Twilight Chapters 15 and 16

Chapter 15- The Cullens

"Edward! You stayed!" I rejoiced, and thoughtlessly threw myself across the
room and into his lap. In the instant that my thoughts caught up with my actions,
I froze, shocked by my own uncontrolled enthusiasm. I stared up at him, afraid
that I had crossed the wrong line.
But he laughed.
"Of course," he answered, startled, but seeming pleased by my reaction. His
hands rubbed my back.
I laid my head cautiously against his shoulder, breathing in the smell of his skin.
"I was sure it was a dream."
There are some strange Freudian vibes in the whole series. I read this somewhere else, but Edward and Bella seem to have more of a father/daughter relationship than anything else. She always sits in his lap, Edward gives her rules and tries to control what he does (and Bella readily complies), Bella seems to almost look up to Edward at times, and it goes on. If you really look at their relationship in depth, it's really weird (and that's IGNORING all the abusive subtext.)

I skipped to the bathroom, my emotions unrecognizable.
She...skipped?

He rocked me for a while in silence, until I noticed that his clothes were
changed, his hair smooth.
See? SEE? This is so WEIRD.

"You left?" I accused, touching the collar of his fresh shirt.
"I could hardly leave in the clothes I came in — what would the neighbors
think?"
I pouted.
She is like a little child, seriously. Also, it's doubtful that the neighbours took note of what he was wearing. And I don't think it will make any difference whether he's wearing different clothes if no one ever noticed him leaving.

His gold eyes grew very 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.
Smeyer has said on more than one occasion that Romeo is impetuous and a hothead and yet...we have these two saying they love each other and "you are my life now" within weeks of meeting. Way to be a hypocrite.

He rocked us back and forth as the room grew lighter.
Us= Bella and her multiple personalities?

"Breakfast time," he said eventually, casually — to prove, I'm sure, that he
remembered all my human frailties.
So I clutched my throat with both hands and stared at him with wide eyes. Shock
crossed his face.
"Kidding!" I snickered. "And you said I couldn't act!"
She is such an idiot. Who, on hearing a vampire announce that he was going to kill you, clutches their throat? Wouldn't you run? Try to fight? As opposed to just stand their like a deer in headlights?

He threw me over his stone shoulder, gently, but with a swiftness that left me
breathless. I protested as he carried me easily down the stairs, but he ignored me.
He sat me right side up on a chair.
And again with the Freudian subtext. Does Smeyer have extreme daddy issues, or something?

"And Jasper making you feel all warm and fuzzy about spilling your guts, don't
forget that."
"You paid attention," he smiled approvingly.
"The infodump was really bad back in chapter 13, but I absorbed some of it."

You know what? I'm going to look at a statue of Adonis to see what Edward looks like.
http://homepage.mac.com/cparada/GML/000Images/aim/adonis5633.jpg
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/be/Adonis3.jpg/399px-Adonis3.jpg

I don't know whether that's a leaf covering his junk in the first one or if his wang really is flower shaped. Anyway...I guess the statues are nice, in a classical kind of way. But I'm not attracted to it or anything. And Adonis isn't really my type, anyway.

I think the Cullens are actually a family of el Chupacabras. After all, they suck the blood of animals.

I ended up in my only skirt — long, khaki-colored, still casual. I put on the dark
blue blouse he'd once complimented.
She sounds like a Hutterite.

"Wrong again," he murmured in my ear. "You are utterly indecent — no one
should look so tempting, it's not fair."
Dear Lord, please let me die.

"Bella?" His voice was alarmed as he caught me and held me up.
"You… made… me… faint," I accused him dizzily.
"What am I going to do with you?" he groaned in exasperation. "Yesterday I kiss
you, and you attack me! Today you pass out on me!"
I laughed weakly, letting his arms support me while my head spun.
"So much for being good at everything," he sighed.
"That's the problem." I was still dizzy. "You're too good. Far, far too good."
I take it back. Let me die NOW.

Stop fucking chuckline, buddy.

I was startled to feel Edward stiffen at my side.
Tee hee.

WHERE THE HELL IS EMMETT?

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.
Come ON. He's not MOZART, for God's sake.
I bet he's playing Heart and Souls and Alice is playing the second part but she's moving around so fast that Bella can't see her.

"You're human." He shrugged. "She [Rosalie] wishes that she were, too."
Carlisle turned Rosalie. We also know from Breaking Dawn that she desperately wants children. Now she can't have any and she has to live with that knowledge for an eternity. Wouldn't she at least be a LITTLE pissed at Carlisle? I JUST WANT TO UNDERSTAND.

"Are happy to see me happy. Actually, Esme wouldn't care if you had a third eye
and webbed feet. All this time she's been worried about me, afraid that there was
something missing from my essential makeup, that I was too young when
Carlisle changed me… She's ecstatic. Every time I touch you, she just about
chokes with satisfaction."
This reminds me of Victorian mothers who would have their daughters marry an abusive dude with a hunchback just to get them married off. Smeyer's thinking is just so archaic.

"I have to, because I'm going to be a little… overbearingly protective over the
next few days — or weeks — and I wouldn't want you to think I'm naturally a tyrant."
Lolol. Wouldn't want to think THAT!

The song he was still playing, my song, drifted to an end, the final chords
shifting to a more melancholy key. The last note hovered poignantly in the
silence.
You can totally tell she doesn't know anything about the piano at all. It seems like she's drawing on all the musical words she knows and putting them together in the hopes that it will sound eloquent.

He touched the corner of my eye, trapping one [a tear] I missed. He lifted his finger,
examining the drop of moisture broodingly. Then, so quickly I couldn't be
positive that he really did, he put his finger to his mouth to taste it.
Oh, dear GOD. WHAT? WTF? WHAT IS THIS? AL;KSDFHAILUDGFLASF

"Carlisle was born in London, in the sixteen-forties, he believes. Time wasn't
marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before
Cromwell's rule, though."
Yay, history lesson!

Infodump Carlisle backstory alert. I don't care.