Twilight. Just...Twilight.

So I read Twilight when it first came out (read: before everyone went insane) and my initial thoughts were: "Meh. Also, I really hate Bella. And Edward is not romantic at all. In fact, he's a little creepy." And then I forgot about it, until it suddenly became hugely popular. I remember not liking Twilight, so I joined some anti-Twilight groups and my curiosity got piqued about Twilight, because I haven't read it for three years and the things the anti-Twilight tangent were talking about COULD NOT BE REAL. Like, I didn't remember the sparkly vampires AT ALL. I just remember there being like 400 pages about Bella and Edward loving each other so much and then a random 100 action filled pages at the end. I also for some reason thought that everyone was supposed to know that Jacob was a werewolf, but we only find that out in the second book, apparently. (Btw, LOVE how the Native Americans are these wild furry werewolf people and the white people are nice, elegant, beautiful, sparkly vampires. I'm surprised no one has mentioned that yet.) And I somewhat remember everyone loving Bella, but I didn't remember how all the boys kept asking her out all the time, and how she hated that. If I had her problems, I would be ecstatic. Anyway, I downloaded Twilight off limewire (no WAY was I going to waste my precious time looking in a library, or my precious money by buying it) and I think I read half of it before I got sick of it and skimmed the rest, and also read this person's amazing parody of it:
http://shinga.livejournal.com/478415.html to get the gist. I was struck by just HOW MUCH this whole book reads like overly long fanfiction. It's like "My Immortal" but with a spellcheck.

So here are a couple of things that stood out:

ARCHAIC WORDS AND PHRASES USED:

Sour grapes
Woolgathering
Holy crow x2
Crabbier
Besotted
I’m bushed
Darn it

I loved, loved, loved the crazy old-person words she used because they provided me with unexpected amusement. Sour grapes? Crabby? And "holy crow", not once, but TWICE? I can't remember the first time she said holy crow, but the second time, I think Edward was driving like 100 miles an hour and they may or may not have been on a precipice. I might have just imagined this. Anyway, I think a normal person would say, "HOLY SHIT EDWARD YOU CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER! STOP DRIVING SO FAST, YOU'LL KILL US!" Instead of just, "holy crow!" And NO ONE says "I'm bushed." I think I have only ever seen that phrase in Archie comics, circa 1956. And "Darn it"? Really? And who even says woolgathering anymore?

One thing I didn't understand was after her car accident, why were the EMT guys taking her temperature? Pretty sure she's not going to get a fever.

PARAGRAPHS THAT MADE ME LAUGH:

I couldn't
allow him to have this level of influence over me. It was pathetic. More than
pathetic, it was unhealthy. (doesn’t stop you for long, does it?)

Gym was brutal. We'd moved on to basketball. My team never passed me the
ball, so that was good, but I fell down a lot. (Seriously, it sounds like an 8 year old’s school journal entry.)

My stomach twisted as I realized what he must have meant. He must see how
absorbed I was by him; he must not want to lead me on… so we couldn't even be
friends… because he wasn't interested in me at all.
Of course he wasn't interested in me, I thought angrily, my eyes stinging — a
delayed reaction to the onions. I wasn't interesting. And he was. Interesting…
and brilliant… and mysterious… and perfect… and beautiful… (Okay, when did she become in love with him? Just like, a page earlier she hated him)

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked, distracted.
"No." I didn't feel like mentioning that my stomach was already full — of
butterflies. (Man oh man. This is what a preteen thinks romance is like.)

"You're dangerous?" I guessed, my pulse quickening as I intuitively realized the
truth of my own words. He was dangerous. He'd been trying to tell me that all
along. (No, really Bella? He’s warned you more than once to stay away from him and it would be better for you. The obvious inferrence would be that he is dangerous somehow, but apparently that never occurred to you.)

She freaks out because someone pricks his finger. Edward has to carry her to the nurse’s office.
"The nurse nodded sagely. "There's always one." (Really? Because I’ve been to two blood drives and no one fainted at the sight of a shitload of their own blood being drained, let alone getting their fingers pricked to test their iron levels.)

Jess was torn between two — one a long, strapless, basic black number, the other
a knee-length electric blue with spaghetti straps. I encouraged her to go with the
blue; why not play up the eyes? Angela chose a pale pink dress that draped
around her tall frame nicely and brought out honey tints in her light brown hair. (The arbitrarily and weirdly specific descriptions of clothes again bring to mind "My Immortal.")

"Oh." I let the subject drop as Jessica returned to show us the rhinestone jewelry
she'd found to match her silver shoes. (RHINESTONES? To match her SHOES? Really? Who matches jewellery to their SHOES?)

"Fine, then. I followed your scent." (How does she not find this odd or disconcerting?)

Edward was shrugging out of his jacket. I suddenly realized that I had never
once noticed what he was wearing — not just tonight, but ever. I just couldn't
seem to look away from his face. I made myself look now, focusing. He was
removing a light beige leather jacket now; underneath he wore an ivory
turtleneck sweater. It fit him snugly, emphasizing how muscular his chest was.
He handed me the jacket, interrupting my ogling. (Ahh, who didn’t see THAT time honoured cliché coming?)

However, my positive opinion of
his [Jacob's] looks was damaged by the first words out of his mouth.
"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" (She's angry because he asked her name? Boo hoo, Bella, someone's interested in you! MY LIFE IS FRIGGIN HARD!)

And I felt all
the more besotted by him. It would cause me physical pain to be separated from
him now.

"You spied on me?" But somehow I couldn't infuse my voice with the proper
outrage. I was flattered. (WHY? WHY ARE YOU FLATTERED??)

"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?"
"Yes," I gulped. (Okay, what? He's going to get mad at her if she gets hurt?)

"He looks at you like… like you're something to eat," he continued, ignoring me.
I choked back the hysteria that threatened to explode, but a small giggle
managed to get out despite my efforts. He glowered at me. I waved and fled to
the locker room. (Okay, why in the HELL does she think this is funny? Her boyfriend wants to EAT HER. EAT HER. Instead of finding this scary, she finds it romantic. I don’t understand.)

STEPHENIE MEYER OBVIOUSLY HAS NOT LIVED IN A SMALL TOWN

-Okay, my school was half the size of Bella’s, and I don’t remember ever being fascinated by a new student, even one from the “big city.”

-"I would be the new girl from the big city, a curiosity, a freak." (No one cares that you’re from the city. Most small town kids HAVE been to a city and they know what it’s like. Not that big a deal.)

-"I'm Isabella Swan," I informed her, and saw the immediate awareness light her
eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of the Chief's flighty
ex-wife, come home at last." (No one cares that you’re a new student, okay? OKAY?)

MY FAVOURITE ADJECTIVES

Unfortunately I didn't keep a comprehensive list, but they include velvet, silken, Godlike, Adonis, marble, etc.

EDWARD’S MOOD SWINGS

"That was for Tyler's sake, not mine. I had to give him his chance." He snickered.
"You…" I gasped. I couldn't think of a bad enough word. It felt like the heat of
my anger should physically burn him, but he only seemed more amused.
"And I'm not pretending you don't exist," he continued.
"So you are trying to irritate me to death? Since Tyler's van didn't do the job?"
Anger flashed in his tawny eyes. His lips pressed into a hard line, all signs of
humor gone.
"Bella, you are utterly absurd," he said, his low voice cold.
"Wait," he called. I kept walking, sloshing angrily through the rain. But he was
next to me, easily keeping pace.
"I'm sorry, that was rude," he said as we walked. I ignored him. "I'm not saying it
isn't true," he continued, "but it was rude to say it, anyway."
"Why won't you leave me alone?" I grumbled.
"I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me," he chuckled. He
seemed to have recovered his good humor.

(Happy, angry, and back to happy. WHAT THE HELL?)

Right after he asks her to go to Seattle and says he’s tired of trying to stay away from her, he says again that she should stay away from him.

Then he invites her to sit with him and then tells her she should stay away from him.

"Enough commentary on my driving," he snapped. "I'm still waiting for your
latest theory."
I bit my lip. He looked down at me, his honey eyes unexpectedly gentle. (Wait, what? He snapped at her and now his eyes are gentle?)

"But Jessica thinks we're going to Seattle together?" He seemed cheered by the
idea.
"No, I told her you canceled on me — which is true."
"No one knows you're with me?" Angrily, now. (Cheered and then angry?)

"Which is exactly why I should. But don't worry. I'm essentially a selfish
creature. I crave your company too much to do what I should."
"I'm glad."
"Don't be!" He withdrew his hand, more gently this time; his voice was harsher
than usual. Harsh for him, still more beautiful than any human voice. It was hard
to keep up — his sudden mood changes left me always a step behind, dazed. (Us too)

"Oh well. He is unbelievably gorgeous." Jessica shrugged as if this excused any
flaws. Which, in her book, it probably did. (And Stephanie meyer’s, apparently)

"So where were we, before I behaved so rudely?" he asked in the gentle
cadences of an earlier century.

EDWARD BEING AN AUTHORITATIVE PRICK

"I think you should eat something." Edward's voice was low, but full of
authority.

"Honestly, I'm not hungry," I insisted, looking up to scrutinize his face. His
expression was unreadable.
"Humor me."
He walked to the door of the restaurant and held it open with an obstinate
expression. Obviously, there would be no further discussion. I walked past him
into the restaurant with a resigned sigh. (GODDAMMIT EDWARD, SHE DOESN’T WANT TO FUCKING EAT!)

"You don't feel dizzy, sick, cold… ?"
"Should I?"
He chuckled at my puzzled tone.
"Well, I'm actually waiting for you to go into shock." His face twisted up into
that perfect crooked smile.
"I don't think that will happen," I said after I could breathe again. "I've always
been very good at repressing unpleasant things."
"Just the same, I'll feel better when you have some sugar and food in you." (okay, she doesn’t have diabetes, nor did she lose a large amount of blood. She was just followed by some freaks. SHE WILL BE FINE.)

"Drink," he ordered.
I sipped at my soda obediently, and then drank more deeply, surprised by how
thirsty I was. I realized I had finished the whole thing when he pushed his glass
toward me. (okay, let her eat and drink WHEN SHE WANTS TO)

"Don't you have a jacket?" His voice was disapproving. (LET HER LIVE, OKAY?)

"I don't have my key with me," I sighed. "I really don't mind walking." What I
minded was losing my time with him.
He shook his head. "Your truck will be here, and the key will be in the ignition
— unless you're afraid someone might steal it." He laughed at the thought.

"But apparently," he interrupted me, "your number wasn't up in Phoenix. So I'd
rather you stayed near me." His eyes did that unfair smoldering thing again.
I couldn't argue, with the eyes or the motivation, and it was a moot point
anyway. "As it happens, I don't mind being alone with you."
"I know," he sighed, brooding. "You should tell Charlie, though."
"Why in the world would I do that?"
His eyes were suddenly fierce. "To give me some small incentive to bring you
back." (First of all, just let her do what she wants, okay? And also, you’re creepy.)

"Pull over," he said as the house, and Charlie, disappeared behind us.
"I can drive," I said through the tears pouring down my cheeks.
His long hands unexpectedly gripped my waist, and his foot pushed mine off the
gas pedal. He pulled me across his lap, wrenching my hands free of the wheel,
and suddenly he was in the driver's seat. The truck didn't swerve an inch.
"You wouldn't be able to find the house," he explained. (She wanted to drive. Apparently you can't let her do anything by herself.)


CRAZY DESCRIPTIONS OF EDWARD


“It was like trying to stare down a destroying angel.”

Possibly my favourite paragraph EVER:

He turned then, with a mocking smile, and I stifled a
gasp. 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.

Closely followed by:
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 like marble, glittering like crystal. (First of all, is he wearing eye shadow? Second, his eyelids can’t be pale and lavender at the same time. Also, scintillating? Really? I was pretty sure I knew what it meant but looked it up anyway, in case I missed a definition that could somehow describe arms. Turns out I was right the first time and it means animated, witty, brilliantly clever. If his arms are clever, there’s a problem with his anatomy.)

As I had just that once before, I smelled his cool breath in
my face. Sweet, delicious, the scent made my mouth water. It was unlike
anything else. Instinctively, unthinkingly, I leaned closer, inhaling. (She’s like, BREATHING IN HIS BREATH. That’s gross.

I could smell the unbearably sweet fragrance coming off his chest. (wtf, his CHEST smells good?)

Edward hadn't moved a fraction of an inch, a carving of Adonis perched on my
faded quilt.



I know this has been beaten to death, but Bella is the most annoying and dependent protagonist I have ever encountered. Usually you're supposed to like the main character, especially a FIRST PERSON main character, because you're seeing their thoughts so you may as well like them. I wanted to beat her head in with a crowbar. All we know about her is that she's clumsy (which feels like a lame attempt to make Bella three dimensional, and fails horribly), she has brown hair (I think?) she's pale, and she loves Edward and the sun. Notice there are no outside interests, other than Edward. She has no ambition, no talents in anything, and no likes or dislikes. She is defined by the man she is with, and what is that teaching the young readers of this book?

And on to Edward. I've read that Smeyer created him as the most perfect man anyone can hope for, and a lot of people are buying that he is perfect. Sure, he's hot. That can only go so far. I can't think of anything about his personality that is a turn on for me, personally. Bella keeps describing him as beautiful. If I was going out with a beautiful man, I would explore the possibility that maybe he's a trannie. Here are a few things about Edward that should tip someone off that he's kind of an ass:

He's a stalker (he watches her sleep, he follows her around, etc. etc.)
He's vain and arrogant (he always looks down on the humans)
He's kind of bipolar (as evidenced above)
He's controlling and possessive (as evidenced above)
He doesn't let Bella have any interests or friends other than him (He hates Jessica and Mike, and later he supposedly breaks her car so she can't go see Jacob, her best friend. I think he also hates Jacob because he takes Bella away from Edward)
HE WANTS TO KILL BELLA.

If a guy confessed to me that when he first met me, he had an uncontrollable urge to take my life, I would be scared. I think anyone would. I would probably run. I've read a bunch of articles in Seventeen and YM and whatnot about dating violence and this is a prime example of a relationship in which you should leave. I remember these crazy guys would always make the girl hang out with them, they wouldn't let her have other friends or interests, they were possessive around other guys, and they would swing between violence and sudden contrition. This is totally Edward. Someone give Bella a Seventeen mag, or better yet, a therapist.

I read somewhere that Twilight was written and published in 6 months. I can only assume that they skipped an editor completely, and the only reason this monstrosity got published was because some publisher knew that little girls would eat this shit up.

Also, I forgot to add the reason that I read all of Twilight. In short, it was desperation. I was at my grandma's house, I had read all my other books, their TV has like 3 channels, and I couldn't go to the town library to use the internet or get other books (It's kind of a longish story, but basically I owed 55 dollars in late fees and for some reason once you hit the maximum, they can't charge you anymore. I had hit the maximum, and if I ever went back they would remember that I owed them money. I don't know why they didn't press the issue because the library people know my grandparents.) If I wasn't in such dire straits, I would have stopped reading after the fiftieth mention of how godlike Edward is. Mostly I just keep thinking about how much better this series would be is Joss Whedon had written it. Basically, he would have killed off either Bella or Edward, and that thought fills me with joy.