will use any excuse he can find to touch our heroine, even if she is about to vomit, and offers to help her to the nurse. Fortunately, Edward is waiting a few steps outside the class to assert his masculinity and take the nauseous girl off Mike’s hands.

Once alone, edward then goes back to taunting Bella with this “I know something you don’t know” routine (it’s funny because he’s a vampire… and there was blood involved… and… get it?). Once she feels better, he drags her out to his car and forces her to get in. But instead of breaking out the chloroform like a normal stalker, he plays her classical music.

Ugly Swan: OMG I no this song!
Eddy_Glorious: No way, u listen to classical music 2?

Well, that sound contrived. And with that awkward bonding moment behind them, Edward drives Bella home (really really fast). On the way, Bella explains that she is so withdrawn because she has the mentality of a middle aged woman (as if she wasn’t enough of an author avatar already, Stephanie). And then they talk about how selfless she is, sacrificing her happiness for the sake of her mother. Edward drops unsubtle hints that he may be interested in her, and talks a little about the rest of the Cullens.

Edward then reveals that he won’t be going to the beach party. He’ll be on a mysterious hiking trip all alone with his big brother Emmet, and Bella is so disappointed by Edward’s unquestionably heterosexual plans that she doesn’t ask the one pertinent question: “How the fuck did you know where I live?”

Chapter 6: Scary Stories

At school the next day, all the chatter is about Edward (unapproachable!) inviting Bella (frumpy!) to sit with him. Because apparently these people have nothing better to do than obsess about Bella’s love life. We meet a new girl, named Lauren, who need not be known by any name other than Jealous Bitch, who exists only to be Tyler’s love interest.

Skipping forward to the day of the beach trip, and we find Bella is regretting Edward’s absence. Alas. There’s a couple of pages of socializing, a little scenery description. Tyler gets some action on with Jealous Bitch. The boys try to hit on Bella, but soon their designated love interests come to distract them. There’s a brief hiking trip where Bella shows that, in a universe without Edward Cullen, she might have made a good marine biologist. And then we meet a group of Native Americans. Notable among them: Jacob Black.

“His skin was beautiful, silky and russet colored; his eyes were dark, set deep above the high planes of his cheek bones[…] Altogether, a very pretty face”

Our protagonist: teaching girls that you shouldn’t judge people by their appearance. Unless they’re men.

He immediately recognizes her. Turns out he’s an old family friend. They talk. He has a brilliant smile, and, on the whole, seems like a nice, upstanding kinda guy. Then a passing mention of the Cullens makes Jacob’s tribe freak out.

He said that the Cullens didn’t come here, but his tone implied something more— that they weren’t allowed; they were prohibited.

In order to express how I feel about this passage, I will use an image.

Artimaeus posted a picture about Captain Obvious that had nothing to do with Twilight, but his tone implied that he believe Stephanie Meyer’s writing was like the person who wrote the motivational poster. He was mocking her.

SMEYER, WE AREN’T IDEOTS!

Anyway, in Meyer’s knack for stating the obvious wasn’t already getting on your nerves, Bella senses an opportunity to find out more about her love interest, and begins to use her feminine whiles manipulate Jacob. Yes. Yes, you read that correctly. See for yourself.

I had a sudden inspiration. it was a stupid plan, but I didn’t have any better ideas. I hoped that Jacob was as yet inexperienced around girls, so that he wouldn’t see through my sure-to-be-pitiful attempts at flirting.

*Has she no shame?* I mean, here she is, coldly manipulating someone else’s feelings for he own benefit. Ready for the really sad part? It works. She invites him to walk along the beach with her, “trying to imitate that way Edward had of looking up from underneath his eyelashes,” and he begins to preen like a pampered peacock. She gives him an alluring smile; he smiles back, “looking allured”.

….

Now, what’s wrong with this picture? Ok, aside from the fact that Bella is being a cad. And the strange tendency of every boy in this town to be irredeemably smitten with her five seconds after meeting her. And the fact that… ok, here’s what I want to get at: all through the book we’ve been told (and sometimes shown) that Bella is romantically and socially clueless. And then she becomes a bold seductress.

What. The. Fuck.

You can’t have is both ways, Stephanie. If your character is supposed to be insecure, she can’t forget all of her fear and anxiety just because you want her to seduce the cute Indian boy. Likewise, if your character is confident enough to put the the moves on a complete stranger, she should not be struck dumb by the sight of Edward Cullen. Is she insecure and shy or isn’t she?

Any well-written character must have limitations- things that must be overcome before the character can accomplish his goals. The struggle of the protagonist to overcome his limitations is the driving force behind all stories, whether these limitations are physical or psychological, external or internal. They define the story. They make characters human. They give characters something to strive for, struggle against, and hopefully overcome. This is why we at Impish Idea restate again and again the importance of FLAWS to well-written characters.

The problem is, Bella has no flaws. Or rather, she has flaws (insecurity, low-self esteem, shyness, etc…) but they never prevent her from DOING anything, even when they probably should. They never make her struggle for anything or stretch herself. In this scene, she gets an idea, considers it stupid, tries it anyway, and it miraculously works. She may profess her nervousness, but nothing in the narration indicates that seducing Jacob was difficult for her. There is no suspense; no sense that anything is at stake. We aren’t worried that she’ll be humiliated and shamed. We aren’t wondering whether or not she’ll find the information about Edward. We’re just kind of tagging along as Bella effortlessly succeeds. Of course, this doesn’t matter to a fanbase interested only in vicariously seducing hot native american boys, but the rest of us want more.

And let’s not forget that Bella Swan, the virtuous, selfless role model for girls everywhere, is coldly manipulating Jacob’s emotions for her own benefit. Hear that girls? If you lead boys on until you get what you want from them, you will be blessed with a lifetime of healthy, happy relationships. Right…

Anyway, as I was saying, Bella activates her feminine wiles, and Jacob spills about her stalker boyfriend.

“And what are they?” I asked finally, “What are the cold ones?”
He smiled darkly.
“Blood drinkers,” he replied in a chilling voice. “Your people call them vampires.”

I AM BLINDED BY THE OBVIOUSNESS!!! Yes, he calls them the “cold ones”, and says the word Vampire. Just when I thought Meyer couldn’t get any LESS subtle. Really, I don’t understand why she’s even bothering with this. Edward is a vampire. It says so on the back of the book. Just get the contrived, suspenseless mystery out of the way so you can write the soft porn we all know you want to.

And that, my friends, is the end of this chapter. Tune in next week, where Bella finally discovers the grand secret that Smeyer has been repeatedly beating us with. I can hardly wait.

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For the previous article, click here

Opening Thoughts:

Back again, with more fabulous Edward and Bella action. If by fabulous you mean offensive, and by action, you mean inaction. Ha ha.

I don’t have many opening thoughts, but if you have some time, you should check out “Mark Reads Twilight”, another blogger whose insightful rants will fuel the self-righteous flame of any anti. Last I checked, he has read and blogged all the way up to chapter 9 in Breaking Dawn. He’s definitely worth checking out if like my series. Plus, he updates more frequently than I do. So yea.

I think I’ll just put that link at the end of this article.

Chapter 7: Nightmare

This chapter is filler. Almost nothing plot relevant happens. Bella listens to music for a while. She has a nightmare about Edward and Jacob, filled with exceptionally obvious foreshadowing. Upon waking, she googles “vampire”. She then goes for a walk in the woods to think about vampires, and has an uneventful day at school.

This did not need to take 23 pages.

Now, before I continue with the highlights of this chapter, I’d like to show you a magic trick.

I hated using the internet here. My modem was sadly outdated, my free service substandard; just dialing up took so long that I decided to go get a bowl of cereal while I waited.

I ate slowly, chewing each bite with care. When I was done I washed the bowl and spoon and put them away. My feet dragged as I climbed the stairs. I went to my CD player first, picking it up off the table. I pulled out the headphones, and put them away in the desk drawer. Then I turned the same CD on, turning it down to the point where it was background noise.

With another sigh, I turned to my computer. Naturally the screen was covered in pop up ads. I sat in my hard folding chair and began closing all the little windows. Eventually I made it to my favorite search engine. I shot down a few more pop-ups and then typed in one word. (p. 134)

Behold, as I make two of these paragraphs disappear!

I hated using the internet here. The modem was sadly outdated, and I was able to fix myself a bowl of cereal, eat it slowly, and clean up after myself in the time it took to dial up. When I finally reached the search engine through a sea of pop-ups, however, I hesitated, suddenly daunted by the empty text box. It struck me, I had no clue where to begin. This had to be a colossal waste of time. But I was committed, and there was no point dancing around the subject. With a resigned sigh, I typed in one word.

Is my writing spectacular? Probably not. But I was able to say in a single paragraph what Meyer said in three. Granted, my paragraph is a bit longer than any one of her paragraphs, but rather than describing the way Bella adjusts her headphones and chews her food, I develop her mental state. And the rub is, she still used twice as many words as I did.

It seems that neither Meyer nor her editors were familiar with the concept of word economy. Repeat after me, excess verbiage is not a good thing. Writers are told all the time “show don’t tell”, but there is a slightly lesser know corollary to this rule, which is “show what’s important”. You need not (and should not) show every unimportant detail of one’s daily routine. A few details are fine and make the story more real, but let me be unequivocally clear on this point: Meyer had no reason to narrate the consumption of a bowl of cereal. No reason. If she was being payed by the word then she should be jailed for theft, because our main character shouldn’t need three paragraphs to prepare to run a Google search.

Although this is the most extreme example of pointless narration I noticed in the chapter, there are many others. A prudent editor (or author) could probably have cut this chapter in half without harming the story.

But anyway, back to the action inaction.

Bella’s adventure in the internet turns up some vague information on Vampires most of us already knew. You know, how they’re strong and pretty and not necessarily evil. Stuff that was old when Anne Rice hit the market.

She then takes a walk in the forest behind her house so she can think more clearly, and concludes that “Edward Cullen was not… human. He was something more.”

Brilliant deduction, Bella. He only lifted a car off of you with his bare hands. And that’s ignoring the anvil-esqu hints he’s been dropping for the past month.

She decides that Edward is very possibly dangerous, but since the thought of not hanging out with him causes her physical pain— yes, I’m not kidding, “I was gripped in a sudden agony of despair as I considered that alternative. My mind rejected the pain, quickly skipping to the next option”— she decides to pursue a relationship with him anyways.

“Because when I thought of him, of his voice, his hypnotic eyes, the magnetic force of his personality, I wanted noting more than to be with him right now. Even if…” (p. 139)

Bella, were you born without an instinct for self preservation, or did Edward dazzle it from you?

In any case, with new resolve and precious little new plot, Bella walks back home. Meyer spends two paragraphs narrating this. Bella writes an English paper, and does some more boring things. She talks about how charming Charlie’s smile could be. The next day, she goes to school, and has another predictable encounter with Mike, who is still acting like a love-struck doofus. Bella tells Mike that she is writing about Misogyny in Shakespeare’s plays (I’m not sure how that line got into the book, or how intentional the irony was). Discovering that the Cullens had skipped school sends Bella “spiraling downward in misery” as she is curly forced to talk to her friends.

But by and by, the day passes without any significant plot developments. We find out that Bella reads Jane Austin in her spare time (isn’t she smart?) and there’s a brief, but sweet moment with Charlie.

There wasn’t anything on that I wanted to watch, but he knew I didn’t like baseball, so he switched to a pointless sitcom that neither of us enjoyed. He seemed happy though, to be doing something together. And it felt good, despite my depression, to make him happy.

Brief and whiny, but sweet.

After school the next day Bella, Jessica, and Angela drive to Port Angeles to go shopping. That, folks, is the entire chapter. All 23 pages of it.

Chapter 8: Port Angeles

The good news is that, for the first time in ages, Bella isn’t being horribly depressing.

It had been a while since I’d had a girls’ night out, and the estrogen rush was invigorating. We listened to whiny rock songs while Jessica jabbered on about the boys she hung out with.

However, this has not made her any less sarcastic and judgmental. Anyhoo, the three girls go shopping and buy dresses. Bella asks some questions about the Cullens. Apparently they’re always missing on sunny days to go on camping trips. A lame excuse, but whatever.

After the dresses are bought, Bella leave her friends to visit a bookstore. She doesn’t enter, however, because of the “ftifty year old woman with long, grey hair worn strait down her back, clad in a dress right out of the sixties, smiling welcomingly from behind the counter.”

Let me get this straight: you want desperately to be with a lethal vampire, but kindly hippies terrify you? What kind of a paranoid freak are you?

So distracted is Bella by thoughts of her vampire crush, that she wanders off in completely in the wrong direction, gets lost in a dockside alley, and is very nearly raped by four scary men.

Now, I must admit, this passage isn’t poorly written. It’s one of the few times when Meyer does not loudly broadcast her moves, and actually manages to build a little suspense. For about two pages, Bella tries nervously to lose the two men who might possibly be following her. It looks she’s made it to the safety of a busy street, and we are allowed to think for a moment that all of her fretting was for naught. And then Bella realizes that the men had been herding her into a trap. Overall, I think Meyer executed very well Bella’s transition from uncertain fear, to relief, to terror.

Of course, Edward swerves up in his mighty volvo to rescue our heroine.

The silver car unexpectedly fishtailed around, skidding to a stop with the passenger door open just a few feet away from me.

“Get in,” a furious voice commanded.

Swept away by Edward’s authority and masculinity, Bella feels completely secure as he drives her to safety, even though Edward is feeling very angry and potentially violent.

“Sometimes I have a problem with my temper, Bella,” He was whispering too as he stared out the window, his eyes narrowed to slits. “But it wouldn’t be helpful for me to turn around and hunt down those…” He didn’t finish his sentence, struggling for a moment to control his anger again.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, he is contemplating murder. Isn’t that dreamy? Doesn’t that just make you feel all safe and secure? And of course, like the masculine man that he is, Edward decides that he and Bella are going to dinner. He uses his “silken, irresistible voice” to get rid of Angela and Jessica. And then, although Bella isn’t hungry, Edward drives her to a restaurant. Once seated, Edward and Bella begin to talk.

“Do I dazzle you?” [he asked.]

“Frequently,” I admitted.

If there is a god, may he smite me now…

Edward spends the next few pages dazzling waitress, commanding Bella to eat, and smiling “perfectly crooked smiles”. He seems unusually preoccupied with Bella’s physical comfort. Bella, meanwhile, seems unusually preoccupied with Edward’s sculpted chest, which can be seen through his tight, unquestionably heterosexual turtleneck. Bella mentions how safe she feels around him no less than twice a page (despite the fact that he was stalking her and seriously considering murder), and Edward reveals that he can read minds.

His eyes were locked with mine, and I guessed he was making the decision right then whether or or not to simply tell me the truth [….] “I don’t know if I have a choice anymore.” His voice was almost a whisper, “I was wrong— You’re much more observant than I give you credit for.”

Excuse me for a moment while I turn on the caps lock. BELLA IS NOT EXCEPTIONALLY OBSERVANT. YOU HAVE BEEN DROPPING PAINFULLY OBVIOUS HINTS ABOUT YOUR POWERS FOR THE PAST SIX CHAPTERS. A HIGH-COLLARED CAPE AND BAT WINGS WOULD HAVE BEEN MORE SUBTLE.

Anyway, as it turns out, Edward is aware of Bella’s abnormally high propensity to almost die, and has taken it upon himself to stalk her keep her safe. To that end, he had followed her to Port Angeles and was reading the minds of everyone around her to track of her movements, just like every good boyfriend should do.

Bella doesn’t seem to mind, and calmly finishes her meal. They leave the restaurant, and the chapter ends as Edward and Bella pull onto the road, with the promise of more dramatic revelations.

And that, my friends, concludes this installment of Twilight Abridged and Annotated. As promised, here is the link to Mark Reads Twilight.

Till next time, this is Artimaues, signing off.

Comment [17]

Opening Thoughts:

Ok, I know this is only one chapter. I’m going to try to do an experiment so see if I can get content out faster if I write up one chapter at a time instead of two.

Anyway, Stephenie Meyer has claimed that her characters, Bella in particular, are very mature. Just keep that in mind while I go through this chapter.

Chapter 9: Theory

The last chapter ended on a cliffhanger, as Bella was getting into Edward’s car at Port Angeles. One inside, Bella continues to press Edward about his powers.

“Can I ask just one more?” I pleaded as Edward accelerated much too quickly down the quiet street. He didn’t seem to be paying any attention to the road at all.
p. 179

Reckless driving is an aphrodisiac . Who would have thought?

Anyway, even though Edward has all but admitted that he has supernatural powers, he continues to evade questions. I guess Meyer has to create tension somehow. So Bella and Edward continue this verbal dance as we slowly coax out more secrets. First, we learn how Edward was able to track Bella without his mind-reading powers.

“Fine then, I followed your scent.” He looked at the road, giving me time to compose my face.”
p. 180

That line alone should have been sending up little red flags in Bella’s mind, but as we’ve already established, she is a moron. Instead of pressing Edward, she hastily changes the subject, letting our lead man spill some more exposition, explaining how his powers work, and explaining why Bella’s mind eludes him. Perhaps we will finally understand how Bella managed to confound someone so powerful and perceptive.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “The only guess I have is that maybe your mind doesn’t work the same way that the rest of theirs do.”
p. 181

Ok, look I’ve been inside this girl’s mind for almost 200 pages, and nothing remotely unique or special or even offbeat has come up. Are we expected to take Edward’s word for it? Saying it does not make it so, Stephenie. Look, I get it, you don’t have the skill to make your viewpoint character seem truly unique and special. This isn’t necessarily a damning criticism. Even among legitimately good authors, there aren’t many who can convince a cynical reader that their characters have any special, indescribable charm (the best that I’ve encountered so far is Lyra, from the His Dark Materials fame). Lacking this talent doesn’t necessarily make you a bad author. However, it means that you should not, under any circumstances, make your protagonist’s “specialness” central to your bloody plot.

For now, I’ll imagine that Edward’s sentence ended with the word “work”.

“Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I’m only getting FM” p. 181

Ok, I’m just going to move on.

Edward’s exposition is briefly interrupted while Bella freaks out about his reckless driving. After he grudgingly reduces his speed to the double digits, Bella explains how she figured out Edward little secret (in case you can’t remember, Jacob told her, and she did a google search). And gradually, it all comes out. Edward is a vampire. If surprised you, then congratulations! You are officially dumber than dirt.

Now, to Stephenie Meyer’s Credit, she didn’t have a cheesy, melodramatic sequence where Edward is like “Say it,” and Bella whispers “Vampire”. The dialogue actually feels somewhat natural now that Edward isn’t drawing out an asinine guessing game. This conversation works in large part because nobody actually says “I’m a Vampire!” or “You’re a Vampire!” Nobody needed to say it; it simply became apparent over the course of the conversation. If only the rest of the book had this conversation’s restraint.

Now, I am going to do on a quick digression. Part of the reason why Twilight resonates so well with the squealing fangirl demographic is because it is very easy to forget what Edward is confessing. In any halfway sane scenario, I’m sure most people would be leery of someone with supernatural powers and an overwhelming desire to kill people. Take a look at this segment of conversation.

“You’re angry,” I sighed. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No,” he said, but his tone was as hard as his face. “I’d rather know what you’re thinking— even if what you’re thinking is insane”

“So I’m wrong again?” I challenged.

“That’s not what I’m referring to. ‘It doesn’t matter’” He quoted, gritting his teeth together.

“I’m right?” I gasped

“Does it matter?”

I took a deep breath.

“Not really,” I paused. “But I am curious.” My voice, at least, was composed.

He was suddenly resigned. “What are you curious about?” p. 185

This dialogue could easily have been spoken by middle-schoolers who had just admitted that they like each other. That’s what the tone of this dialogue suggests. You probably can remember back when you were a seventh-grader tormented by feelings you didn’t know how to express, terrified that your crush might discover your affection while secretly wishing he or she would return it. Well, that’s what Edward sounds like. He makes rash declarations, hesitates, goes back on himself, drops hints, makes intentionally vague statements, and follows them up with flashes of grudging honesty. Edward is treating his vampirism like a seventh grader treats a crush.

I’ll give Meyer some credit for this, as the metaphor of vampirism for adolescent love gives this series what little charm it has, and is very powerful if you buy into the “forbidden love” idea. There’s only one problem. EDWARD ISN’T TWELVE.

There’s no simpler way to say it. Edward is a ridiculous character. Our author may have have written a clever metaphor, but in the process abandoned believable characterization. There is no reason for Edward to behave the way he does, and every new revelation makes it harder to believe that he is a 100 year old man struggling against his compulsion to murder. One might expect that, in a century of living, one would outgrow this self-absorbed melodrama, and learn to treat his condition with some discipline and maturity. Unfortunately, Stephenie Meyer is only willing to allow Edward enough personality to entertain her indulgent fantasy.

Understand, I am not saying that there is only one way to write a 108-year-old vampire. Nor am I calling the “vampirism is forbidden love” inherently absurd. Authors should be free to give their characters life in whatever way inspires them. However, this does not give Stephenie Meyer the liberty to make Edward act like an angsty eighth-grader. At least, not if she wants to be taken seriously by any intelligent readers. Imagine how much more interesting Edward would be if his grief was more subtle and dignified, or his personality more reserved. This was the charm of Mr. Darcy, the leading man from Pride and Prejudice on which Edward was partially based. Like Edward, Mr. Darcy nursed his love for Elizabeth Bennet in private. Jane Austin’s lead man, however, was so composed that her protagonist spent most of the book thinking he was a stuck up prick blind to his compassion or nobility. Though Mr. Darcy’s affection for Elizabeth is made clear fairly early, his dignity and reserve still add an element of mystery to his character. Behind his actions, there is always a sense of purpose, even if the reader doesn’t know what his purpose is. Meyer, it seems, was aiming for “mysterious” and hit “bipolar”.

Anyway, back in the exposition. Edward proceeds to deny most of the traditional Vampire mythos. No sleeping in coffins, no burning in the sunlight, and so on. He also talks about his diet (animals only), and goes back to his old habit of mentioning every few pages how dangerous he is.

“They’re right to keep their distance from us. We are still dangerous.”

“I don’t understand”

“We try,” he explained slowly, “We’re usually very good at what we do. We sometimes make mistakes. Me, for example, allowing myself to be alone with you.” p. 187

Of course Bella doesn’t listen because she’s so desperate to spend time alone with him.

“Tell me more,” I asked desperately, not caring what he said, just so I could hear his voice again

He looked at me quickly, startled by the change in my tone. “What more do you want to know?”

“Tell me why you hunt animals instead of people,” I suggested, my voice tinged with desperation. I realized my eyes were wet, and I fought against the grief that was trying to overpower me. p. 187

Yes, Bella is crying at the prospect of having to get out of Edward’s car. I’m speechless. How can anybody read (or in Stephenie Meyer’s case, write) shit like this and call Bella a strong and independent character? I mean, are you saying that women should be completely dependent on a man for their emotional security, and that it’s healthy to be filled with overpowering grief at the mere thought of a conversation with him ending?

Also, I have to wonder, is this really the type of relationship that Twi-hards dream of? Wouldn’t they prefer to fantasize about a relationship were both people are…. I don’t know…. happy? I’ve lost count of the number of times talking to Edward has made Bella cry.

And perhaps more to the point, if Bella is supposed to unusually mature, then why does every little thing crash upon her like an overstated tidal wave? I mean, really. I thought she was supposed to be collected and level. Wouldn’t growing up as the “adult” in her house make he less inclined partial to melodrama? If she was able to seduce Jacob without batting an eyelash, why is she suddenly crying for no reason? Meyer can’t write a consistent character.

And I’ve become really fond of rhetorical questions.

Anyway, Edward for some reason doesn’t notice that Bella is crying, and talks more about his eating habits. Yes, if you didn’t already know, they call themselves “vegetarians”. I guess it’s funny because they eat meat. And roughly in this manner their coy little chat continues.

.

“I’ve noticed that people- men in particular- are crabbier when they’re hungry.”

He chuckled. “You’re observant, aren’t you.”

I didn’t answer; I just listened to the sound of his laugh, committing it to memory. p.188

A little obsessive, aren’t we?

“Why didn’t you want to leave?” It makes me… anxious… to be away from you.” His eyes were gentile but intense, but were making my bones turn soft. “I wasn’t joking when I asked you to try not to fall in the ocean or get run over last Thursday. I was distracted all weekend, worrying about you.” p. 188

I guess two can play the “obsessive” game. It’s also fantastic to see just how little confidence Edward has in our strong, independent protagonist. It’s like everything he says feeds Bella’s insecurity. Of course, Bella admits that being away from Edward makes her anxious as well, which prompts yet another rant about the dangers of vampires.

“Don’t you see, Bella? It’s one thing for met to make myself miserable, but a wholly other thing for you to be so involved.” He turned his anguished eyes to the road, his words flowing almost too fast for me to understand. “I don’t want to hear that you feel that way.” His voice was low but urgent. His words cut me. “It’s wrong. It’s not safe. I’m dangerous, Bella —- please, grasp that”

“No.” I tried very hard not to look like a sulky child.

“I’m serious,” he growled.

“So am I. I told you, it doesn’t matter what you are. It’s too late.”

His voice whipped out, low and harsh. “Never say that.”

His voice whipped out, growling, his anguished eyes cutting into me. “It’s too late,” I intoned, my voice low and harsh God, I’m drowning in the melodrama. Look, no matter how low and urgent Edward’s voice may be, it is a piss poor substitute for real tension. Likewise, having Edward say that he is dangerous does not replace actual danger. Again, saying it doesn’t make is to. If your dialogue is powerful enough and the situation warrants it, you shouldn’t need to describe how low and urgent each line is. Readers will get the idea.

A lesson to all of you perspective writers: If you want to create a sense of danger, actually put your protagonists in danger. Write situations where they truly could die/suffer/lose everything important to them. And then have them behave like it. You may know that your protagonist is going to come out ok in the end, but your characters shouldn’t. And they shouldn’t act like it either. Kill this urge to protect your characters as soon as possible, because it leads directly to stories like Twilight, where the first 200 pages are without any suspense or tension. Why should we be afraid for Bella if she isn’t even afraid for herself?

The tragedy about Twilight is that it would have been so easy to make the story better. A vampire is stalking our protagonist, breaking into people’s minds to track her location every moment of every day, all the while his fighting feral compulsion to drink her blood. Stephenie Meyer made this situation boring by absolutely refusing to acknowledge the danger in any of Bella’s thought or actions. Bella’s blind certainty of Edward’s goodness is both stupid and boring. Let her be conflicted. Let her have doubts. Let Edward scare her. Let her behave the way a normal person would if a vampire was stalking them. Elizabeth Bennet spent the majority of Pride and Prejudice convinced that Darcy was an arrogant ass hat, and the story works brilliantly. Unfortunately, Meyer cared more about idolizing Edward than telling a good story.

The conversation with Edward has neared its end by this point. Edward drops Bella off at her house, promising that he would see her the next day. Once Edward leaves, Bella greets Charlie and calls her friends, who are still on the road. With that plot hole figured out way, Bella then goes to bed. The Chapter finally ends with the paragraph that can also be found on the back of the book.

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him— and I didn’t know how potent that part might be— that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.
p. 195

Okay. Bella. First. You have been on friendly terms with this man for maybe a week or two. You are not unconditionally or irrevocably in love with him.

Second. I find it stunning how, in a single paragraph printed on the back cover of her book, Meyer managed to kill any suspense her story might have had. It’s almost systematic. What is Edward? He’s a vampire. How does Bella feel about that? She loves him anyways. Will Edward drink her blood? Well, that’s not spoiled on the back of the book, but Meyer has been consciously trying to make him the least threatening vampire ever. What’s left?

Nothing. Nearly 200 pages of nothing.

And because this article has been sadly lacking gifs, I’m going to leave you with this little bit of funny.

Comment [10]

When we last look at Twilight, Edward had admitted his uncontrollable lust for human blood, and Bella had proclaimed her unconditional, irrevocable love for him. The action picks up the morning after. Was it all a dream? Bella wonders.

I clung to the parts that I’m sure I couldn’t have imagined- like his smell. I was sure I couldn’t have dreamed that up on my own[…] I dressed in my heavy clothes, remembering I didn’t have a jacket. Further proof that my memory was real. p196

I seriously don’t get why Meyer is constantly harping on Edward’s smell. He already has godly looks, super strength, super speed, immortality, and telepathy. Was it really necessary for him to sweat Tag™ Body Spray? I suppose it’s true that olfactory imagery is underused in literature, but this is just creepy. And not in a suspenseful way. It’s also ironic that Twilight was allegedly inspired by one of Meyer’s dreams.

Moving on, Bella is ready to leave the house, when who should she find in her driveway?

It was such a thick fog that I was a few feet down the driveway before I realized that there was a car in it: a silver car. My heart stuttered, thudded, then picked up again double time. I didn’t see where he came from, but suddenly he was there, pulling the door open for me.

“Do you want a ride with me today?” he asked, amused by me expression as he caught me by surprise again. There was uncertainty in his voice. He was really giving me a choice- I was free to refuse, and part of him hoped for that.

Let’s ignore the fact that Bella just described an arrhythmia, and focus on how many mixed messages Edward is sending here. I mean, really, if you didn’t want to give her a ride to school, why did you go out of your way to drive to her house and offer her a ride in the most contrived, “sweep the woman off her feet” manner possible? Yes, he’s supposed to be conflicted. Yes, part of him wants to give Bella a ride (no pun intended). But never in my experience has repressed desire manifested itself with the trappings of a 50s romance novel. You may say that Edward is “uncertain,” but his actions tell a different story. I don’t see how Edward is lauded as this avatar of self-restraint when he’s quite consciously putting the moves on Bella. He isn’t behaving like someone tortured by shame and inner conflict; he’s acting like he wants to get into her pants.

Of course, maybe this why Edward has such broad appeal; he goes through all the motions of romance, despite expecting no payoff.

And of course Bella accepts his offer; how could she refuse? Especially since his unquestionably heterosexual gray knit, V-neck shirt clings tightly to his perfectly muscled chest, leading one to wonder why, if Edward and the Cullens are trying to remain inconspicuous, he wears more skintight clothing than Freddy Mercury?

Oh right… because Meyer cared more about making tweenage girls squeal than writing a believable character.

Anyway where was I? Oh, right, Edward was giving Bella a ride (to school! to school!). On the way, their topics of conversation include: How fragile Bella is, how Edward wants to know everything Bella thinks, how Edward and his family try to blend in, and why they fail so miserably at it.

“Why do you all have cars like at all?” I wondered aloud. “If you’re looking for privacy?”

“An indulgence,” he admitted. “We all like to drive fast.” (p199)

What… Really….? When I read parts of this, I feel like some editor pointed out to Meyer the parts of her manuscript that made no sense (like the Cullen’s flamboyant displays of wealth, or why every boy in Forks was irrationally smitten with Bella) and instead of fixing her story, she just tossed in a few lines of dialogue to lampshade problems. I know I’m beating this point to a pulp, but it’s irritating to me how clearly the author just didn’t care. It’s like she’s saying to her audience with a wink, “I’m aware parts of my story make no sense, but we know you really just want to fantasize about rich vampires who drive expensive cars and wear skintight shirts.” Gah, why is this series so popular?!

Once they arrive at school, they meet Jessica, who is shocked, shocked to see Bella in the same car as Edward Cullen. And since Edward can read the poor girl’s mind, he knows that she plans to grill Bella about him during Trig.

“She wants to know if we’re secretly dating. And she wants to know how you feel about me,” he finally said.

“Yikes. What should I say?” I tried to keep my expression very innocent. People were passing on their way to class, probably staring, but I was hardly aware of them.

“Hmmm.” He paused to catch a stray lock of hair that was escaping the twist at the back of my neck and wound it back into place. My heart sputtered hyperactively. “I suppose you could say yes to the first… if you don’t mind— it’s easier than any other explanation.”

Umm… easier than any other explanation, you say? How about: “We’re just friends. I know he looks a bit intimidating, but he’s actually pretty nice once you get to know him. Ask him about baseball sometime, he’ll talk for hours!” Friends give each other rides to school all the time. I guess what I don’t understand is why the relationship between Edward and Bella couldn’t possibly be platonic. I mean, because he’s pretty, you have to either f*** him or leave him? You couldn’t be happy with a non-romantic, non-sexual relationship? I don’t know. Perhaps they realize that, without a single normal conversation between them, sexual tension is all their relationship has to run on.

I bring this up because, as far as I can tell, there’s no reason for Edward to be romantically interested in Bella. I understand that he’s curious about her unreadable mind and he doesn’t want her to be killed (a trait that most decent human beings would share, at least before they spend 200 pages in her dull little head), but both of these desires could be met without any sexual baggage. Balance that with the fact that he has no idea what Bella would want out of a relationship, how interesting she would be to talk to, what she likes to do, and so on… I read these scenes and I wonder why Edward seems hellbent on contriving as much sexual tension as he possibly can?

Right, right, shameless wish fulfillment

And before I forget, this girl really needs to see a cardiologist. Although, it would be rather ironic if Edward’s protective presence ended up causing a heart attack.

But wait, the fun doesn’t stop there! Here’s the rest of that conversation.

“I suppose you could say yes to the first… if you don’t mind— it’s easier than any other explanation.”

“I don’t mind,” I said in a faint voice.

“And as for her other question… well, I’ll be listening to hear the answer to that one myself.” One side of his mouth pulled up into my favorite uneven smile. I couldn’t catch my breath soon enough to respond to that remark. He turned and walked away. (p. 201)

Ok, full stop. Now, let me talk about domestic abuse. I’ll admit I’m not an expert on the subject, but fortunately I have the internet at my disposal. And funnily enough, every site I’ve visited agrees that in abusive relationships, the abuser will often try to isolate the person they’re abusing, discourage outside relationships, and make them feel that they’re unable to trust others.

Let’s not beat around the bush. Edward’s telepathy is being used to isolate Bella. The message is clear: If she tells anybody anything remotely related to Edward, he will pick it from their thoughts and use it against her. There is not a soul she can confide in that will not unintentionally betray them to Edward. She has literally nobody to trust. But of course, the only thought that flutters though our idiot protagonist’s mind is “OMG teh sexy boy wants to know what I think! I be Hyperventrilating!!”

How very inconvenient his little talent could be—when it wasn’t saving my live (p 202)

If by inconvenient, you mean Orwellian, then yes.

EDWARD CULLEN’S DOMESTIC ABUSE CHECKLIST: Do you…. – isolate you girlfriend, and make her feel there is nobody she can trust?

Either way, we go on to talk to Jessica, who grills Bella about the previous evening. Bella spends most of the conversation evading, but Jessica is persistent, and eventually Bella tells all. In the meantime, we get to see Jessica act like a painfully stereotypical bimbo to make Bella look less shallow by comparison.

“Oh well. He is unbelievably gorgeous.” Jessica shrugged as if this excused his flaws. Which, in her book, it probably did.

This from the girl who felt flattered because she was being stalked? Oh, the irony, it hurts!

“There’s a lot more to him than that.”
“Really? Like What?”

Damn good question, Jessica, which Bella can’t answer. Instead, she mutters something vague and thinks to herself how wonderful Edward is for wanting to help people, despite his cool supernatural powers. Imagine, someone using superpowers to do good in the world! What a novel, and totally original concept.

SHIIIIIIIT, Sepehenie, looks like somebody beat you too it.

Anyway, they talk more. (God, how many times have I typed that in this series? It seems every third paragraph can be summed up with the words “they talk more”.)

“So, do you like him, then?” She wasn’t about to give up.

“Yes,” I said curtly.

“I mean, do you really like him?” she urged.

“Yes,” I said again, blushing. I hoped that detail wouldn’t register in her thoughts.

She’s had enough with the single syllable answers. “How much do you like him
p. 205

I suddenly feel smaller. My voice is cracking. My feet are too big for my legs, and I feel clumsy… They’re teasing me. No, I don’t like her! Not at all! I swear I hate girls. They have cooties and they’re nasty and they hit me. Why, what did I do to give the impression that I was in any way attracted to her?

Pant. Pant Oh god, this book is giving me flashbacks to the fifth grade. We’re just going to move on before I have to remember anything else from that awkward, awkward stage of my life.

So Bella spills all, saying how she’s totally fallen for him, and he can’t possible care for her as much as she cares for him. Jessica takes this in stride, and eventually Bella shifts the conversation to Mike, giving Jessica even more opportunities to appear ditzy and self-centered (“Let’s totally parse and analyze the vocal inflection of every word Mike said!”), proving (in case anyone doubted) that the point of every secondary character in this book is to be compared unfavorably with Edward if male, or Bella if female.

Finally free of Jessica, Bella meets Edward on the way to her lunch, and in her mind gushes some more about his appearance before they sit down to eat. Is it too late to start a cream count? Bah. They talk about boring things for a while. Can Edward eat human food? He can. Does Bella like him? She does, and Edward spends several pages bemoaning the fact, because he’s SOOO DANGERUS! Then why are you putting the moves on her, Eddy?

“Do you truly believe you care for me more than I care for you?” He murmured, leaning closer to me as he spoke, his golden eyes piercing.

I tried to remember how to exhale. I had to look away before it came back to me. “You’re doing it again,” I muttered.

His eyes opened with surprise. “What?”

“Dazzling me,” I admitted.

Playing innocent again, eh Edward? You tricky bastard. I bet the ladies just eat that up.

“It’s not your fault,” I sighed. “You can’t help it.”

It seems they do… Incidentally, Cream Count: Infinity +1.

As their conversation continues along its melodramatic way, Edward wonders why Bella believes he doesn’t care about her, and she wangsts a little about how ordinary she is in comparison to his godlike perfection (kill me now). Of course, Edward insists that she’s a bombshell, since he apparently knows every pitiful fantasy that every the other boy in the school has had about her (… squick). Then they argue some more about who cares about the other more.

Bq. “Don’t you see? That’s what proves me right. I care the most because, if I can’t do it”—he shook his head, seeming to struggle with the thought—“if leaving you is the right thing to do, then I’ll hurt myself to keep from hurting you, to keep you safe.” (p. 211)

If you understand what Edward is saying here, please tell me, because I can’t make head nor tail of this dialogue. Either way though, I think we can agree he’s laying it on pretty thick. And then the conversation shifts to how weak and vulnerable Bella is, and how her safety requires Edward’s constant attention. Then he teases her about her crippling clumsiness. It’s all really, really sweet.

EDWARD CULLEN’S DOMESTIC ABUSE CHECKLIST: Do you…. – isolate you girlfriend, making her feel like there is nobody she can trust? – belittle your girlfriend, making her feel helpless?

Anyway, as they plan their trip to Seattle, Edward brings up some fatalistic mumbo jumbo about how Bella’s “number has been called”, and for that reason he’s unwilling to leave her alone for any length of time. I get the distinct feeling that Stephenie Meyer is insisting, for those who doubted, that stuff will actually happen in this book. After all, Bella is fated to be in danger. It’s gotta come eventually, right? Right?

… Right?

And that’s about all we have for this chapter. Tune in next time as add even more items to EDWARD CULLEN’S DOMESTIC ABUSE CHECKLIST.

Comment [8]

Chapter 11: Complications

Well, with a title called complications, something has got to happen that shakes things up. Personally I’m excited. Some twists are surely about to appear. Bella begins by describing the rest of her day at school, where even the most boring moments are somehow burn with excitement because of our proximity to Edward Cullen…

Wait a minute, this isn’t interesting at all. Ok, fine. I’m sure the complications will arrive eventually, but in the mean time, let’s make fun of the boring stuff.

And then, as the room went black, [they are watching a video about biology] I was suddenly hyperaware that Edward was sitting less than an inch from me. I was stunned by the unexpected electricity that flowed through me, amazed that it was possible to be even more aware of him than I already was.

Ok, I’ll admit, this is fairly realistic. I mean, I can still remember the giddiness I felt in the first few hours after my first girlfriend and I made our relationship “official”. It seemed that, if we were in the same room, my eyes would always wander to her, and even if we weren’t touching, I could feel the warmth of her skin. It faded after a while, it was still pretty intense. Those of you who experienced a middle school romance probably know what I’m talking about. So I can forgive a little indulgent hyperbole. But remember, since this is Twilight, we instead get a LOT of indulgent hyperbole, as Meyer takes realistic feelings and cranks them up to 11. Result is kinda bit creepy.

A crazy impulse to reach over and stroke his perfect face just once in the darkness nearly overwhelmed me. (p 219)
bq. The overpowering craving to touch him also refused to fade, and I crushed my fists safely against my ribs until my fingers were aching with the effort. (p 219)
bq. His expression was torn, almost pained, and so fiercely beautiful that the ache to touch him flared as strong as before. (p 220)

Umm… I guess she must really want to touch him…

.
http://a5.vox.com/6a00cdf7ed27ab094f010980c4625d000b-500pi
.

Anyway, after Bella manages to make it through biology without touching Edward, she heads off to gym, literally feeling “lightheaded and wobbly” because Edward brushed her cheek with his fingers. In gym class, Bella meets our old pal Mike, who offers to pair up with her for what I assume were games of doubles tennis (they never says exactly what they were playing, but it involved, a “racket” and a “court”). During this game Bella goes past “Endearing Klutz” and becomes a danger to herself and others. Literally.

I somehow managed to hit myself in the head with a racket and clip Mike’s shoulder on the same swing.

Umm… I’m trying to parse the logistics of that maneuver, but it’s just not happening. Excuse me for a moment. I must call see if it is truly possible to hit both myself and a person standing next to me with one swing of a tennis racket.

…

…

…

SMACK

…

And now I’m in pain…

Anyway, after the tennis game, Mike asks about Edward, and Bella shuts him down, as usual.

“You and Edward, huh?” he asked, his tone rebellious. My previous feeling of affection disappeared.

“That’s none of your business, Mike,” I warned, internally cursing Jessica straight to the fiery pits of Hades.

First off, I don’t see how anything Bella just said “warned” Mike about anything (warn: verb- to give notice of a danger), except perhaps for her implausibly dangerous tennis playing. Really, Stephenie, if you must use a nonstandard dialogue tag, at least use it correctly. This is just amateur writing. And incidentally, Hades isn’t fiery. I thought this girl was supposed to have read all of the classics. But wait, there’s more!

… Really?

.

.

I don’t know what Mike did to deserve all of this abuse. Here he is, trying to be nice to this girl, expressing some not-entirely-unjustified concern for her wellbeing, and she bites his head off every time he says something. I’m simply baffled by Bella’s hypocrisy. I mean, Edward follows her around in a car, watches her while she sleeps, and invades the minds of other people, and she creams herself over his valor. But heaven forbid Mike ask her something.

Yawn… anyway, Edward shows up, he reads Mike’s mind when Bella clearly doesn’t want to talk about gym class. Bella’s pissed for a few short seconds, and then lets Edward drive her home. This is really freaking boring guys. Bla bla bla… Exposition about Edward’s hunting …. Bla bla bla… Bella is yet again rendered dizzy by Edward’s sexy. And then, Edward finally drops her off, promising that the next day he’ll be the one asking the questions. Shocking, isn’t it?

Anyhoo, the night passes, and the next day there’s a brief, but sweet moment where Charlie acts like a father concerned about his daughter’s happiness. Or, at least it would have been sweet if Bella hadn’t been acting like a self-centered prick.

“And you’re sure you can’t make it back in time for the dance?”

“I’m not going to the dance, Dad.” I glared

“Didn’t anyone ask you?” he asked, trying to hide his concern by focusing on rinsing the plate.

I sidestepped the minefield. “It’s a girl’s choice.”

“Oh,” he said as he dried the plate.

And that’s where their conversation ends. Come on, Bella, the guy’s concerned about your happiness (just like every other character in this book). Would it be so hard to just have a sincere moment and tell him that you’re not upset? My issue is that Stephenie Meyer clearly wanted Bella to seem selfless and mature, and indeed, there is a paragraph following this conversation where she explains how she sympathizes with her father and how hard it must be to have a teenage daughter. But this doesn’t change the fact that she just totally shut him down, and has generally been playing the part of the pitiful, self-important, misunderstood teenager for the past 220 pages. She says that she sympathizes with him, but she doesn’t act like it. Show, don’t tell damnit!

Bah. On the following morning, Edward is waiting for our heroine outside the house. At this point it seems that Meyer realized just how dull this part of her book is, and began randomly throwing in sentences like “His voice was silky,” hoping that the target audience would zone out and fantasize about him… or something. I don’t know. For the next three-ish pages, we hear about all of the questions that Edward asks Bella. You know, boring personal things like “What is your favorite type of flower?” This question-and-answer session lasts all through the day and into the evening, and of course Edward gives her his undivided attention and commits every word she says to memory, because that’s what the perfect boyfriend is supposed to do. All the while, the narration bounces between pseudo-charged dialogue and an obsessive analysis of the changes in Edward’s facial expression.

This continues all through the school day and after Edward takes Bella home, until Charlie arrives with Jacob and Billy (who, in case you forgot, is the chief of Jacob’s tribe) to put an end to this nonsense. Edward skids away in his Volvo as they drive up, with Jacob and Billy’s russet colored skin shining in the darkness (whenever a Native American appears in Stephenie Meyer’s books, his skin is inevitably compared to a russet). Well, since Jacob and his bunch hate Edward and his bunch, this has to be a set up for some drama, right?

His [Billy’s] eyes were wide, as if in shock or fear, his nostril’s flared. My smile faded.

Another complication, Edward had said. Billy still stared at me with intense, anxious eyes. I groaned internally. Had Billy Recognized Edward so easily? Could he really believe the impossible legends his son had scoffed at?

The answer was clear in Billy’s eyes. Yes, yes he could.

Shit’s gonna hit the fan, right? I mean, something interesting is bound to happen, right?

Right?

…

…

…

Chapter 12: Balancing

.

.

Ok, I mean, stuff does happen. Jacob and Bella greet each other and have a normal, friendly conversation (you know, about cars, family issues, mutual interest, the kinds of things that normal people talk about), which, after countless chapters of Edward ogling, comes as a welcome relief. But nothing… actually…. happens. Jacob hints at some animosity between Billy and the Cullens, but that’s about as tense as the situation gets. Billy and Charlie just watch a game on TV, and then he leaves.

” Come up for the next game,” Charlie encouraged.

“Sure, sure,” Billy said. “We’ll be here. Have a good night.” His eyes shifted to mine, and his smile disappeared. “You take care Bella,” he added seriously.

I can’t stand it. Is this really what all of the buildup at the end of the previous chapter was headed towards? I hate this book so much right now…

But onwards. Charlie and Bella have another moment, which I’m glad to say wasn’t as bad as the one in the last chapter, even though it’s painfully obvious that Dad is trying to set Bella up with Mike Newton. It’s better because Bella actually gives some encouragement to her father. Also, here’s something that I’ve noticed but I haven’t really commented on this before. You read Meyer’s dialogue, and you’ll notice she has an annoying habit of documenting the emotional state and/or facial expression of her characters after basically every line. Here’s a short section:

“Oh yea—you said you were friend with that Newton kid.” He perked up. “Nice family.” He mused for a minute. “Why didn’t you ask him to the dance this weekend?”

“Dad,” I groaned. “He’s kind of dating my friend Jessica. Besides, you know I can’t dance.”

“Oh yea,” he muttered. Then he smiled at me apologetically.

There are several reasons why this habit irritates me. First and foremost, it’s out of character for Charlie, who is supposed to be somewhat subdued and withdrawn. He shouldn’t be “perking up” whenever he thinks about Mike Newton (squick). In the abstract, this is also a bad habit because both the reader and the viewpoint character know immediately what motivates other characters and what they want to hear. There are no unknown dynamics to the conversation, making it less interesting, less tense. Plus it makes the viewpoint character look manipulative, since this narrative device by default puts her in control of the conversation. And also, it means that she never makes a mistake about the intentions or motivations of another person. In short, less is more.

The next morning, Edward picks Bella up, and we must endure more of her obligatory gushing.

He grinned his crooked smile at me, stopping my breath and my heart. I couldn’t imagine how an angel could be any more glorious. There was nothing about him that could be improved upon.”

Why? Why? I just don’t understand anymore. Why is this necessary? Like, did Meyer think that the readers would be likely to forget that Edward is glorious, divine, perfect, and what have you? Eventually I just get tired of being told how vastly, hugely, mind bogglingly pretty he is.

Either way, Edward continues to ask Bella questions about her history and personal life. After lunch, he announces that he will be leaving school early with Alice, and since this will leave Bella without a ride, one of the Cullens plans to break into Bella’s house, take the keys to her truck, and drive the hunk of metal back to the school parking lot for her.

I am not making that up. Bella even says that the keys are under a pile of clothes in the laundry room in one of her pockets. And yet she’s cool with the Cullens breaking into her house…

Oh, but it gets better. Edward and Alice are leaving school early to go hunting, because Edward wants to be nice and full when he and Bella are alone. You know, so he doesn’t eat her. Because he’s SOOO DANGERUS!!!

His face grew morose… and pleading. “You can always cancel, you know.”

I looked down, afraid of the persuasive power of his eyes. I refused to be convinced to fear him, no matter how real the danger might be. (p. 243)

Bella, you seem to be laboring under the delusion that your life is worth a few moments alone with Mr. Sparkles. Repeat after me: He’s not that pretty.

At lunch, they quickly sort out when and how they will meet each other on the coming Saturday. Then they talk about Edward’s family, who seem a lot more sensible than Edward about the whole “dating a sentient pile of heroin” idea. Edward again tells Bella that she’s special, she’s not like anyone he’s ever known, and that she doesn’t see herself very well, because normal people are all just sooo boring and predictable. Mary Sue, folks. You gotta love her.

I felt his eyes on my face, but I couldn’t look at him yet, afraid he might see the chagrin in my eyes.

Stephenie, I’m sorry to say that using the word “chagrin” in inappropriate places does not make your prose sophisticated.

Anyway, Rosalie shows up, glares at Bella, and hisses. Edward has an episode of guilt. We meet Alice briefly, and it seems that Bella gushes about her “exquisite, elfin face” and “brilliant obsidian eyes” almost as readily as she does about Edward. (Lesbian subtext? Any takers? Come on, anything to make this book more interesting.) They greet and exchange a few words. Then she and Edward leave, but not until he has reminded Bella how dangerous a small northwestern town can be, and how the slightest lapse in caution could result in death. Charming fellow, this Edward.

The rest of Bella’s day passes uneventfully (shocking, I know), except for a short conversation with Mike where he again pressures Bella to come to the dance and acts transparently jealous of Edward.

“Are you going to the dance with Edward?” he asked, suddenly sulky.

“No, I’m not going to the dance at all.”

“What are you doing, then” he asked, too interested.

Yes, Meyer, we get it. Mike’s into Bella. You don’t have to tell us that he gets sulky every time Edward’s name is mentioned. Though, to be fair, I’d also be pretty glum if my sole purpose in life was to make a Vampiric Adonis look charming by comparison.

.

.

To deflect suspicion from herself, Bella lies about her plans for Saturday (“Laundry, and then I have to study for the Trig test or I’m going to fail”), and again makes it clear that she is not going to the dance. Mike starts sulking again, but I’m done with Mike. After the school day ends, Bella finds an “elegantly scripted” note from Edward in her car (since the perfect boyfriend must have perfect handwriting), telling her to “Be safe”.

Once past this sentimental farce, Bella goes home. We have a couple of domestic scenes, most of them unimportant, though for someone who claims to be bad at lying, our protagonist certainly does a lot of it. Then she mulls over her decision to risk meeting Edward.

I had to keep reminding myself that I’d made my choice, and I wasn’t going back on it. I pulled his note out of my pocket much more often than necessary to absorb the two small words he’d written. He wants me to be safe, I told myself again and again. I would just hold on to the faith that, in the end, that desire would win out over the others. And what was my other choice—to cut him out of my life? Intolerable. Besides, since I’d come to Forks, it really seemed like my life was about him.

But a tiny voice inside of me worried, wondering if it would hurt very much… if it ended badly.

Here’s something for that tiny little voice to worry about: how would Charlie explain to Renee that her only daughter had been brutally murdered? It irks me that never once does our supposedly mature, selfless protagonist thing that her friends and family might want her alive and safe. I mean, does she really think nobody else cares about her? Does she really think her life before Edward really so void? Bella has friends, a father and mother who care, like most people. Nobody’s life is about any one person. There are always other people, other relationships, other aspects of her life, and healthy, mature relationships must balance them. It’s ironically fitting that in the chapter titled “Balancing” our protagonist chooses to disregard all of her other relationships for the sake of this Edward who she barely knows. Ironic and idiotic.

I wish I could blame Stephenie Meyer for this notion that exclusive, single-minded devotion is a virtuous, romantic ideal, but it’s far more deeply ingrained in our culture. Seems somewhere along the line, our collective unconscious forgot that Romeo and Juliette was not a romance, but a tragedy, because it blinded the characters to everything else in their lives. Their love was passionate, powerful, consuming, but it did not leave them happy (or alive, but that’s beside the point). In my experience, a strong love is patient, understanding, and trusting. It can make concessions when it needs to, and let the lovers manage their own problems, like a flower that takes to seed in the winter, so it can bloom again in spring. It can bend to meet the demands of living, without breaking or dying.

Er… yea. I suppose what I’m saying is that in fiction, these “tragic” romances get far too many happy endings. Authors and readers alike are bent on believing that, if two people just love each other hard enough, then all of their problems will disappear. The world simply doesn’t work that way, and if the author is honest, such a love will end in tragedy. If the author is not, it will end like Breaking Dawn. “Love conquers all” is a fine message, but it is so often presented as “Nothing matters but love” or “love precludes all else”.

But aside from being unrealistic and morally questionable, this is also quite plainly bad storytelling. In Pride and Prejudice, the romance between Darcy and Elizabeth was part of a larger drama surrounding the Bennett family, and before the lead couple could have their happy ending, they had a great deal of personal and interpersonal issues to sort out (Darcy’s prejudice, Elizabeth’s injured pride, Wickham’s elopement with Lydia, the objections of Darcy’s family, Bingly’s sisters, etc…). This made the book interesting. In Twilight, there are no conflicting interests, no family ties, no misconceptions, and no meaningful outside relationships for Bella to consider. The only conflict Meyer chose to explore was Bella’s fear of death and her lust love for Edward, and since her fear of death is practically non-existent, the conflict is also. It’s already been clear that Bella doesn’t give two shits about her own wellbeing, so why drag us through pages of Bella’s tedious and shallow contemplation of her own mortality. If you want to show that love conquers all, then for Aphrodite’s sake, give it something more formidable to conquer. Like her (alleged) love for her friends and family. Or at least write her fear of death more convincingly. It deserves more than a single apprehensive sentence about the pain.

We have not reached the end of the chapter quite yet, but this article is plenty long already, and I’m tired. The next chapter has the infamous meadow scene, so don’t miss it.

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Chapter 12: Balancing (continued)

When we last left off, Bella was pointlessly mulling over her mortality. She’s feeling a bit of insomnia, so she takes a little bit of cold medicine to help her sleep. I wouldn’t mention this, except for the fact that Bella make a huge freaking deal about it. “Gratuitous drug use,” she calls it.

I knew I was far too stressed to sleep, so I did something I’d never done before. I deliberately took unnecessary cold medicine—the kind that knocked me out for a good eight hours. Normally I wouldn’t condone this type of behavior for myself, but tomorrow would be complicated enough without me being loopy from sleep deprivation. (p 252)

My sources tell me that this sentiment is part of Mormon culture: no caffeine, no impure drugs, nothing that could pollute the body. I suppose that’s not a bad thing, but in the context of this novel, Bella’s reaction comes out of left field and is laughably over the top. She’s taking Tylenol, not Vicodin. I mean, I’m not a caffeine junkie, but I don’t have a huge guilt trip every time I drink a bottle of Mountain Dew.

But onward. Bella wakes up the next morning freakishly stressed, but once Edward shows up, all of her fear and apprehension just seems to dissolve away. Their clothes match (a tan sweater with jeans), which prompts even more gushing, mixed with self-deprecation.

I laughed with him, hiding a secret twinge of regret—why did he have to look like a runaway model when I couldn’t? (p. 253)

Ugh… Must every description of Edward say “this guy is out of your league”? Must we be reminded every thirty seconds how low and unworthy our protagonist is?

Moving on, we find a sequence that’s actually fairly tasteful, when Bella insists on taking the wheel, and I feel that I can forgive a small part of her general wimpy non-assertiveness. Unfortunately, this suggestion of feminine competence is muffled somewhat by Edward telling Bella to put on her seatbelt and reminding her incessantly of his superior reflexes, but she manages to assert herself nonetheless. Good job, protagonist.

Anyway, they make it to their destination safely, if slowly, since Bella drives like an old lady. Sheparks at the head of a hiking trail.

.“We’re hiking?” Thank goodness I’d worn my tennis shoes.

“Is that a problem?” He sounded as if he expected as much.

“No.” I tried to make the lie sound confident. But if He thought my truck was slow…”

“Don’t worry, it’s only five miles or so, and we’re in no hurry.”

Five miles. I didn’t answer, so that he wouldn’t hear my voice crack in panic. Five miles of treacherous roots and loose stones, trying to twist my ankles or otherwise incapacitate me. This was going to be humiliating.

Look, I’m not an enormous fan of hiking either, but this is ridiculous. It may be unpleasant, but the forest is not a malevolent force out to humiliate you. It bothers me that this incessant fear of being shamed and rejected seems to actually resonate with women. I just don’t understand the appeal of vicariously becoming someone so helpless, incompetent, and all-round idiotic.

“So you’re worried about the trouble it might cause me— if you didn’t come home?” His voice was still angry, and bitingly sarcastic.

I nodded.

…

twitch twitch

We’re moving on… They get out of the car to find the weather uncharacteristically warm. That seems innocent enough, right? In fact, it’s so warm, that Bella decides to take off her sweater. Nothing wrong with that. And then Edward does the same…

Oh dear god no… Please, I don’t want to, I mean it, we haven’t even gotten to the sparkling scene yet, there’s only so much purple prose a man can take before— no, please don’t make me, I swear I’ll be good and—

His white shirt was sleeveless and he wore it unbuttoned, so that the smooth white skin of his throat flowed uninterrupted over the marble contours of his chest, his perfect musculature no longer merely hinted at behind concealing clothes. He was too perfect, I realized with a piercing stab of despair. There was no way this godlike creature could be meant for me. (p. 256)

What the fuck… Ok, first off, who ever heard of a sleeveless button-up shirt? Second, why the hell is his skin flowing? Is he melting? (Please say yes).

And third… WHAT THE FUCK?! No, you know what, I refuse. I am done talking about this girl’s crippling insecurity. I’m not going to discuss the cultural trends that continue to wreck the self-worth of young girls, or how vulnerable a warped self-image leaves them to exploitation and abuse.

Oh, who am I kidding… this is bad stuff guys, and it only gets worse.

Edward notices Bella’s pained expression, but mistakes it for fear and offers to take her back home. She, of course, refuses, and after a little more pained conversation, they walk into the forest. Turns out our protagonists fear of the forest trail was largely unfounded, and she manages fine. I can’t say the same for her self esteem, unfortunately.

I tried to keep my eyes away from his perfection as much as possible, but I slipped often. Each time his beauty pierced me through with sadness (p. 257)

This guy could literally EAT YOU. And you’re agonizing over how pretty he is. I hate this books so much.

Anyway, as they walk, the day grows progressively sunnier. Edward announces that he can see a clearing in the distance. They approach slowly upon a picturesque meadow. Edward suddenly disappears. Bella finds him in a patch of shade on the far side of the meadow. She remembers the enigma of Edward and the sun. The tension builds (this sequence takes about a page). Edward looks reluctant. Bella beckons to him anyways. He takes a deep breath and steps into the sunlight…

Chapter 13: Confessions

… at first nothing happens. Then Bella notices the fine smoke rising from his bare arms and face. He is literally burning up in the sun. As his skin begins to flow (for real this time) down his face, he looks at our protagonist with love burning in his eyes, and declares that this is all for the best, that despite his dark nature, love gave him the strength to die a hero. Bella is stricken, but Edward’s last words are gentle, comforting, despite the pain of the sunlight.

Nah, just kidding.

He actually sparkles in the sunlight. And the actual description of said sparkling simply cannot be abridged.

Edward in the sunlight was shocking. I couldn’t get used to is, though I’d been staring at him all afternoon. His skin, white despite the faint flush from yesterday’s hunting trip, literally sparkled, like thousands of tiny diamonds were embedded in the surface. He lay perfectly still in the grass, his shirt open over his sculpted, incandescent chest, his scintillating arms bare. His glistening, pale lavender lids were shut, though of course he didn’t sleep. A perfect statue, carved in some unknown stone, smooth as marble, glittering like a crystal. (p. 260)

And now, my friends, there is only one thing to do:

I mean, for the love of masculinity, just when I thought that Edward couldn’t get any less heterosexual. I’m sorry to all of the gay men out there who may be offended by this comparison, but if Edward was any further in the closet, this book would be part of the Chronicles of Narnia. I mean, he’s wearing body glitter and pale lavender eye shadow. I don’t know why I’m needed. It practically makes fun of itself.

But gay jokes aside, I feel obligated to remind everyone that thesaurus rape is no laughing matter. And this, this goes beyond thesaurus rape. There are ways a talented writer can craft an image in the reader’s imagination and convey its beauty. Finding four synonyms for the word “sparkle” (incandescent, scintillating, glistening, and glittering) is probably the clumsiest, laziest, most armature method imaginable. It’s like Meyer’s entire conception of poetry was to slap a polysyllabic adjective before every noun associated with Edward’s body. Oh, and a ham-handed metaphor comparing Edward to (you guessed it) a statue.

May I remind the reader that our author was allegedly an English Major?

After a bout of staring and drooling, Bella approaches her statuesque lover, and they engage in some chaste touching, which mostly consists of her stroking his arms. Uh, yea. This is actually one of the most vividly written sections of the book. It isn’t bad per se, at least in that it’s not repulsive or smutty. And, in all fairness, even a chaste touch can be a very intimate gesture, erotic even, in the right frame of mind. Since so much of romantic writing is a matter of personal taste, I’m going to reserve judgment here.

After a while, Bella and Edward begin to exchange more tortured, romantic dialogue, filled with quotes like “I was wishing that I could believe that you were real” and “I don’t want you to be afraid.” Then Bella, mesmerized by Edward’s, uh… smell, leans in for a kiss.

As had just that once before, I smelled his cool breath on my face. Sweet, delicious, the scent made my mouth water. It was unlike anything else. Instinctively, unthinkingly, I leaned closer, inhaling.

Even Weird Al thinks this is weird.

And then this shit goes down as Edward (understandably) freaks out, jumps away, and begins to rant about how he’s SOOO DANGERUS!!!

“I’m the world’s best predator, aren’t I? Everything about me invites you in — my voice, my face, even my smell. As if I need any of that!”

In a fit of masculine rage, our sparkley idol begins to tear up the forest to show how strong and fast he is. And, as ever, our pitifully human protagonist is smitten.

I’d never seen him so completely freed of that carefully cultivated facade. He’d never been less human… or more beautiful. Face ashen, eyes wide, I sat like a bird locked in the eyes of a snake.

God, why is this girl so helpless? Yes, ok, I get it, Edward’s a supernatural being, and it’s unreasonable to expect Bella to match him physically. But I’m not talking about physical inferiority. I’m talking about emotional helplessness, and Bella’s apparent inability to resist Edward, even in her thoughts. She is so mired in his superficial beauty that, while he is throwing around trees and threatening her life, she can only think about how perfect and beautiful he is. This is not how healthy relationships work. I mean, the guy could do anything. If he actually bit her, her last thoughts would probably concern the quality of his dentistry. She might as well be marching through a prison in a Japanese school girl’s uniform singing “Please use me!” to the tune of My Heart Will Go On.

Of course, a large part of the reason why Edward is seen at the ideal man is that he does not take advantage of the girl who throws herself so completely and unconditionally into his power. After his outburst he apologizes and promises, nay, swears not to hurt her. And then, in one of the most truly awkward transitions I’ve ever read, they go back to their shallow, flippant conversation.

“I’m not thirsty today, honestly.” He winked.

At that I had to laugh, though the sound was shaky and breathless.

“Are you all right?” he asked tenderly, reaching out to slowly, carefully, to place his marble hand back in mine.

I looked at his smooth, cold hand, and then at his eyes. They were soft, repentant. I looked back at his hand, and then deliberately returned to tracing the lines in his hand with my fingertip. I looked up and smiled timidly. (p. 265)

THIS MAN WAS JUST THREATENING YOUR LIFE… oh, screw it.

They go back to their conversation, and Bella realizes that Edward has never been with anybody romantically before…. Implausible, but whatever. We already knew he was emotionally repressed. Anyway, Edward again tries to convince Bella to leave, and again she insists on staying. He tells her how much he craves her company, but reminds her that he’s MOOR DANGERUS!!! to her than to anyone else.

Why is that, you ask? Well, as it turns out, Bella is Edward’s brand of heroin. Her blood has the precise balance of hemoglobin, plasma, fibrinogen, and leucocytes to get Edward hot and hungry. She smells so good that each time he’d seen her, from the first day she walked into biology, he had been fighting the urge to devour her.

Edward goes on to describe in detail his past battles with hunger.

“In that one hour, I thought of a hundred different ways to lure you from the room with me, to get you alone. And I fought the each back, thinking of my family, what I could do to them. I had to run out, to get away before I could speak the words that would make you follow…

He looked up then at my staggered expression as I tried to absorb his bitter memories. His golden eyes scorched from under his lashes, hypnotic and deadly.

“You would have come,” he promised.

I tried to speak calmly. “Without a doubt.” (p. 270)

The sound you just heard was my head repeatedly hitting my keyboard.

But regardless, the way Edward’s saga goes, the day after Bella first arrived at school, he ran away to Alaska to avoid ruining his family. A few days later he returned, more confident in his ability to resist.

“It was unquestionably a complication that I couldn’t simply read your thoughts to know what your reaction was to me. I wasn’t used to having to go to such circuitous measures, listening to your words in Jessica’s mind… her mind isn’t very original, and it was annoying to have to stoop to that. (p. 271)

This is my death glare, you arrogant snot.

Anyway, as the weeks went by, Edward became more and more interested in Bella’s unreadable thoughts. He saved her from the car accident, exposing to her his supernatural powers. He was shocked, shocked that Bella kept the secret (though nobody would have believed her if she had told them). Bla bla bla… “I tried to stay away from you, but I couldn’t”… Bla bla bla… Bella never realized how frequently her life had been in danger.

And then Edward confesses his ultimate devotion.

He lifted his glorious, agonized eyes to mine. “You are the most important thing to me now. The most important thing to me ever.” (p. 273)

So our author expects us to believe that Bella is the only remotely interesting person Edward has met in 100 years, and after a few months of knowing her he has declared her the center of his existence, this girl who has probably one of the dullest mind imaginable… Do I even need to go on?

Bella answers with an equally absurd declaration.

“You already know how I feel of course,” I finally said. “I’m here… which, roughly translated, means I would rather die than stay away from you.” (p. 274)

Excuse me, I need to make a call…

Hello…?

Hey, Death, it’s Artim—

Hello? Who is this…?

Artimaeus. Look, I gotta call in a favor. There’s this girl, see, who just has it comin—

I’m sorry, this is my voicemail. Bet you thought I actually answered your call. Ha. If you still want to reach me, leave your name and message at the sound of the beep…

Damnit, I am so not in the mood for this bullshi—

Beep.

….

Click

That asshole… Anyway,

As the scene continues there’s more talk between our lovers about masochistic lions and stupid lambs falling in love. Then they go back to touching, and discuss how much physical contact they can indulge in without Edward introducing Bella to Death. Edward decides to have an intense desensitization session of sorts, which ultimately results in about three paragraphs of Bella slowly creaming herself as Edward nuzzles her collarbone.

And then, too soon, he released me.

“It won’t be so hard again,” he said with satisfaction. (p. 276)

Pfftahahahahahaha. Just goes to show there’s nothing a little unintentional innuendo won’t make interesting.

But in all fairness, the dialogue in this section is not badly written, once you look past the subject matter. I wouldn’t call it believable, at least not if you give it the barest level of thought, but it sounds natural and reads very easily, which can cover a lot of bullshit. Plus, I won’t lie, there is something sweet about the tender advances of first love.

“I don’t know how to be close to you,” he admitted. “I don’t know if I can.”

I leaned forward slowly, cautioning him with my eyes. I placed my cheek against his stone chest. I could hear his breath, and nothing else. “This is enough,” I sighed, closing my eyes.

In a very human gesture, he put his arms around me and pressed his face against my hair.

“You’re better at this than you give yourself credit for,” I noted.

Come on. Take this out of context and tell me it isn’t adorable (okay, aside from the part about his “stone chest”; that’s just weird). Unfortunately, every few paragraphs, also there’s a passage like this one,

He held my hands between his. They felt so feeble in his iron strength. (p. 278)

to remind us that we are still reading the antithesis to modern feminism.

Anyway, back to the story. The day is growing late, and it’s time for Bella to go back home. So Edward slings Bella onto his back and does his best imitation of Sonic the Hedgehog. The experience leaves Bella woozy and a little nauseous. Edward is, as usual, insufferably smug about his superpowers. They take a moment for Bella to recover. Then Edward kisses her. And then, shit really goes down.

And then his cold, marble lips pressed very softly against mine.

What neither of us was prepared for was my response.

Blood boiled under my skin, burned in my lips. My breath came in a wild gasp. My fingers knotted in his hair, clutching him to me. My lips parted as I breathed in his heady scent.

Immediately I felt him turn to unresponsive stone beneath my lips. His hands gently, but with irresistible force, pushed my face back. I opened my eyes and saw his guarded expression.

Good god, where to begin…

Ok, first let me say that I’m not a big fan of the perspective that, in matters of love, men are predators and women prey. If you ask me, it creates a culture where desire is shameful and dehumanizing for women, and men are emasculated for seeking anything more than raw physical pleasure. And although this perspective come part and parcel with vampire mythology, most modern vampire stories subvert it by having sympathetic vampires, or by portraying vampirism itself as an intimate experience (for the victim). Twilight plays it depressingly straight.

But that’s besides the point. What pisses me off is that, in a world where vampires (and, by metaphorical extention, men in general) are clearly established as predators, Bella’s wild lust does not only show that she lacks self-control, but that she is incapable of taking the barest responsibility for her own safety. Even in matters of love, it is Edward who must intervene, Edward who must be strong, Edward who must protect Bella from her own wild lust. She relies on Edward, quite literally, for every aspect of her physical and emotional security. This is not what a strong, independent protagonist looks like, and anyone who thinks otherwise is officially too dumb to live.

Unfortunately, Death has gotten in the habit of not answering calls.

Anyway, Bella apologizes for her weakness, Edward gloats about his strength, and I die a little on the inside.

He laughed aloud. “I’m stronger than I thought. It’s nice to know.”

“I wish I could say the same. I’m sorry.”

“You are only human after all.”

“Thanks so much,” I said, my voice acerbic. (p.283)

“You are only a woman after all.”

Since Bella is still disoriented from riding Edward (the joke had to be made), he offers to drive her home. At first, it looks like Bella might insist on driving herself, though I doubt it would make up for the past thirty pages of barefaced misogyny. Unfortunately, we don’t even get that much.

“Bella, I’ve already expended a great deal of personal effort at this point to keep you alive. I’m not about to let you behind the wheel of a vehicle when you can’t even walk straight. Besides, friends don’t let friends drive drunk,” he quoted with a chuckle. I could smell the unbearably sweet fragrance coming off his chest.

“Drunk?” I objected.

“You’re intoxicated by my presence.” He was grinning that playful smirk again.

“I can’t argue with that,” I sighed. There was no way around it; I couldn’t resist him in anything. (p. 284)

…

…

…

twitch twitch

And that, my friends, is the end of the chapter. Thank you for enduring this with me. Till next time, this is Artimaeus, signing out.

Comment [16]

Wow, that last chapter was pretty intense, amiright? I was getting pretty caught up in dissing the disgusting; so caught up, in fact, that I forgot to mention something important. Twilight has 24 chapters, meaning that, as of the last article, we’re officially half way through. Meaning that there’s about as much wankery in front of us as there is behind us. Which, now that I mention it, is actually kinda daunting. And let me tell you guys, if you thought the first 12 chapters were bad, those to come will make Death seem like a charming, amiable fellow. But I’m resolved to see it through to the bitter, sparkly end.

So here’s to the halfway milestone.

Cheers!

Chapter 14: Mind Over Matter

This chapter begins much as the last chapter ended (and began, and continued through the middle), with Bella awestruck by Edward’s perfection. In this case, the particulars revolve around Edward’s driving ability, leaving us to wonder whether there’s any area where this man doesn’t make us all look horribly incompetent.

Like so many things, it seemed to be effortless to him. He barely looked at the road, yet the tires never deviated as much as a centimeter from the center of the lane. (p. 286)

Nope, seems he’s pretty much omni-competent. It makes you wonder why he’s into a girl who, by her own admission, can’t do anything. But that’s part of the magic, isn’t it? I mean, if our protagonist had a shred of charm, competence, or self-esteem, it wouldn’t be so bloody remarkable that she landed a magical boyfriend.

But anyway, Edward is listening to the radio, and it seems like they are about to have an actual normal conversation until Edward mentions how Fifties music was better than Sixties or Seventies music, and Bella asks him how old he is.

“Does it matter much?”

Uh… yea, it kinda does.

“No, but I still wonder…” I grimaced. “There’s nothing like an unsolved mystery to keep you up at night. (page 287)

Facepalm. If you think an unsolved mystery is bad, try statutory rape.

After a little more encouragement and a description of his skin in the light of the setting sun, he confesses that he was born in 1901, and transformed into a vampire in 1918. Of course, Bella is physically incapable of thinking anything bad about Edward, so the revelation that she is dating a 109-year-old man does not have quite the appropriate impact. I, therefore, will supply a more fitting response.

Edward goes on to tell the story of how he was transformed into a vampire. In short: his parents had died of the Spanish influenza, and he was about to follow them. Vampire Carlisle was in town and was feeling lonely, so he bit Edward and saved his life. Homoerotic subtext aside, Edward awoke after a few days of agonizing pain as a sparkly vampire, the first addition to Carlisle’s family. Esme joined the sparkle bunch shortly thereafter.

Now, under normal circumstances I’d complain about a narrative-halting info-dump, but since Twilight doesn’t have much of a narrative to halt, and the Cullen family history is both more interesting and less offensive and than Bella and Edward’s relationship, I’ll let the author slide. Once Edward is done talking about Esme, Bella asks about Emmett and Rosalie. It turns out that Rosalie was meant to be Edward’s life partner, but Edward would have none of her. She eventually found Emmett dying and transformed him. Now the two are close as can be, get married every time they move to a new town, and (if you consider the leaked chapters of Midnight Sun cannon) frequently have wild, home-breaking sex. Alice and Jasper were vampires before they joined the Cullen Crew. They took up together, and then were guided to the Cullens by Alice’s prophetic visions (her vampire power).

Bla bla bla… Non-vegetarian vampires are usually nomadic… bla bla bla… We usually stay in the north, and only come out at night (perhaps somebody should tell the author that “north” does not necessarily mean “overcast”)… bla bla bla… Nobody knows where Alice came from, who transformed her into a vampire, or who she was as a human…

Near the end of this , they arrive at Bella’s house. Bella hasn’t eaten all day, so she’s really freaking hungry.

“I’m sorry, I’m keeping you from dinner.”

“I’m fine, really.”

“I’ve never spent much time around anyone who eats food. I forget.”

“I want to stay with you.” It was easier to say in the darkness knowing as I spoke how my voice would betray me, my hopeless addiction to him. (p. 292)

Good god, here we go again… And I don’t think that last sentence makes sense. It’s easier to say because you know that your voice will betray your addiction? I don’t get it. It seems like Meyer was looking for an excuse to say that Bella was addicted to Edward, which… I don’t know…

Edward decides to stay for dinner, and uses his inhuman speed to hold the car door open for Bella. He then goes ahead and opens the door to the house— a door which was supposed to be locked.

“The door was unlocked?”

“No, I used the key from under the eave.”

I stepped inside, flicked on the porch light, and turned to look at him with eyebrows raised. I was sure I’d never used that key in front of him.

“I was curious about you.”

“You spied on me?” But somehow I couldn’t infuse my voice with the propper outrage. I was flattered.

He was unrepentant. “What else is there to do at night?” (p. 292)

…

STAND BACK, IT’S GONNA BLOW!

Ok, seriously, no. This is not how you are supposed to react when your boyfriend admits that he HAS YOUR GORRAM HOUSE STAKED OUT. I repeat, and I’ll repeat again, stalking is not romantic. I don’t care how pretty he is. It’s just that, yet again, our suicidally shallow protagonist is too befuddled by superficial beauty to object when Edward violates her personal rights. I don’t care how in love two people are; they always have a right to privacy. Ah, hell with it.

• isolate you girlfriend, making her feel like there is nobody she can trust?
• belittle your girlfriend, making her feel helpless?
• spy on your girlfriend, denying her any form of privacy?

Oh, but it gets worse.

“How often?” I asked casually.

“Hmmm?” He sounded as if I had pulled him from another train of thought.

I still didn’t turn around. “How often did you come here?”

“I come here almost every night.”

I whirled, stunned. “Why?”

“You’re interesting when you sleep.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “You talk.”(p. 293)

At least at this point, Bella has the good sense to be upset. And since she’s a strong, willful young woman, surely she’ll put her foot down, make her boyfriend realize the error of his ways, and establish some personal boundaries. And then she’ll become a wizard, slay Lord Voldemort, and be elected Minister of Magic.

His expression shifted instantly to chagrin [Pftahahaha, I don’t think there’s a proper way to use this word] “Are you very angry with me?”

“That depends!” I felt and sounded like I’d had the breath knocked out of me.

No it doesn’t!

“On?” he urged.

“What you heard!” I wailed.

No! No no no no. What he heard is besides the point. The issue is that he stalks you, and refuses to give you any privacy. Of course Edward does his level best to make listening to a teenage girl sleeptalk every night not seem like justification for a restraining order (is stalking a felony?).

Instantly, silently, he was at my side, taking my hands carefully in his. “Don’t be upset!” he pleaded. He dropped his face to the level of my eyes, holding my gaze. I was embarassed. I tried to look away.

“You miss your mother,” he whispered. “You worry about her. And when it rains, the sound makes you restless. You used to talk about home a lot, but it’s less often now. Once you said, ‘It’s too green‘. He laughed softly, hoping, I could see, not to offend me further. (p. 294)

Aww… Isn’t that sweet? He just cared about her. He only wanted to know who she was, whether she was happy, andTHIS IS BULLSHIT! Is this honestly what passes for romance today? I don’t care what his intentions were, spying is not ok, and if Edward had any respect for Bella or her personal integrity, he wouldn’t do it (never mind the fact that, at the time, he was seriously considering eating her).

Of course, it comes out that Bella would also frequently moan Edward’s name in her sleep, to which our sparkly stalker replies, his eyes awash with melodramatic conviction,

“Don’t be self-conscious,” he whispered in my ear. “If I could dream at all, it would be about you. I’m not ashamed of it.” (p. 294)

That’s. Not. The. Motherfucking. Issue. You. Creep.

…

That’s it. I’m going for two.

Ok, look, there’s nothing wrong with a little wish fulfillment. I’ve got no problem with a girl imagining herself loved by a doting, ridiculously pretty boyfriend (or, for that matter, a guy imagining himself as sword-slinging badass). If they enjoy it, I’m not one to argue. But I draw a line when wish fulfillment begins to romanticize abusive behavior. And that’s precisely what Twilight is doing. It idolizes a relationship where the girl is so desperate for the guy’s attention that she’ll accept borderline abuse as “_flattering_”. Of course, In Stephenie Meyer’s fantasy, there are no truly harmful consequences because Edward is cast as a paragon of chaste virtue. But in real life, this relationship dynamic often allows bullying, emotional manipulation, and even sexual assault to be tolerated because the girl’s self-worth is entirely dependent on her guy paying attention to her. In her mind, even mild-to-severe abuse is preferable to being discarded or ignored.

Bella practically embodies this self-effacing dependency. Every time she describes Edward’s godlike beauty, the message is clear, whether implied or explicitly stated, that she is unworthy, worthless, because she isn’t freakishly pretty. And so, Edward is just that pretty (and therefore superior), he can do whatever he wants. Even after being called out (kinda) on his stalking, he is unrepentant, and Bella will never lift a finger because she doesn’t consider herself worthy of his attention in the first place. As far as she is concerned, she doesn’t even have the right to seriously protest.

What’s sad is that so many women connect with this… I am losing faith in humanity.

Thankfully, this whole train of thought is left hanging when Charlie arrives at the house. Edward disappears, leaving Bella to eat dinner with her father. Charlie notices how high-strung his daughter looks, and asks about the dance (you know, the girl’s choice dance that every guy in school asked her to, and that the trip to Seattle was devised to help her avoid). Bella says that she isn’t going, but Charlie is still a little suspicious, and asks about her about boys.

“None of the boys in town your type, eh?” He was suspicious, but trying to play it cool.

How incredibly perceptive of you, Bella.

“No, none of the boys have caught my eye yet.” I was careful not to over-emphasize the word boys in my quest to be truthful to Charlie.

“I thought that maybe Mike Newton… you said he was friendly.”

“He’s just a friend, Dad” (p. 296)

What the hell… is he Mike Newton’s agent? And has Bella ever been truthful to Charlie… ever? Ah well, it doesn’t matter. Shortly thereafter, the conversation ends and Bella goes to bed early, worried that Charlie will check on her in the middle of the night to be sure that she’s not sneaking out.

Once in her room, she flings open her window to let Edward in. Edward, as it turns out, was already inside (not like that, you perv) and appears on her bed, wearing a smug smile for having startled her.

“I’m sorry.” He pressed his lips together, trying to hide his ammusement.

“Just give me a moment to restart my heart.”

He sat up slowly, so as not to startle me again. Then he leaned forward and reached out with his long arms to pick me up, gripping the tops of my arms like I was a toddler. He sat me on the bed beside him. (p. 297)

A real class act, this Edward. And what is it with this girl and heart attacks? Death has been slacking off…

The coming scene is long, involved, and mostly talking. I’m going to be a little hesitant calling out instances of fluffy, romantic conversation because, frankly, if you took the trouble to record any of the conversations my girlfriend and I have in private, we’d probably sound pretty ridiculous also. That’s why we have them in private. My point is, everyone’s experience in this area is different, and one person’s “shamefully over the top” may be another person’s “completely normal”. So I’m going to be a bit reserved in what I comment on.

That being said, it’s pretty shamefully over the top, considering that they’ve been going out for… a week, maybe? And have only known each other for a few months longer.

Oh, and Bella takes a page-long break to shower, brush her teeth, and put on comfortable clothes. But that’s not important.

Once she returns, they begin whispering sweet nothings and there’s more chaste touching, which mostly involves Bella sitting stock still, heart aflutter, while Edward brings his lips to the hollow beneath her ear and traces her collarbone with his fingers and… ok, I think this is pushing “chaste” a little far. Which is odd, considering how very prudish he was about physical contact that afternoon. Indeed, Bella wonders why physical intimacy is suddenly so effortless for him.

I felt the tremor of his breath on the back of his neck as he laughed. “Mind over matter.” (p. 300)

Uh… ok? I mean, is that all? I think a little more explanation is in order.

“It’s not easy,” he sighed. “But this afternoon I was still… undecided. I am sorry about that, it was unforgivable for me to behave so.”

“Not unforgiveable,” I disagreed.

“Thank you.” He smiled. “You see,” he continue, looking down, “I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough…” He picked up one of my hands and pressed it lightly to his face. “And while there was still a possibility that I might be… overcome”— he breathed in the scent at my writst— “I was… sucsptible. Until I decided that I was strong enough, that there was no possibility that I would… that I ever could…”

I’d never seen him struggle so hard for words. It was so… human. (p. 301)

Ugh, what an ugly block of text. It’s a criminal overuse of ellipses, for one thing. And why exactly is he sniffing her wrists while he says this? I mean, it just seems like a random thing to do… Oh, hell with it. The point isn’t to make sense; it’s to make the target demographic squee.

Of course, after this he reminds us in a pained whisper that it’s really not easy for him to be there and that Bella is still in danger. But really, if anybody still takes this guy seriously…

There are a few more paragraphs of sweet nothings, with lines like “Isn’t it supposed to be like this? The glory of first love and all that.” And then, Edward talks about the feeling of jealousy, brought on by his newfound love. Stand back, my friends, this ain’t gonna be pretty.

He grimaced. “Do you remember the day Mike asked you to the dance?”

I nodded, though I remembered that day for a different reason. “The day you started talking to me again.”

“I was surprised by the flare of resentment, almost fury, that I felt— I didn’t— I didn’t recognize what it was at first. I was even more aggravated than usual that I I couldn’t know what your were thinking, why you refused him. Was it for your friend’s sake? Was there someone else? I knew I had no right to care either way. I tried not to care. (p. 303)

Ok, so why do you care so much? I mean, even if we accept that this girl with the unreadable mind is so damn speshul, it was just a high school dance. Guys get turned down all the time, and girls often go to with platonic friends. Edward’s probably seen a couple hundred of them. It’s not like the boys were proposing marriage. I mean, just seems like he’s overreacting a little. He doen’t need to start stalking her or anything…

“That was the first night I came here. (p. 303)”

Anyway, as it turns out, that before he had been torturing himself trying to figure out how Bella felt about him, until he heard her moan his name in her sleep. Then, it was clear that he could ignore her no longer.

This is not how relationships are supposed to work… We were talking about jealousy, weren’t we?

“But jealousy… it’s a strange thing. So much more powerful than I would have thought. And irrational! Just now, when Charlie asked you about that vile Mike Newton… (p. 304)”

Wait… what?

Mike Newton is vile? Of all the arrogant, insufferable… just… Were the hell did that come from? I don’t understand. I mean, Mike might be a little dim in the “picking up hints“ department, but he’s never been mean to Bella or tried to take advantage of her. And now he’s being called “vile” by a cannibalistic, 109-year-old stalker of teenage girls?

I don’t even have a funny picture for this. I mean, it this supposed to be romantic? Because all I can see is Edward is being, a conceited, judgmental ass.

They go on to talk about how Bella is jealous of Rosalie’s divine beauty (since she was initially intended to be Edward’s companion). In response Edward assures our protagonist that she is the only girl that he could ever dream of being with.

“Of course Rosalie is beautiful in her own way, but even if she wasn’t like a sister to me, even if Emmett didn’t belong with her, she could never have one tenth, no, one hundreth of the attraction you hold for me.” He was serious now, thoughtful. “For almost ninety years I’ve walked among my kind, and yours… all the time thinking I was complete in myself, not realizing what I was seeking. And not finding it, because you weren’t alive yet.”

See, I don’t care who you are or what your experience is, this is over the top. It’s the kind of thing that just can’t be said honestly, because you have to believe that Edward has been alive for ninety years without experiencing emotions that most twelve-year-olds have stumbled upon. And then you have to believe that he found stronger emotions than most people ever experience in our pitiful excuse for a protagonist.

Though I must give credit where it is due. Yes, Meyer wrote a Mary Sue who receives impossible levels of devotion from somebody who, even in a universe contrived to pair him with the protagonist, should really know better. And though it is bullshit beyond any doubt, Meyer has made her bullshit remarkably easy to swallow. Believe me, this is no trivial accomplishment.

I think it works because Meyer, at some fundamental level, understood what her audience cared about. At the beginning, Edward was a mystery. He was unusually pretty, part of an aloof group of siblings who miss school, and unlike every other boy in the school, he seemed to hate Bella. Gradually, as we learn about him, his actions take on new significance, but are never fully explained until the big revelation. Meyer simply recognized that the biggest, most meaningful revelation was not that Edward is a vampire, that he’s a telepath, or anything like this. These are the first secrets to be disclosed. In this one case, the author was intelligent enough to keep Bella ignorant of Edward’s most important secret long enough to give it credibility. So when Edward reveals his True Love ™, we believe him. We have no choice. Meyer made Edward’s feelings the centerpiece of the puzzle that the reader has been putting together for the past 300 pages. By this point we have swallowed vampirism, telepathy, vegetarianism, sparklyness, and a whole host of other fantastic explanations for Edward’s behavior. True Love ™ seems downright plausible.

Meyer understood what her audience truly cared about, and revealed it in a way that gave it the greatest possible impact. I hope that I’m able to do the same in my future writing…

….

How are you holding up, Arty?

What? Oh, it’s you. Don’t worry, I’m fine.

Are you sure? That grimace looks unhealthy.

No. I’m ok.

Your face has turned red.

I’ll manage.

And I don’t think I’ve seen a blood-vessel throb like that since I visited Hitler’s bunker.

Just give me a minute.

It must have been painful to say all of that.

Yes, but… I think I’ve got it under control. Just—

I could give you an aneurism. Your artery walls are already looking a little shopworn. One pop, and all of your problems would be over. It would be easy, painless, peaceful…

… Really?

Ha Ha Ha. No. I’m just screwing with you. You’re not scheduled for a while yet.

Then, if you don’t mind my asking, WHAT THE F&$@ ARE YOU DOING HERE!?

Your reactions. They amuse me.

You know what, I’m just going to leave it. Anyway, back to the (broadly defined) story.

Edward and Bella’s confession session is briefly interrupted by Charlie, who checks to see if she is in her room and asleep. Fortunately, Edward hears his approach and hides until he leaves. And then they go back to nuzzling, stroking, sniffing, and humming lullabies.

He stroked my wet hair softly, from the top of my heat to my waist. “You only have to risk your life every second you spend with me, that’s surely not much. You only have to turn your back on nature, on humanity… what’s that worth?”

“Very little— I don’t feel deprived of anything.” (p. 305)

That’s because you’re a sociopath, Bella. Can you say “sociopath”?

I could feel his cool breath on my neck, feel his nose sliding along my jaw, inhaling.

“I thought you were desensitized.”

“Just because I’m resisting the wine doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the bouquet,” he whispered. “You have a very floral smell, like lavender… or freesia,” he noted. “It’s mouthwatering.” (p. 306)

This line baffles me. I, just, I don’t know. I don’t see how anybody could say this with a straight face. Try it. Be sure to include a suitably dramatic pause between “lavener… or freesia”, murmur in a low, sexy voice, “It’s mouthwatering”, and finish with your most sensual glower.

And remember that Robert Pattinson’s job is to do this without choking on his own narm.

“Should I sing you to sleep?”

“Right,” I laughed. “Like I could sleep with you here!”

“You do it all the time,” he reminded me.

“But I didn’t know you were here,” I replied icily. (p. 306)

“In case you forgot, yes, I have in fact been sneaking into your bedroom every night for the past few weeks.”

Why isn’t somebody complaining about this? Why does the conversation just go on like he hadn’t admitted to a criminal offence?

Anyway, Bella doesn’t want to go to sleep, so she asks Edward a few more quetions. First, she asks why Edward doesn’t eat people, or, in her words, why he “work[s] so hard to resist what you… are“.

“You see, just because we’ve been… dealt a certain hand… it doesn’t mean that we can’t chose to rise above— to conquer the destiny that none of us wanted. To try to retain whatever essential humanity we can.”

I lay unmoving, locked in awed silence. (p. 307)

I suppose this is Meyer’s attempt to give Bella a reason to like Edward that’s not blatantly superficial. I’ll grant you, it’s better than comparing him to a statue for the sixty-ninth time. But really, once you look past Edward’s grandiose equivocation about conquering destiny, Bella’s feelings essentially boil down to: “Oh my god, you find murder abhorrent? So do I!”

The second question Bella asks is about the origin of vampire powers. If you’ve heard anything about this series, then you probably know already, but Edward explains that Vampires bring into their next life the strongest traits from their human life.

“I must have been very sensitive to the thoughts of those around me. And [we think] that Alice had some precognition, wherever she was.”

“What did he [Carlisle] bring into the next life, and the others?”

“Carlisle brought his compassion. Esme brought her ability to love passionately. Emmett brought his strength, Rosalie her… tenacity. Or you could call it pigheadedness,” he chuckled. Jasper is very interesting. He was quite charismatic in his first life, able to influence those around him to see things his way. Now he is able to manipulate the emotions of those around him[…] It’s a subtle gift. (p. 308)

Uh, wow. I guess we know who won the superpower lottery (hint: they all have penises). Though if Esme’s ability to “love passionately” means what I think it means, then Carlisle is a very lucky man. Wink wink. Nudge nudge. I’ll say no more.

The next question Bella asks concerns the origin of vampires, to which Edward responds with yet another convoluted answer about— get this— creation and evolution.

“Well, where did you come from? Evolution? Creation? Couldn’t we have evolved in the same way as other species, predator and prey? Or, if you don’t believe that all this world could have just happened on its own, which is hard for me to accept myself, is it so hard to believe that the same force that created the delicate angelfish with the shark, the baby seal and the killer whale, could create both of our kinds together?” (p. 308)

Hoo boy…

Let me say upfront that, while I’m not religious, I have no problem with religious messages in fiction— particularly vampire stories. In Dracula, for example, the religious implications of vampirism are a major part of the story. It’s part of the setting, and Van Helsing can barely make it through a journal entry without saying “God’s will be done.” But more importantly, it casts the plight of Mina Harker in a completely different light, since once The Count forces her to drink his blood, a crucifix burns a scar on her forehead, signifying not only that her life is in danger, but that she has been cast from the grace of God. And this makes the struggle to save her truly epic.

What pisses me off is when the author tries lodge his/her own personal views on a hotbutton issue into a story where they clearly don’t belong. It’s not just that Edward is skeptical about the Theory of Evolution; after all, in a world with telepathic vampires and shape-shifting werewolves, I don’t think it’d be too far out of line to call the naturalistic worldview bunk. My issue is with his justification. If he dismissed evolution for the obvious reasons, I wouldn’t have a problem. If he dismissed it because he had strong religious feels, I wouldn’t have a problem (hell, it might have made his character somewhat interesting). But dismissing it for no reason besides a pithy statement about the world “just happening on its own” is preachy and condescending: a tactless nod to the moral guardians on an issue that bears exactly zero relevance to the story.

Moving on. The third question that Bella asks is about sex. Ok, they never actually say the word “sex,” but it’s pretty obviously implied. They’re beating around the bush a lot, and it’s kinda vague but… just… here, look at the relevant section of text.

“One more, then, tonight…” And I blushed. The darkness was no help— I’m sure he could feel the sudden warmth under my skin.

“What is it?”

“No, forget it. I changed my mine.”

“Bella, you can ask me anything.”

[here is about a half a page that I don’t feel like transcribing of Bella being stubbornly silent while Edward encourages her to speak. Eventually she gives in.]

“Well,” I began, glad that he couldn’t see my face.

“Yes?”

“You said that Rosalie and Emmett will get married soon… Is that… marriage… the same as it is for humans?”

He laughed in earnest, understanding. “Is that what you’re getting at?” (p. 309)

Yes, Edward, that is what she is getting at. And I gotta say, for a book that allegedly promotes chastity and a protagonist who is allegedly inexperienced in all things romantic, Bella doesn’t waste time. I mean, they’ve been going out for a week(?), and she’s already bugging him about sex. I love how this question is phrased to cleverly avoid suggesting that Bella might want sex outside of marriage.

“Yes, I suppose it is much the same,” he said. “I told you, most of those human desire are there, just hidden beneath more powerful desires.

“Oh,” was all I could say.

“Was there a purpose behind your curiosity?”

“Well, I did wonder… about you and me… some day…” (p. 310)

Well, despite Bella’s sudden inability to speak, Edward picks up the general gist of what she’s asking. His reply?

“I don’t think that… that.. would be possible for us.”

Why?

“It’s just that you are so soft, so fragile. I have to mind my actions every moment we’re together so that I don’t hurt you. I could kill you quite easily, Bella, simply by accident […] If I was too hasty… if for one second I wasn’t paying enough attention, I could reach out, meaning to touch your face, and crush your skull by mistake. You don’t realize how incredibly breakable you are. I can never afford to lose any kind of control when I’m with you.”

That’s right, girls. Men are strong and lustful, and physical intimacy will destroy you unless the man is constantly holding back. Otherwise, you may become all too familiar with the “Woman of Kleenex” problem.

Anyway, they confirm that they’re both virgins… which is important for some reason… And Edward tells Bella that his is attracted to her in “that way”. (Well, ok, he kinda implies it. If you haven’t already noticed, Edward prefers roundabout grandiosity to clear, direct speech. Which really gets annoying after a while.)

“I may not be human, but I am a man,” he assured me.

And, finally, Bella falls asleep in Edward’s arms, bringing this chapter to a merciful end. I hope you enjoyed this installment, because it’s killing me.

Hasta la vista, Baby.

Comment [29]

These next few chapters are relatively tame, which is good, because I gotta say, these long articles are wearing me out. I’m trying to be a little less ranting, and a little more lighthearted. After all, it’s just a book. It’s only a book… Oh, heaven help me…

Chapter 15: The Cullens

Chapter fifteen opens with Bella in bed the morning after. She wakes up slowly, groggily, like she would on any other Sunday. Then she remembers that there’s a vampire in her room. Yay! Overcome with excitement, she literally throws herself into his lap. Since this vampire is suppressing the desire to ear her, flinging herself towards him was probably not the brightest move, but it doesn’t seem to bother him as they begin cuddle.

I laid my head cautiously against his shoulder, breathing in the smell of his skin.

Listen, Bella, no matter how often you sniff him, it’s not going to start being normal.

“I was sure it was a dream.”

“You’re not that creative,” he scoffed. (p. 313)

Well, aren’t we smug this morning? If there are any women in the audience, please, could you explain to me why this man is attractive? Like, is it thrilling to think how snobbish and superior an imaginary boyfriend is? Because I’m not really getting past my knee-jerk “god this guy is an asshole” reaction.

Anyway, Bella takes a moment to go to the bathroom, brush her teeth, and comb her hair. Her reflection in the mirror seems to be a stranger to her, far more vibrant and disheveled than usual. A whole new Bella.

Once done in the bathroom, she dashes back to the room, and again falls into Edward’s arms. He holds her for a few minutes, and they talk about the things that Bella said during the night.

His gold eyes grew soft. “You said you loved me.”

“You knew that already,” I reminded him, ducking my head.

“It was nice to hear, just the same.”

I hid my face against his shoulder. “I love you,” I whispered.

“You are my life now,” he answered simply. (p. 314)

…

Remember what I said in the last chapter about Edward inflating everything he says into a grandiose, nigh on delusional declaration? Well, this is what I was talking about, except on steroids. Look at his dialogue. He is just constantly saying things that show a fundamental misunderstand of reality, and no human could possibly mean. He is this guy.

No matter how self-important, melodramatic, or pretentious you are, he is always going to one-up you. “You love me unconditionally and irrevocably? That’s nothing! You are my entire life now.”

It’s just not possible for me to take Edward seriously. Either he is full of shit, or he truly believes that his purpose in life (or, rather, undeath) is to dote upon a listless teenager. Either he is the most ridiculous character I have ever read, or the most pathetic. But, of course, this requires that I view him as an actual character, and not a puppet conceived to act out the fantasies of mothers and teenagers.

But even then, would you truly want a love interest who has literally no life outside of you? He wouldn’t be a complete person. I believe that the people you love become a central part of who you are, but that does not mean that you have no identity beyond them. It’s funny, the night before I began writing this article, I went to see Eclipse and throughout the movie I was thinking to myself, How is this guy appealing? He has, like, two facial expressions, “I am staring at Bella,” and “I am disgusted with myself” (or, alternatively, “I just sniffed my armpit”). Hell, even my 53-year-old father, who saw the movie with me, thought that Jacob was more appealing. It’s easy to see why so many consider the minor characters (Alice, Jasper, and Carlisle especially) far more interesting than the leads.

But I digress. Let’s get back to the story.

It’s breakfast time for the human, and there’s a kinda cute domestic scene where Edward tries to prepare breakfast for Bella, but fails miserably on account of not having prepared a breakfast in the past 90 years. I grant you, seeing our heroine make her own breakfast isn’t exactly an image of empowerment, but at this point I’ll take whatever I can get.

I found a bowl and a box of cereal. I could feel his eyes on me as I poured the milk and grabbed a spoon. I sat my food on the table, and then paused. (p. 315)

I narrated the boring domestic task like a robot. I couldn’t be bothered to vary my sentence structure in the slightest. I kept my tone flat and lifeless. I don’t have a personality to speak of, or any other distinctive qualities.

Anyway, with Charlie gone, it seems that Bella and Edward have the day to themselves, so Edward suggests that they go to meet the rest of his family. This prospect frightens or protagonist, not because she’s going into a house of bloodthirsty super heroes, but because they might not approve of her.

… Right.

Turns out, the family already knows just about everything that our leads have been doing. There are hints that Alice has had visions regarding Bella, but Edward refuses to explain. They also discuss how best to tell Charlie that they are dating. Why a simple “Hey Dad, this is Edward Cullen, and he asked me out last week,” wouldn’t work is beyond me, but I guess I can sympathize.

“Well, I don’t know if we need to give him all of the gory details.” He reached across the table to lift my chin with a cold, gentle finger. “But he will need some explanation for why I’m around here so much. I don’t want Chief Swan getting a restraining order put on me.” (p. 318)

Good god, this is rich.

There’s a little more angsting about how Bella is risking her life by being with Edward, before they agree to get over themselves for the time being. Bella runs upstairs to get dressed. Apparently a blue blouse and khaki-colored skirts are Edward’s very favorite clothing, since he practically jumps her when she reaches the bottom.

“You are utterly indecent— no one should look so tempting, it’s not fair.”

“Tempting how? I asked. “I can change…”

“He sighed, shaking his head. “You are so absurd.” He pressed his cool lips delicately to my forehead, and the room spun. The smell of his breath made it impossible to think.

“Shall I explain how you are tempting me?” he said. It was clearly a rhetorical question. His fingers traced slowly down mine, his breath coming more quickly against my skin. My hands were limp against my chest, and I felt light headed again. He tilted his head slowly and…” (p. 319)

Long story short, he hisses her. And she faints. Literally faints. Honest to Shakespeare, she faints.

“You… made… me… faint,” I accused him dizzily.

[…]

“Do you feel sick?” he asked; he’d seen me like this before.

“No— that wasn’t the same kind of fainting at all. I don’t know what happened.” I shook my head apologetically. “I think I forgot to breathe.” (p. 320)

EPIC FAIL

.

Good god, I just… I don’t know what possessed the author to include these things. Breathing is an autonomic function. You do it while you’re sleeping. It’s not something that you just forget to… to… oh, hell with it. Just sit back and enjoy the lulz.

Contrary to all sense, they decide that Bella is ok and go to the Cullen house. And wouldn’t you know it, even the house is perfect. Picturesque, scenic, open, probably designed by Frank Lloyd Wright or something. So perfect, in fact, that almost a page and a half is devoted to describing it. Hey, it’s better than the description of Edward sparkling. There’s a little more nervousness before they actually enter the house, but Edward offers plenty of encouragement.

“You look lovely.” He took my hand easily, without thinking. (p. 321)

Wait, wasn’t he angsting last night about how thoroughly breakable Bella was, and how he must never lose focus, else he accidentally crush her face or something? How is he suddenly able to easily take her hand without thinking? He should have pulverized her metatarsals just then. I’m just annoyed by how clearly Meyer didn’t care. She introduces an idea, milks it for a few tortured, grandiose monologues, and then forgets it the instant it becomes inconvenient. It’s just another addition to the list of Edward’s attributes that should put a damper on the romance, but conspicuously don’t. At least until Meyer feels like reminding us again that premarital sex is evil.

Anyway, I’ll spare you to the long, purple paragraph describing Carlisle and Esme. Suffice, they’re both very pretty. They greet her pleasantly, and seem to like her. Then Alice arrives and, to the delight of slashfic writers everywhere, bounces unabashedly up to Bella and kisses her on the cheek.

“You do smell nice, I never noticed before,” she commented, to my extreme embarrassment. (p. 323)

It’s practically cannon!

Jasper shows up next, but Emmett and Rosalie are conspicuously absent. Apparently Rosalie doesn’t like Bella. They all chat for about a page, until our heroine notices the piano and asks Esme about it. And guess what, Edward is musical! Oh joy. Well, you know what happens next. Edward goes to the piano…

And then his fingers flowed swiftly across the ivory and the room was filled with a composition so complex, so luxuriant, it was impossible to believe only one set of hands played. I felt my chin drop, my mouth open in astonishment, and heard the low chuckles behind me at my reaction.

Edward looked at me casually, the music still surging around us without a break, and winked. “Do you like it?” (p. 326)

… this is so freaking indulgent. I could be reading a book with a plot right now.

But no, instead I’m reading Edward brag about how he composes all of his own music. He switches to another song, a lullaby that he wrote for Bella, which brings her to tears with it’s incredible beauty. At some point, the rest of the Cullens disappear to give our leads some privacy.

They talk for a bit. Bella seems satisfied with her meeting with the Cullens, but is concerned about Rosalie not liking her. Why does Rosalie dislike Bella? Because she sees how shallow and insipid our protagonist truly is? Because her dear brother has decided to completely and unconditionally devote himself to this mopey sack of flesh?

Rosalie struggles most with… with what we are. It’s hard for her to haves someone on the outside know the truth. And she’s a little jealous.

“Rosalie is jealous of me?” I asked incredulously. I tried to imagine a universe in which someone as breathtaking as Rosalie would have any possible reason to feel jealous of someone like me.

“You’re human.” He shrugged. “She wishes that she were too.” (p. 327)

DAMNIT, EVEN THE PEOPLE WHO DON’T LIKE BELLA THINK SHE’S THE GREATEST DAMN THING SINCE SLICED BREAD!!!

And, of course, Esme thinks Bella is wonderful because of the sweeping transformation she has triggered in Edward.

“… All this time she’s been worried about me, afraid that there was something missing from my essential makeup[…]” (p. 327)

Yes, the one thing missing in his life was a mopey teenager to dote on. Who the fuck would have thought? Like so much else in this book, it’s dreamy if you identify with the dumb, mopey teenager, and bloody ridiculous otherwise.

Anyway, Edward drops another hint about Alice’s vision, but refuses to explain anything. Bella doesn’t press the subject. He then warns Bella that there is another group a vampires coming to town (of the non-vegetarian variety).

“I’m going to be a little… overbearingly protective for the next few days— or weeks— and I wouldn’t want you to think I’m naturally a tyrant.”

Gee, wherever would we have gotten that idea, Edward?

Anyway, Edward shows Bella around the house, remarking all the while on the absence of coffins, cobwebs, and other vampiric trappings. Bella notices an ancient wooden cross hanging above the door, and Edward explains that Carlisle carved it. This prompts a long, involved explanation of Carlisle’s backstory which spans the rest of this chapter and a good portion of the next.

Before I go into it, I’d just like to say that when your readers find long, heavyhanded, narrative-halting info dumps interesting than your main plot, you should seriously rethink your story. Here’s the short version.

Carlisle was born in the sixteen forties, the son of an Anglican pastor who was particularly zealous about hunting down and exterminating supernatural monsters (witches, werewolves, vampires, etc…). Growing up, Carlisle had a similarly strong faith, but was more reserved and forgiving, less prone to burn innocent people. He was also rather clever, and managed to discover a coven of true vampires living in the London sewers. Long story short, one of the vampires bit him, and he became the very monster he had devoted his life to hunting.

When Edward finishes monlogueing, Bella looks a little pale, but recovers quickly.

He smiled. “I expect you have a few more questions for me.”

“A few.”

His smile widened over his brilliant teeth. He stared back down the hall, pulling me along by the hand. “Come on, then,” he encouraged. “I’ll show you.” (p. 333)

And on this note, the chapter ends.

Chapter 16: Carlisle

I’ve already mentioned this, but Stephenie Meyer has a truly annoying habit of ending her chapters on false cliffhangers. What I mean is, at the end of this chapter is looks like the author is setting up a big, dramatic revelation. Edward is dragging Bella off, a wide, mysterious smile on his face, presumably to answer her most important, penetrating questions.

But then, when you turn the page, Edward merely takes Bella to Carlisle’s office, shows her an oil painting, and continues the exposition of his father’s backstory. It’s not clear that the chapter break was necessary at all, except as a way to break up what would have otherwise been about 18 pages of Edward talking.

Now, ending chapters on cliffhangers is not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, if done properly, it can create a great deal of suspense and keep your book glued to the reader’s hands. The problem is that, when you repeatedly fail to deliver the drama and action you promised, readers will rapidly lose patience. If you’ll remember, Meyer did the exact same thing at the end of Chapter 11 by setting up a big confrontation between Billy and Bella, only to have them eat dinner and watch TV. It puts the book in a perpetual state of anti-climax.

What follows is perfectly readable, but not that interesting to comment on. Edward talks about Carlisle’s initial reaction to becoming a vampire.

“When he knew what he had become,” Edward said quietly, “he rebelled against it. He tried to destroy himself. But that’s not easily done.” (p. 336)

Death by falling, death by drowning, and death by starvation all failed him—

I was having an off day.

— but we learn that the only way to kill a Meyerpire is dismemberment combined with fire.

Anyway, before Carlisle tried immolation, he discovered that animal blood is a passable substitute for human blood. Finally, he was able to live again. He swam to France, studied medicine, (oh, and by the way, vampires don’t need to breathe, a fact which Bella and Edward spend a whole page discussing) and became a good, kind, compassionate, immortal sex-god.

“I can’t adequately describe the struggle; it took Carlisle two centuries of tortuous effort to perfect his self-control. Now he is all but immune to the scent of human blood, and he is able to do the work he loves without agony. (p. 340)

You know what, that actually sounds like a good story. Why are we so interested in Edward’s tortured escapades with an underage girl?

Anyhoo, Carlisle took up for a while with a clan of Italian vamps, but since they were unabashed man-eaters, he eventually left for the Americas. After a while, he found his way to Chicago, where he encountered Edward, dying from Spanish Influenza. And now you know the rest of the story.

“And so we’ve come full circle,” he concluded.

“Have you always stayed with Carlisle, then?” I wondered. (p. 341)

In answering this question, Edward gives one of the most twisted confessions I have ever read, not because it is especially heinous, but because everyone seems to gloss over the implications of it.

“Well, I had a typical bout of rebellious adolescence— about ten years after I was… born… created, whatever you want to call it. I wasn’t sold on his life of abstinence, and I resented him for curbing my appetite. So I went of on my own for a time.

“Really?” I was intrigued, rather than frightened, as I perhaps should have been.

Uh… Bella? You do realize he just confessed to murder, multiple murders, right?

“That doesn’t repulse you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I guess… it sounds reasonable.” (p. 342)

No it doesn’t! What part of the word murder confuses you? It’s arguably the most heinous of all crime a single person can commit. It’s not a “typical bout of rebellious adolescence.” A typical rebellious teenager might get an unusual piercing, or go to a rowdy party, or stay out past his curfew. Edward killed people. And it is treated like nothing big.

Bella is right. She should be frightened. She should be revolted. But, as usual, she is physically incapable of thinking anything bad about Edward. I mean, even Assling had some issue with the idea of her love interest being a murder. With Bella, we just get more awed drooling.

“I thought I would be exempt from the … depression… that accompanies a conscience. Because I knew the thoughts of my prey, I could pass over the innocent and pursue only the evil. If I followed a murderer down a dark alley where he stalked a young girl— if I saved her, then surely I wasn’t so terrible.”

I shivered, imagining only too clearly what he described— the alley at night, the frightened girl, the dark man behind her. And Edward, Edward as he hunted, terrible and glorious as a young god, unstoppable. (p. 343)

Does anyone else find it a little unsettling that he can hear the thoughts of the people he’s killing? It’s like the Elves in the Inheritance series. Because of their telepathic awareness they respect all life and refuse to eat meat, but they have no problem slaughtering humans who stray onto their forest.

This is, of course, one of the classic signs of a Mary Sue: the “false flaw.” That is to say, a character trait that has all the trappings of a flaw and is exploited for much angst, but never actually impedes the character in achieving his/her goals. It pisses me off because this could easily have been a legitimate source of tension. But as usual, Meyer was unwilling to tarnish the perception of her “ideal man”. And as a result, her story suffers and Bella looks even more like a sociopath.

Anyway, Edward eventually realized the error of his ways and came back to Carlisle, and has lived as a vegetarian ever since.

And then, Edward shows Bella his room, which sports a magnificent view and the most impressive sound system you’ve ever seen. Bella ogles his music collection for a little while, and they chat some more. Bella makes the mistake of saying that she doesn’t find Edward scary, so he tackles her against the sofa.

I didn’t see him leap at me— it was much too fast. I only found myself suddenly airborne, and then we crashed onto the sofa, knocking it into the wall. All the while, his arms formed an iron cage of protection around me— I was barely jostled. But I was still gasping as I tried to right myself.

He wasn’t having that. He curled me into a ball against his chest, holding me more securely than iron chains. (p. 345)

Wow, I didn’t think Bella was into that kind of thing. So many iron cages and chains. And it seems that we’ve thrown the entire notion of Edward’s super strength accidentally killing Bella out the window. I mean, which is more likely to injure you, having sex, or playing rugby?

But aside from the blatant continuity problems, I guess this scene is kinda cute. There is a tendency in the anti-fandom to characterize Bella and Edward’s relationship as completely humorless and melodramatic (which it certainly can be at times), but we shouldn’t ignore the playful, easygoing moments that our leads share. If you ask me, it’s one of the few redeeming qualities that this book has, and is the reason why anybody, even the fans, are able to get through this tripe.

Anyway, Alice and Jasper interrupt their cuddling for a time to make an important announcement: VAMPIRE BASEBALL WILL INSUE NEXT CHAPTER.

Till next time, I’m Artimaeus, and this has been Twilight: Abridged and Annotated.

Comment [14]

Ah, baseball. The old American standby, at least until we found more interesting sports to watch (like football… and American football). Unfortunately, there’s a lot to go through in this chapter before the infamous baseball scene, so hike up your shorts, men. We’re wading in.

Chapter 17: The Game

The scene opens with Edward pulling his car onto Bella driveway. Why they went to her house is beyond me, but hey, who am I to question? There’s trouble, however, as they see Jacob and Billy’s car in the driveway. Apparently they came to warn Charlie about.

Edward’s low voice was furious. “This is crossing the line.” (p. 349)

Is it necessary to tell us again that Edward’s voice was low, especially since we already “heard Edward mutter something unintelligible in a low, harsh voice” two paragraphs ago? This is the kind of thing that should scream “I am an amateur!” to any legitimate publisher.

Bella volunteers to talk to the Blacks.

To my surprise, he agreed. “That’s probably best. Be careful though, the child has no idea.”

I bridled a little at the word child. “Jacob is not that much younger than I am,” I reminded him.

He looked at me then, his anger abruptly fading. “Oh, I know,” he assured me with a grin. (p. 349)

Wait… what? What is that supposed to mean? Edward knows that he’s dating a girl one sixth his age? I don’t know which is worse- that Meyer feels the need to remind us of this fact, or that nobody in the story seems to care.

“You don’t have to leave,” I said wistfully.

He smiled at my glum expression. “Actually, I do. After you get rid of them”— he threw a dark glance in the Blacks’ direction— “You still have to prepare Charlie to meet your new boyfriend.” He grinned widely, showing all of his teeth. (p. 349)

Anyway, before leaving, Edward kisses Bella under the jaw, she has another arrhythmia, and life goes on as if she hadn’t. Then she goes to meet the Blacks.

At first it’s all pleasantries with Billy and Jacob. They’ve brought over some homemade fish fry for Charlie. Indeed, the seem pretty intent on talking with him. This could cause Bella some serious trouble.

“Fishing again?” Billy asked with a subtle gleam in his eye. “Down at the usual spot? Maybe I’ll run by and see him.”

“No,” I quickly lied, my face going hard. “He was headed someplace new… but I have no idea where.” (351)

Gee, good thing she’s such a good liar. Otherwise, the scene might have been legitimately suspenseful. Plus, there’s the little fact fact that she’s not SUPPOSED to be a good liar because she EXPLICITLY STATED that she was a bad liar earlier in the story. But hey, what kind of Mary Sue would she be if she let an actual character trait get in the way of an important plot point?

Billy gets thoughtful, and decides to talk to Bella before he goes off to find Charlie. He cleverly dismisses Jacob (who still thinks this whole vampire thing is a bunch of silly superstitions) by telling him to grab a picture from the trunk of his car. Then he begins to grill our protagonist.

He spoke each word carefully with his rumbling voice. “I noticed you’ve been spending time with one of the Cullens.”

“Yes,” I repeated curtly.

His eyes narrowed. “Maybe it’s none of my business, but I don’t think that is such a good idea.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. “It is none of your business.” (p. 352)

This sequence isn’t so bad. It shows Bella being resourceful and a little clever, reminding Billy of the pact between his tribe and the Cullens and generally refusing to be blackmailed. After a short debate over whose business is whose, Billy agrees to let Bella be, for the time.

“ It’s not my business,” he said. “But it may be Charlie’s.”

“Though it would be my business, again, whether or not I think it’s Charlie’s business, right?” I wondered whether he even understood my confused question as I struggled not to say anything compromising. But he seemed to. He thought about it while the rain picked up against the roof, the only sound breaking the silence.

I haven’t been this confused since The Matrix trilogy marathon.

“Yes,” he finally surrendered. “I guess that’s your business too.” (p. 353)

Surrendered? Really? Ditch the dialogue tags, Meyer; they don’t work. I suppose when all is said and done, I wish Billy had put up a little more fight here. He goes on to say that Bella shouldn’t be doing what she is doing, and it’s made clear (albeit through our protagonist’s super perceptiveness) that he is sincerely concerned for her well being.

At this point Jacob returns from the car, complaining bitterly that there was no photograph in the car, and the Blacks exit stage left. Now alone, Bella changes into casual clothes for the baseball game.

Yes, Stephenie, thank you for reminding me what I’m supposed to care about.

Anyway, Bella struggles with apprehension and indecision for a couple of sentences before throwing on a shirt and jeans. Then the phone rang. Bella rushes for it, thinking it’s Edward, but it turns out to be Jessica. You remember Jessica, right? Bella’s shallow friend who only ever talked about Mike Newton? Well, she called to talk some more about Mike Newton, and what they did at the previous night’s dance.

“It was so much fun!” Jessica gushed. Needing no more invitation than that, she launched into a minute by minute account of the previous night. I mmm‘d and ahh‘d at the right places, but it wasn’t easy to concentrate. Jessica, Mike, the dance, the school— they all seemed strangely irrelevant at the moment.

Yes, I said thank you for telling me what I care about, Stephenie.

Oh, but it goes on.

My eyes kept flashing to the window, trying to judge the degree of light behind the heavy clouds.

“Did you hear what I just said, Bella?” Jess asked, irritated.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, Mike kissed me! Can you believe it?” (p. 355)

Ughhhh… Ok, I can kinda see what Meyer is trying to do with this sequence. I place emphasis on the word “trying” because, quite frankly, it’s already been established to hell and back that if your classification doesn’t begin with a “V” and rhyme with “umpire”, Bella doesn’t care about you. I mean, reminding us that Bella has a regular life outside of her new boyfriend is not a bad idea; it adds to the drama when she is forced to flee Forks. The way it is written, however, the protagonist has to struggle to feign interest, completely neutering the drama. If she doesn’t care, why should we? Rather than raise the stakes of her story, Meyer simply ties up the romantic loose ends off screen so that Bella can get on with their obsessive codependence. Rather than set up conflict, this scene ensures that Jessica and Mike will never again contribute to the plot.

Anyway just as Jess is asking about Edward Cullen, Charlie arrives at the house, sparing Bella the trouble of answering. There’s a few paragraphs of domestic pleasantry, and then Bella tells her dad that she’s going out with that Cullen kid.

“Well, I sort of have a date with Edward Cullen tonight, and I wanted to introduce me to his parents… Dad?”

It appeared that Charlie was having an aneurysm.

“Dad, are you all right?”

“You are going out with Edward Cullen?” he thundered.

Uh-oh. “I thought you liked the Cullens.”

“He’s too old for you,” he ranted.

Damn straight, padre.

“We’re both juniors,” I corrected, though he was more right that he dreamed. (p. 357)

Anyway, it turns out that Charlie thought that she was going out with Emmett rather than Edward, though for someone who was actively pushing Mike Newton on his daughter, this reaction seems a little over the top. Anyway, Bella explains that Edward is the youngest of the family (i.e. she lies like she’s being paid), and Dad calms down. He still asks questions, and calls Edward “Edwin” a couple of times. Good old bumbling Dad, eh?

“You said last night that you weren’t interested in any of the boys in town.”

Attaboy, Charlie. Call her out.

“Well, Edward doesn’t live in town, Dad.”

Bullshit.

In any case, she tell him that Edward will be there in a few minutes to take her to watch a baseball game with the family.

Only in Washington would the fact that it was raining buckets have no bearing at all on the playing of outdoor sports. (p. 359)

More bullshit…

Finally, Edward shows up, and the narration pauses do describe how much like a model he looks. Not much interesting happens here. Or lead man comes into the house, talks with Charlie (who, to Bella’s relief, gets his name correct), and generally acts like an homage to the fifties.

“Don’t worry, Charlie, I’ll have her home early,” Edward promised.

“You take care of my girl, all right?”

I groaned, but they ignored me.

“She’ll be safe with me, I promise, sir.”

Charlie couldn’t doubt Edward’s sincerity, it rang in every word. (p. 359)

It turns out Edward brought another ridiculous car, this time a bright red monster Jeep so large that Bella needs his help to get into the thing. And then she needs his help getting the off-roading harness buckled. At this point I’m fairly certain Meyer gave up on trying to tell a story, and just began to write down every circumstance where Edward touches Bella that came into her mind.

I was glad that the rain was too heavy to see Charlie clearly on the porch. That meant he couldn’t see how Edward’s hand lingered at my neck, brushed along my collarbones. I gave up trying to help him and focused on not hyperventilating. (p. 360)

But (as usual) this is nothing compared to what’s coming. Turns out that Edward did not plan to drive all the way there, but to drop the car off near the woods and run the rest of the distance with Bella on his back. Naturally, Bella is reluctant, since the last time is still fresh in her memory. It left scared silly and a sick to her stomach. But even his girlfriends explicit objections don’t deter dear Edward.

“Hmmm…,” he mused as he quickly finished [unbuckling the safety harness]. “It seems I’m going to have to tamper with your memory.” (p. 361)

First he pins her to the side of the car.

He placed his hands against the Jeep on either side of my head and leaned forward, forcing me to press my back against the door. He leaned even closer, his face inches from mine. I had no room to escape.

Then he asks her why she’s afraid to ahem ride him, and she answers stubbornly.

Then he bent his head down and touched his cold lips softly to the hollow at the base of my throat.

“Are you still worried now?” He murmured against my skin. (p. 362)

Yes she is, though she can’t quite remember why. Edward still persists.

He kissed slowly down my cheek, stopping just at the corner of my mouth.

“Would I let a tree hurt you?” his lips barely brushed against my trembling lower lip.(p. 363)

And within a single page, Bella’s resistance has melted like butter before a blowtorch. Edward delivers the coup de grace with a kiss from his (and I quote) “unyielding lips”.

POP

I think that was one of my arteries. There’s blood rushing into my brain. I can feel the end coming. Finally, peace! Freedom from the burden of critiquing this gorram smut.

…

Get off the floor, Artimaeus.

…

You’re not fooling anybody.

Bugger… Just let me dust myself off.

Sigh… Well, let’s get the obvious out of the way. This genre book scene is made of wish fulfillment. Shameless, undiluted wish fulfillment. It doesn’t advance the story. It doesn’t add to the milieu. And it certainly doesn’t expand the characterization. It was written solely to give readers the thrill of being vicariously overpowered by anther’s sheer sex appeal.

Thing is, calling Meyer out on this would be much like calling out Tim Curry for cross-dressing.

I mean, it’s valid, but it won’t earn you any extra credit.

What we have here is the old school fantasy. Scenes like this one, where a woman is overcome by the forceful sensuality a man, were helping to sell crappy bodice-ripper romances long before Meyer took up the craft. Nor is it only good for female wish fulfillment, if James Bond (which I, still like, despite it all) is any indication. Seems guys like to vicariously dominate almost as much as girls like to be vicariously dominated. Is it sexist? Horribly. Unfortunate implications aplenty. But that is what you get when happens when you look at people’s base desires.

This is not, in itself, a bad thing. Most people fantasize about things that would not, under any real life-circumstances, be ethical or pleasurable (if you sincerely doubt me, look up “The Fisherman’s Wife” on wikipedia). Fantasies hurt nobody. The damage is done when people fail to differentiate between fantasy and reality. And that is ultimately why I’m here pointing out the obvious with as much wit as I can manage.

Let’s be honest, objectively speaking, worse shit than Twilight has been published. Hell, there are entire genres devoted to worse shit. What Twilight has that the worse shit does not is mainstream recognition: legions of noisy, obsessed fans who take this series as more than fluffy escapism and, if you ask me, desperately need the obvious spelled out for them.

So, here it is:

EDWARD CULLEN’S DOMESTIC ABUSE CHECKLIST: Do you…. – isolate you girlfriend, making her feel like there is nobody she can trust? – belittle your girlfriend, making her feel helpless? – spy on your girlfriend, denying her any form of privacy? – use sex to manipulate your girlfriend into doing things she’s opposed to?

Now where were we?

Ah, right, Edward kisses Bella… which triggers yet another lust attack. We have a paragraph describing Bella’s violent passion as she opens her mouth, clasps his hair, and presses her body against his. At least until Edward’s manly restraint kicks in.

He staggered back, breaking my grip effortlessly.

“Damn it, Bella!” he broke off, gasping. “You’ll be the death of me, I swear you will.” (p. 363)

For the record, I think that’s the first and only time anybody swears in this book. Personally, I can’t read it without laughing.

Anyway, moving on, Edward hoists his hapless girlfriend onto his back and runs off through the forest. It turns out that her fear was completely baseless; the ride was so smooth she could barely tell that they were moving. All she had to do was close her eyes and let the man take charge. Silly woman.

While climbing from her sparkly mount, Bella slips and falls on her back. Edward finds this riotously funny, and our protagonist stalks off, understandably peeved (it’s about damn time). But noble Edward chases her, first to tell her that she’s stalking off in the opposite direction of the baseball game, and then to comfort her.

“Don’t be mad, I couldn’t help myself. You should have seen your face.” He chuckled before he could stop himself.

“Oh, you’re the only one who’s allowed to get mad?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“I wasn’t mad at you.”

“‘Bella, you’ll be the death of me?’” I quoted sourly.

I tried to turn away from him, but he held me fast. (p. 365)

Edward then explains that is was not her that he was angry at, but himself.

“I’m never angry with you—how could I be? Brave, trusting… warm as you are.”

“Then why?” I whispered, remembering the black moods that pulled him away from me, that I’d always interpreted as well justified frustration— frustration at my weakness, my slowness, my unruly human reactions…

He put his hands carefully on both sides of my face. “I infuriate myself,” he said gently. “The way I can’t seem to keep from putting you in danger. My very existence puts you at risk. Sometimes I truly hate myself. I should be stronger, I should be able to—” (p. 366)

I placed my hand over his mouth. “Don’t.”

“I love you,” he said. “It’s a poor excuse for what I’m doing, but it’s still true. (p. 366)

I suppose this is another one of the standard fantasies, right? Reforming a bad boy (or, in this case, a withdrawn, self-loathing boy) with the Power of Love. The promise that, simply by being vulnerable, brave, and unconditionally trusting, a girl can work magic in his heart, despite her weaknesses and human flaws. I mean, in practically every conversation, we see a) Edward describe the monumental, transformative effort that loving Bella (without killing her) requires, and b) Bella’s uselessness compared to his divine strength and beauty. And this resonates hard. After all, what girl wouldn’t enjoy imagining herself the center of a love strong enough to remake another’s life? All the better, if that person happens to be totally hawt and in all ways out of her league.

Provided that it works… which it usually doesn’t, at least outside of fiction. You ask me, there are too many girls who do not stand up for themselves because they’re waiting for love to change their antagonists. Who feel they have nothing to offer but trust and helpless devotion. Who blame themselves, their weaknesses and slowness, for their lover’s anger. Gee, I wonder which protagonist of a bestselling young-adult novel that sounds like?

Anyway, I’m moving on.

They eventually move off to meet the rest of the Cullens in a wide field. Alice and Jasper are pitching a ball between them from a quarter mile apart, and Carlisle is setting up a really freaking huge baseball diamond. Emmet and Esme greet them, making fun of Edward for laughing so loudly at Bella

“Was that you we heard, Edward?” Esme asked as we approached.

“It sounded like a bear choking,” Emmett clarified. (p. 367)

You know what, I’m actually beginning to like these Cullens, if only because they don’t treat Edward like an avatar of masculine virtue. I mean, I just don’t get how Edward manages to be so uptight and self important when he’s living with people who seem so well adjusted.

[Esme] laughed too. “Well, I do think of them as my children, inmost ways. I could never get over my mothering instincts— did Edward ever tell you that I had lost a child?

“No,” I murmured, stunned, scrambling to understand what lifetime she was remembering.

“Yes, my first and only baby. He died a few days after he was born, the poor tiny thing,” she sighed. “It broke my heart— that’s why I jumped off the cliff, you know,” she added matter-of-factly. (p. 368)

Ok, well, maybe not completely well adjusted, but awkward moments aside, they’re pretty cool. Esme and Bella talk some more (Esme is the umpire of vampire baseball). She says again how happy she is that Edward’s found somebody to be with, and how he was a lonely, broken bird till she showed up. She’s confident that the two of them will work out because, as she says to Bella:

“You’re what he wants. It will work out, somehow.”

Before she can offer any more sentimental encouragement, however, the game begins. Alice runs like a gazelle and her pitch strikes like a cobra. Eward runs like a cheetah. Bat strikes ball with a thunderous crash. The players run at lightning speed from base to base. How an aluminum bat, a normal baseball, or the players’ uniforms could survive such abuse is beyond me, but apparently the Cullens manage. Though the image of seven ridiculously attractive people literally wearing off their clothes as run certainly adds some excitement to the scene.

I don’t care that they dunked your face in chalk, Ashley Greene, you’re still really really really pretty!

Yea, anyway, they play baseball for a while. Then Alice begins to freak out. Apparently, she foresaw that the non-vedgie vamps that were moving into town heard them playing and are on their way to meet them.

“How soon?” Carliase said, turning towards Edward.

A look of intense concentration crossed his face.

“Less than five minutes. They’re running— they want to play,” He scowled.

“Can you make it? Carlisle asked him, his eyes flicking towards me again.

“No, not carrying—” He cut short. “Besides, the last think we need is for them to catch the scent and start hunting.” (p. 372)

Anyway, they decide to continue playing and wait for the unfamiliar vampires to arrive. Emmett is confident that the family could easily win a fight, if they had to.

“Three!” he scoffed. “Let them come.” The steel bands of muscle flexed along his massive arms.

Can someone please revoke the author’s privilege to use metaphors?

There are a few more pages of anxiety while the game continues. Edward sits out, planting himself by Bella’s side. As usual, he begins to blame himself for everything that’s happened. Then, in the middle of his depressed apology, the other vampires show up at the edge of the field, too far away for Bella to see.

At this point, the chapter ends, meaning that this book has dragged on for seventeen chapters without any semblance of a plot. Next, we take a look at Chapter 18, when stuff actually happens. So let me leave you with a funny video comparing Twilight and True Blood.

I’m Artimaeus, and this had been Twilight: Abridged and Annotated.

Comment [13]

When we last left Bella and her undead groupies, they were finishing a game baseball, waiting to be approached by a group of potentially hostile vamps.

Chapter 18: The Hunt

They emerged one by one from the forest edge, ranging a dozen meters apart.

It gives me great pleasure to announce, Ladies and Gentlemen, at page 375, THE PLOT HAS FINALLY ARRIVED!!!

And I gotta say, considering the sheer volume of estrogen that Twilight has injected into vampire mythology, these guys aren’t half bad. Ok, they are still dressed as backpackers, which isn’t the most threatening choice of clothes, but they’re far more feral, wild, and outright villainous than the Cullens. They don’t walk; they prowl, as if they’re ready to pounce at any moment, and their eyes are a dark, angry red. They’re about as close to actual vampires as this book is going to get.

However, since our narrative is focalized through a chronically shallow 17-year-old girl, we also get the obligatory description of their physical attractiveness.

The man in front was easily the most beautiful, his skin olive-toned beneath the typical pallor, his hair a glossy black. He was of medium build, hard-muscled, of course, but nothing next to Emmett’s brawn. He smiled an easy smile, exposing a flash of gleaming white teeth.

The woman was wilder, her eyes shifting restlessly between the man facing her and the loose grouping around me, her chaotic hair quivering in the slight breeze. Her posture was distinctly feline. The second male hovered unobtrusively behind them, slighter than the leader, his light brown hair and regular features nondescript. (p. 376)

Gee, I wonder which of these vampires will be evil; the one with a an entire paragraph devoted to his olive-toned skin, chiseled musculature, and glossy black hair. Or the ugly one? Place your bets now, folks.

The trio approaches the Cullens, and introduce themselves as Laurent (the pretty one), James (the ugly one), and Victoria (the girl). And then… they talk sociably.

“Do you have room for a few more players?” Laurent asked sociably.

Carlisle Matched Laurent’s friendly tone. “Actually, we were just finishing up. But we’d certainly be interested another time. Are you planning to stay in the area for long?”

“No, this region is usually empty except for us and the occasional visitor, like yourselves.” (p. 377)

Wait a minute, I thought these guys were supposed to be aggressive and feral. This is the terrible menace to our Mary Sue’s safety? This is what everyone was so worked up over last chapter? Laurent asks Carlisle about his hunting range, and pleasantly agrees not to infringe on their territory. I mean, they’re just chatting. Carlisle offers to show them to their house to explain their vegetarian way of life, and Laurent appears genuinely interested.

“That sounds very interesting, and welcome.” His smile was genial. “We’ve been on the hunt all the way down from Ontario, and we haven’t had a chance to clean up in a while.” His eyes moved appreciatively over Carlisle’s refined appearance.

Oh for the love of— Vampires are not “genial”. They’re savage, brutal, hunters of the night. I take back what I said before. These guys are as lame as the rest of them.

Finally, mercifully, the wind disturbs Bella’s hair, and the three strangers realize that she’s human. Why they didn’t pick up on that fact earlier (since Alice explicitly stated last chapter that she could smell her from across the field) is left without explanation, but since this is the first action this book has seen (aside from Edward’s hissy fits), I’ll take it half baked.

“You brought a snack?” [James] asked, his expression incredulous as he took an involuntary step forward.

Edward snarled even more ferociously, harshly, his lip curling high above his glistening, bared teeth. Laurent stepped back again.

“I said she’s with us,” Carlisle corrected in a hard voice. (p. 379)

Laurent and Carlisle manage to calm everybody down for the moment, but it’s pretty clear that James is still intent on drinking our poor protagonist’s Blood. Hurriedly, Alice, Emmett, and Edward shepherd Bella back to the car. Our protagonist had apparently been paralyzed with terror this entire time, though you wouldn’t have known it from the narration, which has had the same indifferent tone as in every other scene not describing Edward’s body.

This whole time I’d been rooted in place, terrified into absolute immobility. Edward had to grip my elbow and pull sharply to break my trance. (p.380)

Show, don’t tell, Stephenie! You’re trying to write a scary, tense scene. Put some emotion into your prose. It doesn’t work to write an entire scene in a deadpan voice, and then say afterwards that the narrator was scared shitless. Here, I was bored for the majority of that scene because it looked like the rival vampire clans were about to sit down for tea and dumplings.

Anyway, now that they are away from the vampires, Edward immediately asserts his masculinity by flinging Bella into the backseat of the van and ordering Emmett to strap her in. I’m not exaggerating anything here.

We reached the Jeep in an impossibly short time, and Edward barely slowed as he flung me into the backseat.

“Strap her in,” he ordered Emmett, who slid in beside me. (p. 318)

See what I mean?

Once Emmett has Bella strapped in, they’re off, swerving down the road at ridiculous speed. Edward is mumbling something low and furious, and generally acts like a psychotic control freak. Finally, Bella has the good sense to panic.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

No one Answered. No one even looked at me.”

“Dammit, Edward! Where are you taking me?”

“We have to take you away from here — far away— now.” He didn’t look back, his eyes on the road. The speedometer read a hundred and five miles an hour.

“Turn around! You have to take me home!” I shouted. I struggled with the stupid harness, tearing at the straps.

“Emmett,” Edward said grimly.

And Emmett secured my hands in his steely grasp. (p. 381)

Yep, they’re officially kidnapping her. Bella is grows increasingly panicked, but Edward’s resolve remains, since he knows best. Alice comes in on Bella’s side, trying to get Edward to pull over so they can talk things over, but he still needs to be pissed for… some reason? Maybe he’s afraid it will make him less of a man. I don’t know.

“Edward, let’s just talk this through.”

“You don’t understand,” he roared in frustration. I’d never heard his voice so loud; it was deafening in the confines of the Jeep. The speedometer neared one hundred and fifteen. “He’s a tracker, Alice, did you see that? He’s a tracker!”

Emmett agrees with Alice, whose voice is calm and reasonable. Is Edward done yet? Oop— apparently not.

“He doesn’t know where—”

He interrupted her “How long do you think it will take him to cross her scent into town? His plan was already set before the words were out of Laurent’s mouth.” (p. 382)

Ok, whenever you feel like discussing your options….

The car slowed again, more noticeably, and then suddenly we screeched to a stop on the shoulder of the highway. I flew against the harness, and then slammed back into the seat.

“There are no options,” Edward hissed. (p. 383)

Pardon my asking, but is this how women truly want their beloved to respond to danger— with blind, unreasonable rage? I mean, yes, it’s nice to have someone who will charge heedlessly to your rescue, but wouldn’t it be better if he had a little self-control in a crisis situation? Edward’s roaring, ineffectual rampage isn’t helping anybody. Hell, I thought self-control supposed to be his defining trait. This isn’t dramatic or romantic; it’s irritating.

But anyway, it turns out Edward is frustrated because he read James’s mind, and he knows the ugly vampire won’t rest until he drains Bella’s blood. Yes, esteemed readers, turns out the only unattractive vampire in the entire gorram book was the evil one.

It’s like Meyer realized when she reached this chapter, “Oh shit, my terminally shallow protagonist will fall helplessly in love a dangerous predator based on his dazzling looks alone. I gotta make sure none of my antagonists rate better than a C+.” That way, Bella can think with her libido without any unfortunate consequences! Deep down there’s probably a pitiful fantasy world where everything is simple, all evil people are marked by their plainness, and beautiful people are fundamentally good .

But I digress.

Now that they’ve finally pulled over, Alice tries to talk strategy, but it seems Edward still isn’t done throwing a tantrum.

Edward turned on her in fury, his voice a blistering snarl “There— is— no— other— option!” (p. 383)

You get the idea. When Edward finally calms down, the begin to discuss the problem at hand: namely, that if they whisk Bella out of town without delay, they leave Charlie at the mercy of the bloodthirsty vampire. That, and the FBI might come down on their sparkly tails.

To complicate matters, Bella is worried sick about Charlie, and wants to go tell him that she’s leaving town. At first, the vampires refuse to listen to her…

“Does anyone want to hear my plan?”

“No,” Edward growled. (p. 384)

— but eventually they let her explain.

Her plan is basically to go to Charlie’s house, pack her bags, and tell him that she’s leaving, relying on the close presence of the Cullens to ward off a vampire attack. That way, assuming James hears their little row, he will leave Charlie alone, and he, in turn, will not call the police.

Eventually, the three of them, (Bella, Alice, and Emmett) convince Edward to go grudgingly along with the plan. But there are a couple of details left to explain. First, Bella thinks that she should skip town with Alice and Jasper, since Charlie would get suspicious if they both she and Edward went missing at the same time. They’re also betting James will assume that the main couple will stay together, and follow Edward. Why this is the case, since the Hunter is relying a great deal on Bella’s smell, I’m not sure. But, hey, if it means I don’t have to listen to his whining for then next three chapters, then I’m not complaining.

Hang out here for a week—” I saw his expression in the mirror and amended “— a few days. Let Charlie see that you haven’t kidnapped me, and lead this James on a wild-goose chase. Make sure he’s completely off my trail. Then come and meet me?” (p. 387)

Ok, sounds like a plan. But where will they meet?

“Phoenix.” Of course.

Wait, what? That’s a terrible idea.

“No. He’ll hear that’s where you’re going,” he said impatiently.

“And you’ll make it look like that’s a ruse, obviously He’ll know that we know that he’s listening. He’ll never believe I’m actually going where I say I’m going.” (p. 387)

That’s stupid. First off, there are any number of places where the vampire wouldn’t expect you to go (Ablemarle, North Carolina, for example), and even if he’d never expect you to hide in Phoenix, you don’t want to go anywhere where he could track you the old fashioned way.

Here’s a better idea: once you’re confident the vampire isn’t following you, have Alice whip out her cell phone and book three seats on the red-eye flight to Hawaii. Doesn’t matter which airport, so long as you put enough distance between yourself and Forks that James won’t ambush you while you board. A few connection flights later, and you’ll be pretty much untrackable. It’s hard to leave a scent trail when you’re 37,000 feet above ground, and James doesn’t seem like the type who’d hack a computer. Presto, Vampire lost.

But, of course, Alice and Emmett go along with Bella’s oh so cunning strategy, since she’s so speshul and intellijent.

“She’s diabolical,” Emmett Chuckled. (p. 387)

Now, I’ll admit, it’s nice that Bella is being somewhat active in the plot. It’d be better, however, if the plan wasn’t obviously flawed and the vampires didn’t treat her like the second coming of Einstein for thinking of it.

But anyway, they decide to make for Charlie’s house. The chapter is almost over, but not before Edward creates a little more false drama.

“Bella.” Edward’s voice was very soft. Alice and Emmett looked out their windows. “If you let anything happen to yourself— anything at all— I’m holding you personally responsible. Do you understand that?” (p. 388)

Uh… was that supposed to be serious or funny? I can’t tell anymore.

And so, with the protagonist off to confront her father, the chapter ends.

Chapter 19: Goodbyes

As far as the quality of the writing goes, this is one of the worst chapters in the book. We begin with the scene where Bella has to convince her father that she is hates the town of Forks and everything in it. You’d expect this to be very poignant and emotionally moving.

It isn’t.

For Bella, the entire affair is quick, effortless, and nearly guiltless. I don’t know why Meyer chose to neuter the drama like this. Perhaps she didn’t want to distract from Bella and Edward’s romance. Perhaps she fell to the compulsion to protect her Mary Sue self-insert. Or maybe she’s flat-out incapable of writing any emotion besides pretentious lust. But it is telling that Bella’s farewell to Edward, who she will probably see again in a matter of days, is more intense than the scene where she deliberately breaks her father’s heart.

Don’t believe me? Don’t worry. You’ll see what I mean.

The chapter opens with Edward pulling up outside the Swan residence. Bella notices that the lights are on. Charlie was waiting up for her.

My mind was blank as I tried to think of a way to make him let me go. This wasn’t going to be pleasant. (p. 390)

Well, that’s an understatement. And don’t worry, Bella’s uncertainty will have vanished by the time it would have become inconvenient.

Edward informs the party that everything is going according to plan. The tracker hasn’t arrived there yet. For some reason, however, Bella is getting teary eyed over the prospect of leaving Emmet behind. It’s as random as it sounds.

I felt moisture filling up my eyes as I looked at Emmett. I barely knew him, and yet, somehow not knowing when I would see him again after tonight was anguishing. I knew this was just a faint taste of the goodbyes I would have to survive in the next hour, and the thought made the tears begin to spill. (p. 391)

Uh… ok. I guess our protagonist is just that sensitive, though I gotta point out that Bella hasn’t spared a single thought for any of her human friends, who she won’t even get a chance to say goodbye to. I mean, Emmett is cool and all, but she’s right. She barely knows him. It seems that this was mostly just an excuse to get Bella crying.

“I can do this.” I sniffed. My tears had given me inspiration. (p. 391)

It’s nice to see that Bella’s uncertainty and nervousness almost lasted a page.

Anyway, Bella and Edward stop on the porch to whisper how much the love each other in appropriately “low, intense” voices. And then Bella screams for him to go away, and bursts through the front door, sobbing. Charlie tries to ask her what’s wrong, but she storms up to her room and slams the door.

“Bella, are you okay? What’s going on?” His voice was frightened.

“I’m going home,” I shouted, my voice breaking in the perfect spot.

“Did he hurt you?” His tone edged towards anger.

“No!” I shrieked a few octaves higher. I turned to my dresser, and Edward was already there, silently yanking out armfuls of random clothes, which he proceeded to throw to me.

“Did he break up with you?” Charlie was perplexed.(p. 392)

I’m not sure how this man goes from “frightened” to “angry” to “perplexed” over the course of four sentences. I’m also not sure who uses words like “perplexed” in the middle of a big fight with their father.

“I broke up with him!” I shouted back, jerking on the zipper of my bag. Edward’s capable hands pushed mine away and zipped it smoothly. He put the strap carefully over my back. (p. 393)

Even in the midst of what should be the most stressful situation of Bella’s life, we’re still preoccupied with Edward’s “capable hands”…

Anyway, Bella storms from the room and runs for the door, but Charlie catches her and demands to know why she broke up with Edward, and why she has to leave. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for. We’re all on the edge of our seats, wondering how the hell she’s going to get out of this.

I could think of only one way to escape, and it involved hurting him so much that I hated myself for even considering it. But I had no time, and I had to keep him safe.

I glared at my father, fresh tears in my eyes for what I was about to do.

“I do like him— that’s the problem. I can’t do this anymore! I can’t put down any roots here! I don’t want ot end up trapped in this stupid, boring town like Mom! I’m not going to make the same dumb mistake she did.” (p. 393)

Ouch.

Now, did that seem difficult? I mean, there was no hesitation, no stammering, no sudden doubt. Yes, Bella acknowledges that she’s being horrible, but that isn’t enough. “I loath myself so very much for hurting my father, but the plot requires it, so… Okay!” Show, don’t tell! Show the toll that this task is taking on Bella. Show her doubt, her fear. Show me her struggle.

I don’t know if you’ve ever hurt somebody that you cared about, but it’s not easy or painless. People can’t just turn on the heartless bitch like a light switch. Again, this is the most stressful moment of Bella’s life. She should be terrified, clumsy, struggling each moment with the knowledge that if she fails to shatter her father’s heart, they will both die horrible deaths.

Anxiety, fear, and self-doubt are all very powerful emotions. There’s a physical element, the rapid heartbeat, dry mouth, and quivering knees. The ability to articulate complete sentences usually goes to hell. A girl who is supposed to be selfless, compassionate, and endearing should have more trouble intentionally hurting someone she cares about. That doesn’t mean that she can’t do it, but there should be some sort of internal conflict, and it damn well better be written convincingly.

But wait, this scene isn’t over yet. Hurt as he may be, Charlie isn’t about to let his daughter leave in the middle of the night and drive across four states to an empty house. He asks her to wait a week, at the very least, so that she’ll be able to meet Renee in Phoenix. This catches Bella off guard, so she pulls out the big guns, her last resort, the ultimate emotional crotch-shot.

He was too close, one hand extended towards me, his face dazed. I couldn’t lose any more time arguing with him. I was going to have to hurt him further.

“Just let go of me, Charlie.” I repeated my mother’s last words as she’s walked out this same door so many years ago. I said them as angrily as I could manage, and I threw the door open. “It didn’t work out, okay? I really, really hate Forks!”

My cruel words did their job— Charlie stayed frozen on the doorstep, stunned, while I ran into the night. I was hideously frightened of the empty yard. I ran wildly for the truck, visualizing a dark shadow behind me. (p. 394)

I don’t have the words. Look at how she just decides, “I was going to have to hurt him further,” like it’s nothing. I mean, picture yourself in this situation. You are intentionally hurting somebody you love in the most brutal way you know, because anything less would put him in mortal danger. You don’t know whether you’ll live to see him again, and you don’t know whether he’ll forgive you if you do. Would that be easy for you?

The sad part is that Meyer had a legitimately good idea here. This scene had the potential to be one of the hardest hitting in the book. It should have tugged at the heartstrings, and made the reader care whether or not our piddling protagonist comes out of the plot alive. It could have made this story worth taking seriously, which is no small task, considering that Bella’s only source of suffering so far has been the fact that her boyfriend is substantially prettier than her.

And yet, Meyer chooses to understate it. making it merely another plot point. Bella just goes through the motions without a hitch, and the instant she’s out the door, the interpersonal drama is all but forgotten.

If you’ll forgive my indulgence, here is my take on what these last three paragraphs could have been:

He was too close, reaching for me, hardly daring to smile. He wanted to make everything better, and I was exhausted from the shouting and the crying. I had to get out of there now, or I wouldn’t have the strength. We would die because I couldn’t hurt him enough. My mouth was dry, hung open, but no words came out. He was too close to me. There was only one option left. I focused all of my energy on making the words come out, and not thinking about how much they would hurt.

“Just let me go, Charlie,” I said as clearly and angrily as I could. Those were the words my mother had said as she’d walked out this same door so many years ago. He had spent the past sixteen years getting over that moment, and I was forcing him to relive it.

Of course it worked— Charlie stayed frozen, devastated, while I ran. I couldn’t bear to stand there any longer, above the ruins of his happiness. The dark, empty yard felt like a refuge, though I know at any moment the tracker could swoop down and carry me away. I imagined Charlie looking out the front door, to find only my bag. Would he ever forgive me? Would he forgive himself if he never saw me again?

I’m done with this.

Moving on, Bella makes it to her truck safely. Edward informs her that James heard the last of their argument and decided to leave Charlie alone. They drive away in truck, with Alice following in her Jeep. Emmet jumps into the truck (freaking Bella out in the process).

And then Edward begins to joke about what Bella just said to Charlie. I really wish I wasn’t serious.

“I didn’t realize you were so tired of small-town life,” he said conversationally, and I know he was trying to distract me. “It seemed like you were adjusting fairly well— especially recently. Maybe I was just flattering myself that I was making life more interesting for you.”

“I wasn’t being nice,” I confessed, ignoring his attempt at diversion, looking down at my knees. “That was the same thing my mom said when she left him. You could say I was hitting below the belt.” (p. 396)

Does this girl feel no remorse? I mean, there are a multitude of emotions that Bella should be feeling right now. Guilt, for hurting her father. Fear that she may not live, or that she may not be forgiven. Anger for having her life completely uprooted and being forced to such cruelty. Show something more intense! No emotionally healthy person could get over something like that so quickly.

Oh, right… she’s a sociopath.

Anyway Edward assures Bella that her father will forgive her, and everything will be all right in the end. And then the issue is all but forgotten. In other words, Meyer is pushing legitimately powerful drama out of the way, so we can have more of this:

“But it won’t be all right if I’m not with you,” I whispered.

“We’ll be together again in a few days,” he said, tightening his arm around me. (p. 397)

Excuse me while I cry…

…

Well… moving right along.

They drive to the Cullen’s house, and on the way Edward explains why the hell this tracker vampire is so interested in Bella particularly, since the fact that she’s a super special girl with magical blood and mind powers evidently wouldn’t be enough. Apparently, James has devoted his entire undeath to the hunt, and lives for its challenge and thrill. What could be more challenging or thrilling than fighting your way through a family of vampires to get your prize? Now that he’s started, he’s not likely to stop.

Well, it’s a better than any of the other characters’ motives for stalking Bella.

There’s a little more drama about Bella being worried about Edward, who will stay behind to fight the bad vampires. None of it is particularly interesting. Bella gets manhandled by Emmett.

Emmett had my door open before the truck was stopped; he pulled my out of the seat, tucked me like a football into his vast chest, and ran me through the door. (p. 399)

It’s a fake, no, it’s a quarterback sneak! He leaves the defenders in the dust! Touchdown! Emmett spikes the ball into the inzone and… oh dear. I hope the astro-turf will survive being pressure washed.

It turns out that Laurent is waiting for them at the Cullens’ house. And Laurent explains the situation to us again.

I’m sorry,” he answered. “I was afraid, when your boy there defended her, that it would set him off.”

“Can you stop him?”

Laurent shook his head. “Nothing stops James when he gets started. (p. 399)

Didn’t Edward tell us exactly the same thing two pages ago? Anyway, Laurent goes on to describe how “absolutely lethal” James is. He seems to be scared shitless of the guy, and is refusing to fight against him, even though he would make it an eight-on-two fight.

Don’t underestimate James. He’s got a brilliant mind and unparalleled senses. He’s every bit as comfortable in the human world as you seem to be, and he won’t come at you head on… I’m sorry for what’s been unleashed here. (p. 400)

He won’t come at you head on? I sense some foreshadowing.

Anyway, Laurent leaves, and the Cullens prepare for battle. The plan is to have Bella spirited south by Alice and Jasper, while the rest go and head off the tracker. Part of this involves one of the Cullen ladies switching clothes with Bella to confuse the scents. Rosalie refuses because she’s blond and hateful, but Esme agrees. Bella gets manhandled again (though by a woman this time).

Esme was at my side in half a heartbeat, swinging me up easily into her arms, and dashing up the stairs before I could gasp in shock. (p. 401)

Hey, this wasn’t in the movies! They clearly need to hire a new director, one who will respect the source material and let us see Kristen Stewart be tossed around like a football. Anything less would an insult to this magnificent work of literature.

Esme then forceably undresses Bella. Alice joins them a few seconds later to help Bella redress, and once their clothes have been swapped, the two vampire ladies carry Bella back down the stairs…. Okay, I’m just going to leave it. But once they get downstairs, Carlisle give them all cell phones, and Alice uses her foresight to determine that the plan will work perfectly.

Wow. That’s… really convenient.

Of course, before they leave, Bella and Edward have to have one more intense physical moment. Though, in truth, I don’t know how anything that includes the sentence, “For the shortest second, his lips were icy and hard against mine,” could possibly be considered erotic. I’ll spare you, gentle reader, description number 297 of Edward’s smoldering eyes.

Finally, after a storm of sweet nothings, our romantic leads pull themselves apart. The groups then depart, leaving Bella with Alice and Jasper. Once they get the call confirming that the James and Victoria are accounted for, they leave as well.

I heard nothing, but then Alice stepped through the front door and came towards me with her arms held out.

“May I?” she asked.

“You’re the first one to ask permission.” I smiled wryly.

She lifted me in her slender arms as easily as Emmett had, shielding me protectively, and then we flew out the door, leaving the lights on behind us. (p. 404)

And with that last beautiful bit of lesbian subtext, the chapter comes to a close. I’m Artimaeus, and this it Twilight: Abridged and Annotated.

Comment [11]

I’m back again with more Twilight. At page 400, we finally have an antagonist, a danger, and something resembling a plot. And yet, despite this, there is no action. At page 400, we finally have some tragedy, and a reason for there to be drama. And yet there is no drama. I don’t know what to tell you, aside from the fact that the title of the chapter describes my feelings almost perfectly.

Chapter 20: Impatience

When the chapter opens, we find Bella waking up in a hotel room. At first she’s a little confused, wondering why the walls are so drab and the furniture so sparse, but as her sleep falls away the past night comes flooding back to her.

The gray light, streaking across the cloudless sky, stung my eyes. But I couldn’t close them; when I did, the images that flashed all to vividly, like still slides behind my lids, were unbearable. Charlie’s broken expression— Edward’s brutal snarl, teeth bared— Rosalie’s resentful glare— the Keen eyed scrutiny of the tracker— the dead look in Edward’s eyes after he kissed my that last time… I couldn’t stand to see them. So I fought my weariness and the sun rose higher. (p. 406)

Well, this is better than nothing, I guess. The enormous trauma the Bella has experienced seems to be catching up with her, providing evidence that this character might be more than a robot programmed to self-lubricate in the presence of Edward.

And yet, it’s lacking. This is perhaps because, when the action catches up to the present, the story goes right back to the dull, monotonous state of mind that Bella Swan is trapped in. I feel like I’m making this point over and over again, but Bella has just been through more trauma than most people will ever face in their lives. She has been forced to uproot her life and destroy her relationship with her father, all because a vampire is randomly obsessed with drinking her blood.

Trouble is, those kinds of feelings are hard to write that convincingly, and a bit depressing to boot. Too much, and you venture into wangst. And what if her mental state interferes with the plot? That can’t happen. But we’ve gotta show that all of this shit has caused her to suffer, or else she’ll look like a sociopathic robot… I know, let’s give her nightmares!

This way, the author gets to say “Look, this character is suffering!” without actually having to write any suffering. Congratulations, author. You just took a lazy shortcut that further neutered your story’s drama.

Suffice to say, once the narration catches up to present, the narration is put back on the “boring” setting. Bella describes the room again. The current time is 3:00 AM. She changes out of Esme’s clothes. Ho hum. Alice and Jasper are sitting around watching television. They’ve ordered her room service. And that’s as intense as the action gets.

I ate slowly, watcher her, turning now and then to glance quickly at Jasper. It began to dawn on me that they were too still. They never looked away from the screen, though commercials were playing now. I pushed the tray away, my stomach abruptly uneasy. Alice looked down at me.

“What’s wrong, Alice?” I asked.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Her eyes were wide, honest… I didn’t trust them. (p. 409)

Anyway, it turns out that Alice and Jasper are worried because Carlisle hasn’t called them yet. They try to comfort Bella, but she sees through their false composure. Something is wrong. And somehow, Bella knows it’s all her fault.

“You heard what Laurent said.” My voice was just a whisper, but I was sure they could hear me. “He said James was lethal. What if something goes wrong and they get separated? If something happens to any of them, Carliasle, Emmett… Edward…” I gulped. “If that wild female hurts Esme…” My voice had grown higher, an note of hysteria beginning to rise in it. “How could I live with myself when it’s my fault? None of you should be risking yourselves for me—” (p. 410)

Yes, Bella, people may get hurt. That’s what happens when supernaturally gifted psychopaths decide they want to eat you…

I just don’t get it. Would she prefer they let James eat her? And why is she blaming herself? Point in fact, this situation is not her fault. She was targeted at random, through no action of her own, by an evil, bloodthirsty predator. And yet, playing depressingly to type, she takes all the responsibility on herself and goes into hysterics at the thought that others might want to stick up for her, bringing back her dreary mantra of “I am not worthy”. Yes, it’s one thing to be worried about friends in danger, but quite another to believe that you are not worth protecting.

Besides, she’s already hurt her father about as badly as he could be hurt, and she seem to be living with yourself just fine. The fact that Bella is able to brush this (and all of the other perfectly legitimate reasons she to be a hysterical wreck) aside so easily completely undermines this image of selflessness that Meyer seems so desperately intent on constructing. Of all the things she has to worry about, her relationship with her father, mother, and friends, and her own life, the safety of her immortal vampire guardians (who outnumber the bad guys 5-to-2) shouldn’t eclipse everything else.

Hypocrisy aside, however, it is truly astounding how little self-worth this girl has. When anybody, fictional or real, looks in the mirror, they should see something valuable, something worth fighting for. Of course, just because people should doesn’t mean they always do; everyone grapples with self-esteem issues at one point or another, and hopefully we overcome them. Bella having these feelings is not what I take issue with. They effect real people, and are well worth exploring. The fact that Meyer seems to be trying to pass off unhealthy self-loathing as noble selflessness, however, pisses me off like nothing else.

But onwards. After hearing this story, Alice and Jasper are understandably worried, and try to comfort Bella.

“You are under too much strain as it is; don’t add to it with unnecessary worries. Listen to me!” he ordered, for I had looked away. “Our family is strong. Our only fear is losing you.”

“But why should you—”

Alice interrupted this time, touching my cheek with her cold fingers. “It’s been almost a century that Edward’s been alone. Now he’s found you. You can’t see the changes that we see, we who have been with him so long.” (p. 410)

Don’t worry, Bella, your very existence as a human being is vindicated by Edward. Because whatever problem you may be having, from low self-esteem to predatory vampires, what you really always needed was a girlfriend boyfriend.

But for better or for worse, Bella calms down. Unfortunately, there isn’t much for them to do besides sit in the apartment and wait for the phone call. I don’t know if this was Meyer’s idea of suspense, but if the main character is so bored that she is describing the fabric of the hotel sofas (god, how I wish I was joking), chances are the reader is feeling the same way.

We stayed in the room. Alice called down to the frond desk and asked them to ignore our maid service for now. The windows stayed shut, the TV on, tough no one watched it. At regular intervals, food was delivered to me. The sliver phone resting on Alice’s bag seemed to grow bigger as the hours passed.

My babysitters handled the suspense better than I did. As I fidgeted and paced, they simply grew more still, two statues whose eyes followed me imperceptibly as I moved. I occupied myself by memorizing the room; the striped pattern of the couches, tan, peach, cream, dull gold, and tan again. Sometimes I stared at the abstract prints, randomly finding pictures in the shapes, like I’d found pictures in the clouds as a child. I traced a hand, a woman combing her hair, a cat stretching. (p. 411)

Question: Doesn’t this girl have horrible trauma she could be dwelling on? Feelings about her father to sort out? Anything to do besides describe the ceiling plaster? It’s like she’s trying to imitate J.R.R Tolkien, except instead of an epic landscape, she’s describing a dingy hotel room.

Eventually the monotony is broken by a conversation with Alice, who again reassures Bella that the lack of a phone call means that the plan is working. The Cullens up in Forks are merely worried that James might overhear. Bella decides that she’s being truthful. Then, our protagonist asks a very probing question.

“Tell me then… how do you become a vampire?”

My question caught her off guard. She was quiet. I rolled over to look at her, and her expression seemed ambivalent.

“Edward doesn’t want me to tell you that,” she said firmly, but I sensed she didn’t agree. (p. 413)

How does Bella “sense” all of this? Was she bitten by a radioactive spider or something?

After a little pleading, Alice agrees and explains the process of vampire creation (though for reasons unknown she doesn’t remember he own passage into undeath). Basically, vampires have venom, and if they bite you without actually killing you, you will be transformed after a few days of excruciating pain. Transformations are rare, however, because usually once a vampire bites you they acquire an overpowering desire to drain your blood.

After finishing her explanation, Alice has a vision of a room with mirrors and a wooden floor. She also sees James watching something on a VCR, but neither of these visions give them insight to his location or his plans. Shortly thereafter, Carlisle calls to inform them that James has gotten on an airplane (destination unknown) and Victoria has gone back to Forks to do research on Bella, though there’s little chance that either of them will turn up a lead. Charlie is safe. Nobody is hurt.

But of course, Bella is now excited because she gets to talk to Edward.

“Oh Edward! I was so worried.”

“Bella,” he sighed in frustration, “I told you not to worry about anything but yourself.” (p. 417)

See? Bella is thinking of others. She’s being so selfless. That’s a good thing. See, everybody?

Anyway, from Edward’s deposition it looks like they’ve got all of their bases covered. Although James got away and never strayed close enough to Edward for him to read his mind (how James knew about Edward’s power in the first place is anyone’s guess), the bad guys have no leads. The lovers will be reunited soon. Oh joy. After whispering how much they love each other, they hang up.

Our protagonist returns to Alice and Jasper to find that Alice has sketched out her vision. She doesn’t know what to make of it, but Bella recognizes it as a Ballet studio. Not just any Ballet studio, but the one down the street from her mother’s house. Uh oh…

Bella asks if she can call her mom to give her a warning. Unfortunately, since neither mom nor her fiancee have a cell phone, or left any other sort of contact information (seriously, guys?), apparently the only option they have it to call their home phone and leave a message on the answering machine. Bella does this, telling Renne to call Alice’s cell phone as soon as she gets the message.

Uh… what?

Ok, let’s get this straight. You think that the vampire is going to be in Phoenix very soon, so you leave a message for your mom in Phoenix? First off, if the vampire was gunning for your mother, he’ll know where she lives and when she’s going to return there (the former would be supplied by Victoria’s research, and the latter Charlie told him while you were running away); she’ll be pounced upon long before she gets to check her voicemail. Furthermore, if the vampire visits your house in the near future, you just told him how to contact you any time, anywhere, thereby making hostages much more useful to him.

Why didn’t Bella’s just use email? She and her mother were exchanging emails frequently at the beginning of the book, and this way Renee might get the message in time to steer clear of Phoenix, instead of having to flee from a vampire who’s already there.

But, as usual, the characters are oblivious to their obvious blunder and go back to the exciting things that they were doing…. which was sitting in their hotel room doing nothing. Please let this end…

There are a few more paragraphs of inaction, and then Bella falls asleep, bringing this chapter to a close.

Chapter 21: Phone Call

When Bella wakes back up, Alice is sketching out yet another vision. It’s the same scenario as the last one; James is watching something on a VCR, but this time it’s bright, so Alice can give more details about the environment. That environment just happens to be Bella’s old living room.

The implications of this are not lost on our protagonist.

“But, my mother… he came here for my mother, Alice!” Despite Jasper, the hysteria bubbled up in my voice.”

“Jasper and I will stay till she’s safe.”

“I can’t win, Alice. You can’t Guard everyone I know forever. Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s not tracking me at all. He’ll find someone, he’ll hurt someone I love… Alice, I can’t.” (p. 425)

Well, maybe you shouldn’t have left your contact information on a tape recorder, so he can threaten you any time he wants to.

Anyway, Bella goes on again about how horrible it would be if someone, vampire or human, were to be hurt by James because she didn’t offer herself up like a sacrificial virgin lamb.

There was no escape, no reprieve. I could only see one possible end looming darkly in my future. The only question was how many other people would be hurt before I reached it. (p. 425)

Alone in her room, she tears herself up over the fact that other people might be hurt. She thinks of Edward, who she just learned was flying down to meet them. Perhaps he would be able to set things straight. An incoming phone call informs the group that Edward is going to arrive in less than five hours.

Then the phone rings again. It’s Bella’s mother, and she’s sounding very panicked. Alice hand the phone off to Bella. Her mother only has a chance to call out her name before another voice takes over.

“Be very careful not to say anything until I tell you to.” The voice I heard now was unfamiliar as it was unexpected. It was a man’s tenor voice, a very pleasant, generic voice— the kind of voice that you heard in the background of luxury car commercials. He spoke very quickly.

“Now, I don’t need to hurt your mother, so please do exactly as I say, and she’ll be fine.” He paused for a minute while I listened in mute horror. “That’s very good,” he congratulated. (p. 427)

That’s right, it seems that James got to Renee, and because Bella was stupid enough to leave her contact information sitting on a tape recorder in her own house, the vampire can now call to make threats.

Calmly, the vampire instructs Bella to walk into another room, telling her exactly what to say so she doesn’t blow their cover to Alice. He then asks her whether she can get away from her vampire escort.

“Now I want you to listen very carefully. I’m going to need you to get away fro your friends. Do you think you can do that? Answer yes or no.”

“No”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I was hoping you would be a little more creative than that. Do you think you could get away from them if your mother’s life depended on it? Answer yes or no. (p.428)

I actually thought this sequence was remarkably well done. For once, you can truly feel Bella’s helplessness. In every line of dialogue, the villain dominates the the situation. Bella can not even speak until he give her his permission, until he forces her to whisper words of comfort to a mother that can’t hear, and then arrange her own death. James’s gentle, direct manner throws the horror of the situation in to sharp relief, and the effect is surprisingly chilling.

James tells her to lose Alice and Jasper, go to her mom’s house, and call the number he left there, at which point he will give her further instructions, preferably before noon. Of course, because of Alice’s vision, Bella knows damn well where this will end up.

“It’s important, now, that you don’t make your friends suspicious when you go back to them. Tell them that your mother called, and that you talked her out of coming home for the time being. Now repeat after me, ‘Thank you , mom’. Say it now.” (p. 429)

That, my friends, was the sound of Bella getting pwnd.

Of course, there are some plot holes here, namely that James is assuming an awful lot about Bella that he shouldn’t know. First and foremost, he’s assuming that she’s in Phoenix. I mean, had Bella been clever she would have said that she couldn’t get to her house because she’s halfway across the country. But also, he’s assuming that Bella won’t just spill everything to her vampire friends and organize an ambush. Between Alice’s foresight and Edward’s mind reading, it shouldn’t be too hard to get the drop on him, especially since they know exactly where he’ll be waiting.

But no, Bella is so consumed by guilt and self-loathing that she feels she must fling herself into the jaws of a death.

For I had no choices now but one: to go to the mirrored room and die. I had no guarantees, nothing to give to keep my mother alive. I could only hope that James would be satisfied with winning the game, that beating Edward would be enough. Despair gripped me; there was no way to bargain, nothing I could withhold that could influence him. But I still had no choice. I had to try.

I pushed the terror back as well as I could. My decision was made. It did no good to waste time agonizing over the outcome. I had to think clearly, because Alice and Jasper were waiting for me, and evading them was absolutely essential, and absolutely impossible. (p. 430)

What? What is this? Don’t surrender. Don’t go passively along with whatever he says. Fight back! Or at the very lease, show some doubt, some apprehension apprehension at the prospect of a horribly gruesome death. I mean, does she truly care so little about herself? A few minutes ago she was in hysterics, but now that she’s decided to die she suddenly has the ability to think clearly. What is wrong with this girl?

Coming out of the bathroom, Bella suppresses all of her feelings, deciding that her best shot at ditching her babysitters will be at the airport. She tells Alice that she convinced her mom to stay away from Phoenix, just like James told her to. She then borrows a piece of paper and writes a letter to Edward (though she tells Alice it is for her mother), saying how sorry she is, and how much she loves him, but how she couldn’t bear it if anyone got hurt because of her: more of the same forced, self-effacing gallantry that has been shoved down our throats for the past two chapters.

For all of Bella’s apparent selflessness, I see remarkably little evidence that she’s thinking of others. If she was, she might consider the many people she’d be hurting by getting herself killed off. Of course, since this is a romance novel, most of the focus is on Edward’s loss. But Bella also has friends, both human and vampire, who would presumably like to see her again. She has the relationship with her father to repair (unless she truly wants him to live the rest of his life believing he failed as a father and a husband). And, perhaps most importantly, by giving herself up, Bella would be forcing Renee to watch her only child be brutally murdered. Not to put too fine a point on it, but most parents would prefer death. If you ask me, Bella’s sacrifice doesn’t seem like an act of compassion, but a desperate, suicidal play to rid herself of guilt, regardless of its impact on those who love her.

And this is, of course, ignoring the last 400 pages Bella spent blowing off everybody who wasn’t sparkly or handsome.

In the next article, we will see the climax of the book, where Bella finally confronts James. I use the word “confront” in its broadest possible meaning, since what actually happens is Bella bathes herself in barbecue sauce, splays herself before James like a sacrificial goat, and gets the shit kicked out of her. Ok, they’re no actual barbecue sauce, but there might as well be for all the fight she puts up.

Till then, I’m Artimaeus, signing off.

Comment [10]

Here we are on chapter 22. For those who need reminding, Bella is on the run from a bloodthirsty vampire who wants to eat her. Instead of going after her, he decides to go after people she loves, kidnapping her mother. Bella has decided that her mother’s life is worth more than her own, and so she will give herself up to the hunter. This is it folks. This chapter is where James makes Bella his bitch. And since everyone else has been aspiring solely to be Bella’s bitch for the past 450 pages, the role reversal is downright refreshing. But first we have to get there. I’ve made you all wait 12 weeks for this, so I won’t make you wait any longer. Let’s dive right into Twilight.

Chapter 22: Hide and Seek

The first half of this chapter details Bella’s escape from the Alice and Jasper. I wouldn’t exactly call it an action sequence (basically, she tells her caretakers that she’s going to the bathroom, and makes a break for the door) but it’s better than the two previous chapters (which the characters spent waiting for a phone call). The success of Bella suicidal gambit is suspenseful only by comparison.

. It had taken much less time than I’d thought—all the terror, the despair, the shattering of my heart. The minutes were ticking by more slowly than usual. Jasper still hadn’t come back when I returned to Alice. I was afraid to be in the same room with her, afraid that she would guess… and afraid to hide from her from the same reason.

I would have thought I was far beyond the ability to be surprised, my thoughts tortured and unstable, but I was surprised when I saw Alice gripping the edge with two hands. (p. 433)

And yes, in case I forgot to mention, she’s still taking the whole imminent death thing despicably well.

After finishing her letter to Edward, Bella returns to Alice, who is yet again in a prophetic trance. Turns out, Alice has seen the ballet studio again, and it’s implied (although she tries to hide this fact) that Bella is now present. Why Jasper and Alice don’t confront Bella about this is anyone’s guess, since clearly somebody had to have just made a decision that changed the course of the future. But instead, Jasper uses his power (the telepathic equivalent of Prozac) to calm everybody down, and lets Bella leave the room.

I got ready methodically, concentrating on each little task. I left my hair down, swirling around me, covering my face. The peaceful mood Jasper created worked its way through me and helped me think clearly. Helped me plan. (p. 435)

How… awfully… convenient… Heaven forbid a character suffers consequences for the decision she made. I mean, if Bella just decided that she’s going to die, she should be a bit torn up inside. But instead she uses magic help Bella effortlessly work out her emotions. It’s a total cop out, and the story is worse because of it.

Anyway, with the help of Jasper’s power, Bella manages to spend an entire morning without arousing Alice’s suspicion. They leave for the airport to meet Edward. And then they wait. Without anything better to do (like, I don’t know, coping with imminent death) Bella falls back onto her usual passtime: pining over Edward.

It was amazing how every cell in my body seemed to know he was coming, to long for his coming. (p. 437)

Pffftahahahahahahahaha! Oh god, SMeyer, you slay me.

But yea. Bella tells us how desperately she wants him, and even considers waiting for his plane to touchdown so she could see him one more time before the end. That’s right, when facing her imminent death, her one regret is that she couldn’t see her boyfriend one last time. I am suffocating on the tragedy.

But time is running short, and Bella decides that it is now or never. So what does she do? She asks Jasper to take her to the bathroom. Little does Jasper know, however, that the nearest bathroom conveniently has two exits. Bella goes in one, comes out the other, runs for the door, and is outside before Jasper even realizes she’s gone missing. Once outside, she jumps onto one of the shuttles, which was conveniently waiting for her, and upon getting off, finds a convenient taxi, making this one of the most drama-less escape scenes ever.

Am I the only person who’s noticed that Bella never has to work for anything? Look at her track record. She wanted information about Jacob? She effortlessly seduces him. She wants to be with Edward? Turns out he was madly in love with her from the start. She wants her father to let her out of the house? She effortlessly breaks his heart. She wants to escape her super-powerful, future-seeing vampire guardians? She effortlessly loses them in an airport. Where is the suspense when the main character can do literally anything she wants without breaking a sweat?

But in any case, Bella tosses the cabbie a stack of bills, and they are off.

I exerted myself to maintain control. I was determined not to lose myself at this point, now that my plan was successfully completed. There was no point in indulging in more terror, more anxiety. My path was set. I just had to follow it.

Ok, this is just flat out lazy writing. At least when Jasper was around, it was plausible that Bella could avoid her emotion. It might not have been a strong choice from a narrative perspective, but it made sense in universe. Now, we don’t even have magic. You know what I said in the last chapter about Bella not being a robot? I take it back. Emotions like this can’t just be switched off. This girl is mechanical to the core. Her directive: to facilitate vicarious lubrication.

So, instead of panicking, I closed my eyes and spent the twenty minutes’ drive with Edward.

Oh dear Lord…

I imagined that I had stayed at the airport to meet Edward. I visualized how I would stand on my toes, the sooner to see his face. How quickly, how gracefully he would move through the crowds of people separating us. And then I would run to close those last few feet between us—reckless as always—and I would be in his marble arms, finally safe. (p. 440)

And this goes on for another paragraph and a half. Bella fantasizes about going into hiding with Edward, basking in his presence, and all that good stuff. I guess we’re supposed to feel bad because our romantic leads will never get to be together, but if Edward’s “marble arms” are truly the only thing Bella is missing, I say she should just go ahead and die.

It wouldn’t matter how long we had to hide. To be trapped in a hotel room with him would be a kind of heaven. So many questions I still had for him. I could talk to him forever, never sleeping, never leaving his side. (p. 440)

See, this is what I’m getting at. Meyer wants us to believe that Bella loves her family so much that she’s willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for their safety, but after this, I have a hard time believing that Bella truly cares for anybody aside from her designated love interest. I mean, look at her track record. She’s barely shown any regret for hurting her father. Her “friends”, Mike, Jessica, and Angela, have not been mentioned since their romantic subplots were tied up in chapter 14, and Bella had always treated them like an annoyance in any case. We haven’t heard from Renee since she and Bella exchanged emails back in chapter 3. And to top it all off, as Bella marches towards her untimely end, she fantasizes about ditching them all so she can spend every waking moment with Edward.

What casts Bella’s motivations even further into question is her total lack of doubt and apprehension. If the situation has not been made clear enough, SHE IS GOING TO DIE!. She should be filled with questions about whether this action is right, whether there are any alternatives, whether it will hurt. You know, things that a psychologically healthy person should worry about. The fact that she’s able to march to her death with perfect confidence is flat out ridiculous. Hell, even Jesus had doubts.

In fact, if I may open up a can of worms, I’d like to talk for a minute about Jesus. Without speaking on religious truth, of course, the story of Jesus is an example of a heroic sacrifice done correctly. In general sacrifices are powerful because they are, in some sense, unnatural, playing upon the conflict between the sacrificee’s vitality, on one hand, his love for whatever he is sacrificing himself for, on the other. By emphasizing the former, you prove the strength of the latter. The Christian story takes this to its logical limit, by presenting the sacrificee as God himself. If you’ll pardon a broad overgeneralization of a doctrine many hold sacred, it’s basically saying that the love of humanity trumps the sanctity of god. Powerful, right?

Now, what does this have to do with Bella? A lot, actually. The protagonist may not embody the sanctity of god or anything like this, but we find the death of a person full of strength, charisma, and vitality moving for essentially the same reasons. The problem is that that Bella is a weak character. In place of vitality and charisma, her character is defined by passiveness and self-loathing. She just decided that her life is not worth protecting, and without any kind of resistance or doubt, ran off to die, assuming that everybody who cared about her would happily return to their lives after she’s gone. This isn’t compelling; it’s pathetic.

At best, the conflict is between Bella’s desire to be with Edward and her love for her mother. Unfortunately, the first of these desires is ridiculously shallow, and the second has only existed for two chapters. It throws into sharp relief the fact that this girl has literally nothing in her life besides her sparkly boyfriend-of-two-weeks.

I wish I could put this book down now. Wave the white flag and leave the ending unabridged. But I’ve already come so far. And plus, I’ve gotta see James beat this girl around a little.

“Hey, what was the number?”

The cabbie’s question punctured my fantasy, letting all the colors run out of my lovely delusions. Fear, bleak and hard, was waiting to fill the empty space they left behind.

Hey, that was actually kinda poetic.

“Fifty-eight twenty-one” My voice sounded strangled. The cabbie looked at me, nervous that I was having an episode or something.

“Here we are then.” He was anxious to get me out of the cab, probably hoping I wouldn’t ask for change. (p.441)

When facing death, who the hell would notice something like that?

Anyway, Bella goes to her house and uses the key under the eve to get in. I’m not sure who leaves a key under the eve when they’re going out of town, but whatever. Inside she finds a note by the phone with a number for her to call. She calls it, and James answers, telling her to go to (surprise, surprise!) the ballet studio down the street. She runs from the house, skinning her hands on the pavement as she trips.

Long story short, she reaches the ballet studio. Upon entering, she hears her mother calling to her. But there’s something wrong with her mother’s voice. It seems to be coming from nowhere. Her mother is laughing now. And then Bella notices the TV screen. Uh oh… looks like James didn’t have Bella’s mother at all. He was just using one of the old family videos. And then, our Villain shows up to gloat.

“You don’t sound angry that I tricked you.”

“I’m not.” My sudden high made me brave. What did it matter now? It would soon be over. Charlie and Mom would never be harmed, would never have to fear. I felt almost giddy. Some analytical part of my mind warned me that I was dangerously close to snapping from the stress.

“How odd. You really mean it.” His dark eyes assessed me with interest. The irises were nearly black, with just a hint of ruby around the edges. Thirsty. “I will give your strange coven this much, you humans can be quite interesting. I guess I can see the draw of observing you. It’s amazing—some of you seem to have no sense of your own self-interest at all. (p.445)

GAH! Even the villain thinks this girl is a special snowflake! I am so sick of this. Bella is not interesting. She has self-esteem issues and an inflated sense of personal tragedy… Exactly like every other teenager on the planet! Plenty of people have no sense of their self-interest. Hopefully, they get psychological help. Stephenie Meyer, STOP TRYING TO PASS OFF SELF-LOATHING AS A VIRTUE!!!

And why the hell isn’t she angry? If I had just found out that I was about to die a pointless death, I’d be majorly pissed off. Even if you buy this notion that Bella is a compassionate, selfless soul, her parents and her boyfriend are still going to suffer a great deal because of her death, and she doesn’t give a flying fuck. How are we supposed to root for this girl? The villain has won, and she just doesn’t care. She has given up, thrown in the towel. I can’t believe that Meyer wants us to take this as the ideal female hero, but she just doesn’t leave us any room to doubt her intention.

And yes, I say “female hero” for a reason. Why? Because don’t I believe there is any way in Bella’s actions could possibly have passed for heroism if the hero was a boy. We expect boys to be heroic, valiant, and strong, and we expect girls to be passive, weak, and self-sacrificing. In a story about a boy, we want heroism. In a story about a girl, we want somebody like Bella.

We just suck, don’t we?

But it’s true. Take, for example, the other modern icon of YA literature: Harry Potter. How would he behave in a situation like Bella’s? Well, fortunately, the climax of the Order of the Phoenix, is a easily comparable to Bella’s current predicament. For those who don’t remember (or didn’t read) this is where Voldemort manages to convince Harry that his Godfather has been captured by death eaters and is being held in Department of Mysteries, and Harry, being the reckless, self-important teenager that he is, charges heedlessly to the rescue. Like in Twilight, the whole situation turns out to be a ruse, and when the death eaters pounce, Harry must himself be rescued by stronger, more competent adults.

These similarities throw in the sharp relief the differences between the characters. While both Bella and Harry seem to have a “saving people thing”, Harry goes to the ministry with the intent to fight through the death eaters and rescue his godfather. Bella goes in with the intent to die. When Harry realizes that Voldemort tricked him, he continues to fight to save himself and his friends. Bella is still intent on dying. The point I am trying to make here is that Harry was fighting. He did not go to Volemort and say, “Ok, here I am, all yours, you win, now please let go of Sirius and stop killing people”. Even in Deathly Hallows, when Harry actually does offer his life to Voldemort, it is part of a larger plan to make the villain mortal. It was still an act of defiance. Bella, meanwhile, doesn’t seem to have a defiant bone in her body. Dying, for her, is the ultimate act of compliance. Her struggle against James ended the instant she heard his voice on the phone, and she began to do everything in her power to appease him.

Now really, what about femininity makes surrendering to evil acceptable? Does Meyer expect us to applaud Bella’s surrender, and think, “This is what a heroine does”? Sadly, it seems that large swaths of our culture answer “yes”, that a heroine is supposed to be demure, passive, and compliant, and hold out just long enough for the real (see: male) hero of the story to swoop in and save the day.

God, sometimes it hurts to be a feminist.

But back to the story. For the time being, at least, Edward is nowhere to be seen, and our antagonist has Bella at his mercy. So what does he do? Well, he talks. A lot. For over three pages. First he quips about how quick and easy it was to trick Bella. He then explains, at length, exactly how he was able to track her down.

“I’d heard you say you were going home. At first, I’d never dreamed you meant it. But then I wondered. Humans can be very predictable; they like to be somewhere familiar, somewhere safe. And wouldn’t it be the perfect ploy, to go to the last place you should be when you’re hiding—the place you said you’d be.” (p.446)

Yeah, that’s why going to Phoenix was retarded. But, of course what really gave the game up was when Edward got on a plane to Phoenix.

I’m not kidding. Our vampires are that stupid. Literally, all of this could have been avoided if Edward had just scheduled a connection somewhere, rather than taking a direct flight from Seattle to Phoenix. The fuck.

Anyway, James explains that all he really wants is to fight Edward, so he’s going to murder Bella in the grizzliest way possible, film it, and leave it where Sparkles Glorious is sure to find it. Unfortunately, we already know this will never happen, because that would require Meyer to write an action sequence. It was a valiant effort on James’s part, though.

But before he actually gets down to business, he stops again to tell the story of the one victim who escaped him. Turns out it was Alice, who was transformed into a vampire before James could reach her.

“And she did smell so delicious. I still regret that I never got to taste… she smelled even better than you do. Sorry—I don’t mean to be offensive. You have a very nice smell. Floral, somehow…” (p.448)

I think I speak for readers everywhere when I say:GET ON WITH IT!!!

A crushing blow struck my chest—I felt myself flying backward, and then heard the crunch as my head bashed into the mirrors.

That’s better.

“That’s a very nice effect,” he said, examining the mess of glass, his voice friendly again. “I thought this room would be visually dramatic for my little film. That why I picked this place to meet you. It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

Ugh… less talking, more killing.

Ok, I’ll admit the killing scene is pretty well done. I mean, it’s actually gory. James stomps on Bella’s leg, snapping the bone, smacks her skull against a mirror, lacerating her skin with broken glass. After five pages of the villain acting affable and impotent, this is surprisingly intense. That, combined with the fact that, by now, half of the book’s fans are probably hopping to see this girl get smacked around, makes this scene worthy of my endorsement. Good job, author.

Anyway, Bella lasts for about ten seconds before she loses consciousness. And that, my friends, is the end of the book. It’s over, guys! There is no more. No longer will I have to deal with this protagonist and her freaking lust or her ridiculous whining. Ding dong the witch is dead.

Well, that’s all folks. I hope you had as much fun reading these articles as I had writing them. We all can take some valuable lessons about our culture, and perhaps lost a little faith in humanity along the way. But you know, guys, knowing is half the battle and…

Oh wait… There’s more…

…

………

Chapter 23: The Angel

All right, all right, as you probably already knew, Bella is still alive. She’s just unconscious.

Where I floated, under the dark water, I heard the happiest sound my mind could conjure up—as beautiful, as uplifting, as it was ghastly. It was another snarl; a deeper, wilder roar that rang with fury.

Ugh… Even while struggling for consciousness, delirious with pain, and convinced she’s dead, Bella still is drooling over Edward’s voice. So, yeah. Edward has come to rescue her. The narration is a bit disjointed (and understandably so) but, we hear Edward and Carlisle talk about how badly she’s been injured. She’s broken a few ribs, and Carlisle has his medicine bag. Apparently James bit her hand, and it’s causing her a ridiculous amount of pain. In the background we hear the villain get dispatched, and Edward has to suck the venom from Bella’s hand…

Wait a minute… In the background we hear the villain get dispatched?

Beyond the longed-for sound was another noise—an awful tumult that my mind shied away from. A vicious bass growling, as shocking snapping sound, and a high keening, suddenly breaking off…

THE FUCK? This is all we get for the epic showdown between the good and bad vamps? A two lousy sentences describing the sound he made? What happened to the violence? At least in the movie they had to have a few shots of vampire-on-vampire fisticuffs to trick boys into the theatre. Here, we don’t even get that much. I mean, really, the one practical upshot of having super-powered, weakness-free, Mary Sue vampires is that when they fight each other, it’s sure to be epic. But noooo, we don’t want to have an exciting climax. We want to hear Edward angst about sucking Bella’s blood. Just like the past 200 pages.

Carlisle, I…” Edward hesitated. “I don’t know if I can do that.” There was agony in his beautiful voice again.

“It’s your decision, Edward, either way. I can’t help you.”

Just… Just get it over with already. Do I even need to tell you how the scene goes? Edward is hesitant at first, but then determination blazes in his eyes, and he is able to control himself long enough to suck the venom from Bella’s hand and save her humanity. I’m not sure how he manages this, since his mouth is dripping with venom, and you can’t suck venom out of a wound can’t in any case (imagine trying to suck food coloring out of a wet sponge). But hey, what’s logic compared to true love?

But the plot holes don’t stop there. It seems that Carlisle has her on a morphine drip. I’m not sure how he got ahold of said morphine after getting off an airplane on a sunny day, and I’m pretty sure doctors don’t just carry around morphine with them wherever they go. Wouldn’t that have taken that away from him as he passed through airport security in any case? And it’s not like they were anticipating a medical emergency in any case. And once they realized what was going on, they almost certainly would delay Bella’s rescue in order to ransack a hospital. But hey, little details like that don’t matter, so long as Edward can prove that he loves Bella by conquering his lust, and all the little teeny boppers can imagine falling asleep cradled in his marble arms.

And, I guess If you were interested in how they defeated James, that too bad for you. Meyer dispatched him in two sentences, despite the fact that he was the closest thing this book has to an antagonist. Basically, he became just another excuse to make Edward look chaste and heroic. And what’s even worse, is that this leaves several plot holes unanswered, some of which don’t become apparent until next chapter.

Chapter 24: Impasse.

So Bella wakes up in a hospital, IVs pumping, and a cast on her leg. She’s about to rip out one of her IV drips, but Edward appears beside her bed to comfort her. Aww. Anyway, there are some pretty gaping gaps in Bella’s memory, so Edward tries to explain what the hell just happened, transforming memory gaps into plot holes. But first, he has to tell Bella how tormented with guilt he is because he cares so damn much about her.

“I was almost too late. I could have been too late,” he whispered, his voice tormented. (p. 450)

Yes, yes, you’re tormented. I suppose I should also point out that basically any mention of Edward will still inevitably include and adjective like “exquisite” or “perfect”.

Anyway, Bella is suddenly worried about contacting Charlie and Renee. Why she wasn’t worried about that before she flung herself onto a vampire’s fangs is anybody’s guess, but regardless of Bella’s ridiculously inconsistent character, the plot will fall apart if they don’t find some way to explain Bella’s horrible injuries. Fortunately, the Cullens already called her parents, and gave Bella a plausible alibi. Guess what it is.

“You fell down two flights of stairs and through a window.” He paused. “You have to admit, it could happen.” (p. 459)

Fell down stairs? I mean… do I even have to explain how horribly implausible this is? I’m trying to imagine the architecture of a building that would make this possible. And the fact that her parents buy it is just… just… nobody is that clumsy. I mean, nowhere is the book has her alleged clumsiness caused her injury, unless you count that incident with a tennis racket. Couldn’t you have come up with a better alibi? Like a car accident. Or a Jaguar attack.

Next item for examination is how Edward was able to stop sucking Bella’s blood. Of course, the answer is simply sheer force of will, and the power of love. On a related note, it’s remarkable how blatantly this book is willing to state its own theme, though I guess subtlety was never Meyer’s strong suit.

“He sighed, without returning my gaze, “It was impossible… to stop,” he whispered. “Impossible. But I did.” He looked up finally, with half a smile. “I must love you.” (p. 460)

Yes, yes, abstinence equals love. We get it. Also, I’d like to point out that the word “impossible” is meant to describe what cannot be done. So really, Edward is just being a melodramatic prick when he uses it to describe things that he Just. Freaking. DID! It’s like, Meyer realized that if she didn’t hype Edward’s bloodlust up to impossible levels, the entire story would fall flat. I mean, it’s not like there is any other conflict in the book. Just look what happens to the actual antagonist.

“After I pulled him off you, Emmett and Jasper took care of him.” (p. 461)

…. And that’s all Edward has to say on the subject. In other words, this big bad antagonist, this indomitable tracker who never let a single kill get away from him, this vampire who is so beastly that Laurent wasn’t willing to oppose him in an eight-on-two fight, this guy was quietly dispatched offstage, by two of the Cullens, without any apparent struggle. THE FUCK?

At this rate, they could have simply taken the bad vampires on in the clearing, and ignored all the running across the country nonsense, as the good vamps would have outnumbered the bad vamps two-to-one, with one Cullen left over to escort Bella to safety. And that’s assuming Laurent fought alongside James. Simple math, folks. The trouble is, up till this point, Meyer’s plot has been based on the premise that James is too badass to be confronted head-on, and that it would require the combined effort of the entire family to bring him down. If this is the antagonist you’ve set up, you can’t just have two of the good guys “take care of him” off-screen. It is disrespectful to the reader to string us along on the promise of an epic struggle, only to hand-wave it at the last minute.

But then again, when has Meyer ever let her protagonists struggle for anything? The defeat of James is simply another effortless victory in a long string of effortless victories designed to give Bella everything she ever wanted. Of course, as a wish-fulfillment fantasy, this makes perfect sense. After all, who wants to struggle? Wouldn’t you rather rely on your perfect boyfriend and his perfect family to sort out all of your problems, without any apparent trouble? Just fall back and let them take care of everything. Don’t try to do anything for yourself; that’s sure to lead to trouble. Your only job is to live in blissful indulgence with a perfect man.

Anyway, back at the story. Our leads banter for a while, on such topics as Bella’s irrational (but endearing!) fear of needles, and how much fun Alice had fabricating the evidence of Bella’s “accident”. Eventually, however, their conversation leads to what the fans truly want: kissing. But when Edward leans in for a kiss Bella’s heart literally stops. Literally. I know many people nowadays have taken to using the word “literally” ironically, so let me be perfectly clear: the hospital literally has Bella hooked up to a cardiograph, and she literally flatlines.

I wasn’t so lost in the fog of medicine that I didn’t respond to his touch. The beeping of the monitor jumped around erratically—now he wasn’t the only one who could hear my hear misbehave. […] He leaned in slowly, and the beeping noise accelerated wildly before his lips even touched me. But when they did, though with the most gentle of pressure, they stopped altogether. (p. 463)

So Bella dies of cardiac arrest, bringing this dreary tale to a close. The moral of the story is that love is its own worst enemy.

…

Ok, I’m overusing this joke. But you’d think that after Bella’s seventeenth brush with heart failure she’d stop bouncing back as if it wasn’t a serious medical condition. Anyway, the heart-attack inducing make out session is interrupted by Bella’s mom. Edward is about to give them some privacy, but the thought of him leaving fills Bella with “irrational panic”, so he feigns sleep instead. Bella still feels zero guilt for nearly getting herself killed, and all Renee wants to talk about is how beautiful the Cullens are. So that’s what they talk about for about a page. But then, Renee breaks some important news: Phil got signed, so the family will move to Jacksonville. Bella doesn’t have to live in Forks anymore!

But of course, now that our protagonist has a boyfriend, she doesn’t want to leave. Bella tries to hide her real reason from her mother, which is really strange, considering how close they supposedly are.

I opened my mouth to lie, but her eyes were scrutinizing my face, and I knew she would see through that.

Isn’t that endearing? She’d totally lie her ass off if she thought she could get away with it.

“He’s part of it,” I admitted. No need to confess how big a part. “Have you had a chance to talk with Edward?” (p. 467)

Well, as it turns out, Renee has had a chance to talk to Edward. From her conversations, she’s come to the conclusion that he is hopelessly in love with Bella. Sigh… I guess it’s a bit late for subtlety.

“And how do you feel about him?” She only poorly concealed the raging curiosity in her voice.

I sighed, looking away. As much as I loved my mom, this was not a conversation I wanted to have with her. “I’m pretty crazy about him.” There—that sounded like something a teenager with her first boyfriend might say.

“Well, he seems very nice, and my goodness, he’s incredibly good-looing, but you’re so young… Bella…” Her voice was unsure; as far as I could remember, this was the first time since I was eight that she’d come close to trying to sound like a parental authority. I recognized the resolute-but-firm tone of voice from talks I’d had with her about men.

“I know that, Mom. Don’t worry about it. It’s just a crush,” I soothed her.

“That’s right,” she agreed, easily pleased. (p. 468)

I don’t get it. How is it that, in one scene, Bella is willing to die to save her mother, and in the next she’s telling her to mind her own business and stay out of her life? At the beginning of the book, she described her mother as her best friend. You’d think Bella would want to be open with her, and have issues with lying to her beyond “she’d see right through me”. I mean, it’s understandable that an average teenager would be shy about sharing his/her romantic exploits with her parents, but Bella isn’t supposed to be an average teenager; she’s supposed to be a pure, selfless soul, whose love for others takes precedence over her own life. Her mother should be something more to her than another person to be “easily pleased”. But on the other hand, if Edward shows his love by stalking and kidnapping, I guess it only makes sense that Bella would show love by manipulating and deceiving. I guess they are a perfect match for each other.

Anyway, the conversation drags its way to a close, but not before a grin from Edward causes Bella’s heart to spaz again, bringing in a nurse to investigate. Once Renee leaves, Bella and Edward go back to their conversation. They joke about the fact that the Cullens had to steal a car in order to reach the dance studio in time (which they subsequently burned down), which still doesn’t quite answer how they made it across Phoenix in the early afternoon without revealing themselves in all their sparkling glory. But then Edward drops a bombshell. Apparently he was surprised by the fact that Bella wanted to stay in Forks.

I stared at him uncomprehendingly. “But you’d be stuck inside all day in Florida. You’d only be able to come out at night, just like a real vampire.”

He almost smiled, but not quite. And then his face was grave. “I would stay in Forks, Bella. Or somewhere like it,” he explained. “Someplace where I couldn’t hurt you anymore.” (p. 470)

Of course, Bella freaks out at the thought of Mr. Sparkles leaving her, and has what I can only describe as a panic attack. Gasping, chest pain, the works, made worse by her broken rib.

Don’t leave me,” I begged in a broken voice.

“I won’t,” he promised. “Now relax before I call the nurse back to sedate you.”

But my heart couldn’t slow.

“Bella.” He stroked my face anxiously.” I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here as long as you need me.”

Then why did you say you were leaving her, you giant douche? Edward goes off on a tormented tirade about how everything is his fault, that Bella is in danger, and how he would not have been able to live with himself if he had drained Bella dry. Each day he is in perpetual agony, knowing that his presence puts her in danger. Bla bla bla…

Ok, so Bella is quick to retort that he also saved her life on several other occasions that he wasn’t responsible for, but Edward is too filled with anguish to listen. But Bella presses on, demanding to know why Edward sucked the venom from her, preventing her for becoming a vampire like him.

“It just seems logical… a man and woman have to be somewhat equal… as in, one of them can’t always be swooping in and saving the other one. They have to save each other equally ” (p. 474)

No. I’m sorry, but it’s too late to pull this equality bullcrap. Two sentences doesn’t excuse 470 pages spent indulgently reveling in the land of rescue romance.

“You have saved me,” he said quietly. (p. 474)

Saved him from what? His super strength, eternal youth, and unlimited wealth? Yeah, I bet he was really miserable. Clearly one cannot be happy without a whiny teenage girl to dote on.

“You are my life. You’re the only thing it would hurt me to lose.” I was getting better at this. It was easy to admit how much I needed him. (p. 474)

Well, there you have it. Bella doesn’t give two shits about anybody besides her sparkly boyfriend. She’s even subtle about it. They argue some more, Bella demanding to be turned, Edward trying to find reasons that she should be. Eventually, he manages to find a reason that sticks.

“Charlie?” he asked curtly. “Renee?”

Minutes passed in silence as I struggled to answer his question. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I closed it again. He waited, and his expression became triumphant because he knew I had no true answer.

“Look, that’s not an issue either,” I finally muttered; my voice was as unconvincing as it always was when I lied. “Renee has always made the choices that work for her—she’d want me to do the same. And Charlie’s resilient, he’s used to being on his own. I can’t take care of them forever. I have my own life to live.” (p. 475)

But… what… I just… GAHH!!!

I am past anger. Twenty pages ago, Bella was willing to die for her mother. And now Edward has to remind her that her parents exist. This is absurd. I don’t care how hot her boyfriend is. Wanting to live forever is one thing, but if it comes at the cost of every meaningful relationship you’ve ever had… apparently, these are just not important to our protagonist, who thinks only about her shot at sparkle peen.

Ok… I’m better…

Anyway, they argue some more, Bella bringing up the fact that she’s going to age, and that if she really wanted to, she could go to Alice for some venom. Edward eventually grows weary of the conversation, and calls the nurse to give Bella more pain medication (against her will, I might add). However, this blatant disregard for Bella’s autonomy is ok, because he kisses her and promises to stay with her. And have I mentioned recently how pretty he is?

The story is winding down, and is looks like they are done arguing. They still love each other. But as the meds soothe Bella to sleep, her last words reaffirm her desire to become a vampire, hinting at drama to come.

And that, my friends, is the end of the book proper. There’s still an epilogue to be abridged, which catches up on Bella and Edward a few months later at their junior prom. So here’s to the penultimate chapter of Twilight Abridged and annotated.

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