Last year (YiB 2009, #5), I went against my better judgment and read Twilight to see what all the fuss was about. Based on what I’d gleaned from the pop culture currents, I was pretty sure it wasn’t something that was going to appeal to me. And, I was basically right. For many reasons, I didn’t think it was particularly good reading.
However, overcome by boredom, masochistic tendencies, and with more than a little bit of morbid curiosity, this week I read the sequel, New Moon. I thought it was, in a lot of ways, worse than it’s predecessor – short on plot, high on melodrama, with attempts at world-building that felt more like amateurish Underworld fan fiction with a Mary Sue POV than a bestselling pop phenomenon. It also continued, and increased, the anti-feminist and pro-patriarchy themes that continue to make me so uncomfortable.
I recognize that part of this is because these books are simply not written for someone like me. However, as I read this one, I started to maybe develop some theories as to why these works do appeal to so many people.
I imagine that Meyer’s one great success with these books is that she seems to have captured a bit of what I imagine is the essence of what it’s like to be a pre-teen girl. It’s all blustery angsty melodrama at every turn; when her stalkery boyfriend kicks her to the curb (out of love, apparently), Bella wallows in depression for months. It’s exaggerated slightly, but I guess I can see this as being the way the target audience reacts to things – any setback, for some young girls, feels like “the end of the world.” In that regard, I guess a lot of young readers can see themselves in Bella – the fact that the character is pretty much otherwise a blank canvas the reader can paste herself onto only helps this along.
I guess that covers the kids…more troublesome are the so-called “Twilight Moms”: all the women around my age who swoon over the “romance” angle, though they really ought to know better. Despite the fact that the relationships central to this story are clearly not healthy, these women loudly and vehemently hold them up as good examples for which to aspire.
I wonder if their affection doesn’t have more to do with tapping into memories or idealized impressions of youthful infatuation, when not having some random boy’s attention crushed them emotionally, and it’s a little bit of wish fulfillment to imagine themselves as Bella, who’s nothing special, but still has both the golden god and sensitive nature boy both mooning over them. Related to this nostalgia is probably a longing for the potential of youth, when life was full of possibilities, before they got started on their path adulthood and day-to-day tedium.
So, I kind of understand the whys of people enjoying this, but there are implications I’m still terribly uncomfortable with. Paramount is the message it imparts about a woman’s role and place in society. Bella totally defines herself in terms of the man she’s with (or not with); at one point in NM, Bella offers up the following in an attempt to come to terms with Edward leaving her:
It was depressing to realize that I wasn’t the heroine anymore, that my story was over.
It really bothers me that she can’t conceive her life as worth anything without the influence of a man to validate her, but even more that the book continually reinforces this as a valid way of feeling. This isn’t helped by the fact that Bella has no defining characteristics other than her infatuation with Edward; She doesn’t have a life of her own when he’s out of the picture. And Edward, when he’s with her, tends to encourage this dependence on his influence, stalking her “for her own good,” regulating who she associates with, acting generally like a controlling asshole and swooping in to “protect” her from her “baser” urges. Which Bella passively lets him get away with because she “loves” him (read: she’s afraid if she doesn’t please him, he’ll go away and leave her worthless again).
This bit’s actually interesting – one way Meyer almost plays with expectations is that contrary to cliché, Bella’s actually the sexual aggressor in the relationship* – well, not literally sexual, but the whole wanting Edward to “vamp” her while she’s still young and nubile isn’t that hard of a metaphor to grasp**. Edward’s the abstinence vampire gatekeeper here, defying the tradition where the woman are expected to shoulder both the responsibility of remaining chaste and pure while at the same time keeping the man’s impulses in check, because he can’t be expected to do it himself. Expectations are restored however, as Edward’s refusals to do anything in that general area before they’re properly married are portrayed primarily as “oh, silly non-rational woman, let the powerful man make all those difficult decisions for you, Ha!”, restoring the patriarchal party line, thus earning Twilight the seal of approval from conservative authority figures (despite their rejection of other YA fantasy IP) despite the near constant presence of “demonic” elements such as vampires and werewolves** in the text.
There’s probably more there, and a lot of people have written some really good serious pieces (and some pretty funny ones) about it. I don’t have the inclination for more in-depth literary analysis right now.
As I said, this thing just really isn’t for me; I’m not wired to tap into the personal or nostalgic resonance it’s sending out. Also, the characters are bland, the actual composition is shoddy and of what I consider low quality. But mostly, it’s because I can’t get behind the messages inherent in this text so far (not that I expect it gets even worse in the next two volumes, given what I’ve heard). I like my female protagonists a little more empowered, and I’m not comfortable with the worldview that a woman should be totally dependent on a man for anything – I’ve always found it disconcerting when I’ve encountered women who tend to radically shift in personality depending on the man they’re currently with, and seem to have no particular interests independent of the relationship, or outside of certain approved societal constraints (it’s really the same thing – it’s the “man” or it’s “The Man” – some guy or the patriarchy), and also the idea that controlling sorts of men that behave like Edward do aren’t the sorts of partners women really ought to be seeking out.
I do know a lot of people who appear to subscribe to certain pieces this worldview, perhaps that’s why a lot of those same people are really into this series. However, I also know that these aren’t the kind of ideas I can really support in good conscience, and I certainly don’t want my kids, especially my daughters, to ever be told that such a worldview was a good idea.
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* – this is one area where the producers of the film of the book got something right. Whatever else you can say about Kristen Stewart (I’ve not seen her in much, but I hear The Runaways isn’t bad), she honestly looks like she’s ready to tear Pattinson’s pants off with her teeth through much of that film (that’s probably because she really was going to do exactly that after the scene wrapped and they got back to their trailers); that thing she does where she bites her lip…gotta say, kinda sexy.
** – The most fun you can have with New Moon is to willfully ignore context when Bella teases Edward about how if he won’t [vamp] her, maybe his hot psychic sister will. ♪Bow Chicka Bow Wow♪
*** – Notably, many people have commented on the fact that Meyer vampires, with their sparkling and such, aren’t really vampires. Few people, however, note that Meyer werewolves, lacking the whole “infected with lycanthropy” business and with no connection to lunar cycles, aren’t so much werewolves as they are naturalistic shaman shape-changers or skinwalkers. Why yes, I am a pendant.
