Twilight: Alluring or Accidental?

Twilight: Alluring or Accidental? NOTE: What you are about to read cannot be subject to assumption. I was a greatly devoted “Twilight” fan all through middle school, and since then have changed my mind gradually, as I continue to consider the cons and pros of the series; this is merely an analysis of where the first book in this popular series really got its fame. And before you get ideas to leave biased reviews, be warned that this review will end negatively; if you are a die-hard “Twilight” fan and cannot stand to have criticism of your favorite book placed before your eyes, please refrain from reading any further. I am simply expressing an in-depth opinion on a piece of modern literature.

One can barely walk into a bookstore anymore without seeing the face of a certain novel. This novel’s cover is familiar, easily recognizable, and to the point - a pair of alabaster-pale hands clutching an apple, holding it out as though seducing the reader to come and take a bite. This image is pasted onto the cover of the world’s latest bestseller’s-list phenomenon: “Twilight,” by Stephenie Meyer, is a paranormal romantic tale that could easily be mistaken for a formulaic Romeo-and-Juliet story if the fanbase did not so vehemently insist that it is a one-of-a-kind, well-written novel. The question is, just how deserving is the Twilight “saga” of its fame? What is the stem of its seduction? Perhaps the book can speak for itself.

There is one obvious hint as to whether or not “Twilight” has genuine appeal, and that is the fanbase itself. In the last several years, the series has turned into, not a series, but a wildly-growing franchise. Halloween “vampire” makeup now comes complete with a small phial of glitter, Twilight-garments are being sold and worn everywhere, there is a movie with plans for a sequel, and, not one, but two soundtracks to the film; all this goes along with four books in the series, which altogether clock in at well over two thousand pages, each sequel significantly longer than the one before. Who follows, buys, and supports all this merchandise and hype? The obvious answer is the fans.

Anyone who has ever said anything negative about “Twilight” in the presence of a rabid fan (fanatics are often called “Twi-hards” or, to critics and haters who prefer not to mince words, “Twi-tards” - note that the author of this review does not condone derogatory language in any way) will know just how combative the saga’s devotees can become. If a skeptic denies a love of “Twilight,” or announces a hatred of it, near the more fanatical Twilight-lovers, the critic might be met with expressions of horror, squeals of dismay, or reckless arguments to the contrary. Some (though not all) fans might immediately spring up to defend the authoress, the writing, the characters, or to simply rant about what they personally think of the series. Surely such devoted fans must have a reason for loving the series more than Christians love the Bible. The answer can be found in the plot.

The story begins simply and innocently enough. It opens with the protagonist, Isabella “Bella” Swan, on her way to the airport with her mother. Meyer explains later on, with relative ease and acceptable flow, that Renee and Charlie, Bella’s parents, divorced very early in Bella’s childhood, and that Renee remarried to a frequently-traveling husband, whom she wishes to spend more time with. Bella sacrifices the sunny town of Phoenix to make her way up to Forks, Washington, located on the Olympic Peninsula, where she will live with her father Chief-of-Police Charlie Swan. Forks is an existing place in real life, and it is a small, secluded town that receives more average precipitation than all or most places in America. (It should be noted that since “Twilight’s” burst into stardom, Forks has celebrated “Stephenie Meyer day.”) Bella has apparently been to Forks previously, but there is never much emphasis on this and she has never gone there to stay, so understandably she is afraid of the monumental change that this small town will be from Phoenix, Arizona.

Bella goes on to say that she has never had any or many good friends, that her one confidant was her mother, and that she will probably not fit in at her new high school. However, entering the school as a junior, she is instantly beloved by everybody. Upwards of three boys immediately fall in love with her, yet somehow, most of the girls seem to dislike her even while acting friendly. Bella is thoroughly annoyed and embarrassed by all of this attention, but her eye is caught by a family of startlingly pale but beautiful students, the Cullens. Enter a pivotal plot point - Edward Cullen, the only single Cullen (the rest were adopted by Carlisle and Esme Cullen, and are in relationships with each other). Bella finds him alarmingly attractive, and when they have biology class together, she walks over to take the only empty seat, which happens to be beside him. Edward promptly vomits in his mouth and leaves school for a week. Bella is adorably confused.

Of course, the reader is already aware that the “family” is actually a coven of vampires; the book says so on the back cover, so there is no mystery about it. Yet, when Edward returns to school, he is far more agreeable towards Bella, if not incredibly outgoing or friendly. After they first have a casual conversation, Edward saves Bella’s life several times. First, as one of her suitor’s cars slips on the ice, he pulls her out of the way and stops the sliding car, though injuring the driver in the process. Near this point in time, their biology class does blood testing (Edward skips class that day, for obvious reasons), and it is established that Bella faints at the sight - or rather, the smell - of blood, thoroughly amusing Edward. After this, Bella goes shopping with her friends in Port Angeles, a nearby town. As she heads to a bookstore alone, she is almost sexually assaulted, but is once again saved dramatically by a deadly-furious Edward, who rescues her using his incredible James Bond car-stunt skills.

After this, he buys her dinner to ensure that she does not go into shock; during that time, it is revealed that Edward can read minds, and he almost says outright that he is a vampire. Regrettably, it seems that the book’s concept of time slipped; in the course of a five-minute conversation, the protagonists were able to order, eat, and pay for a restaurant dinner. But this is a small matter.

Bella Swan had indeed previously conceived a vampire theory, brought on by asking Jacob Black (a younger teenage boy of the Quileute tribe on the peninsula) about tribal legends; he informs her of the “cold ones,” a phrase usually put to refrigerated beer, but that here apparently applies to vampires. The somewhat naive and utterly enchanted Jacob explains the cold ones’ relationship to werewolves, but Bella is only interested in hearing about what the Cullens apparently are, and Edward solidifies this theory on the drive home from Port Angeles.

Shortly after this, Edward reveals to Bella that many myths about vampires are untrue - mostly, that vampires do not die in sunlight, but their skin sparkles (see “bottled skin glitter,” now available at Hot Topic - or it would be if it weren’t sold out already). This is why the Cullens have opted to go to Forks, which is evidently the least-sunny place on the planet, and why they cannot really go out into the sun; they would attract too much attention. (It is never explained precisely what they would do if discovered. Would they simply leave the town as discreetly as possible, or kill off all witnesses first? The world may never know.) He demonstrates his own sparkling skin by taking her to a secluded meadow deep in the Hoh forest and taking off his shirt; it is in this meadow where he also tells her that her blood is incredibly tempting to him, to the point at which he would consider killing off a room full of young witnesses just to drink her blood ( this temptation occurred in biology class; remember when Edward nearly vomited in his mouth and left school for a week? That was Bella’s fault).

Heroin references disregarded, it is around this point in the series where readers are thrown off a little. Vampires that aren’t actually physically affected by sunlight? Meyer has been deviating a little from mythology, but that can be dismissed as just a little originality. Is denying one of the most iconic characteristics of the vampire going a little too far? Many critics of the series seem to think so.

And after this revelation, Edward kisses Bella; the book’s plot seems to dissolve from there, diving ear-deep into pages upon pages of romantic fluff. By now the book is over halfway done, and active readers are becoming confused. It may be fun to sigh over the beautiful Edward for a little while, but when is the actual plot going to crop up? Is the entire book just going to be a high-school romance with a few vampires thrown in?

Wrong again. On page 375 out of 500 total, the nomadic vampires turn up: James, Victoria, and Laurent come to town. James, an obsessive “hunter,” spots Bella with the Cullens and decides he wants to suck her dry. Of course, the Cullens are having none of it. In the ultimate climax of the novel, the Cullens try frantically to get Bella to safety while James stalks her, but eventually he calls in to tell her that he has her mother and wants her to come to him alone if Renee is to survive. Bella complies unthinkingly, only to discover that James does not have Renee after all. The sinister vampire then proceeds to beat the stuffing out of her, stopping only when the Cullens, complete with Edward, arrive to kill and burn him. After her rescue, in which she was severely injured and in critical condition, Bella heals in time for Edward to take her to prom.

Essentially, the plot cannot possibly be what draws so many fans to the novel, because from James’s arrival to Bella’s rescue, the “chase” is rushed and sloppily-written, as though Meyer cannot wait to get back to the fluffy romance. The previous 375 pages, while Bella attracts Edward, he attracts her, and they fall into a somewhat-dangerous vampire romance, cannot be construed as a plot in any way, and the thread with the nomads clocks in at under 90 pages; a sadly rushed attempt at a climax, during which the reader may feel little to no worry or suspense. The book could have easily been brought down to 150 pages or less.

So what exactly is Meyer’s secret? Does it lie in the writing? The simple and obvious answer is no. Though Meyer was clearly good enough to get her book and its three sequels published, her writing is by no means extraordinary. Her sentences are often poorly-constructed, and half of the book consists of adjectives; much of it is downright amateur and none of the comparisons, descriptions, or dialogue are original. Essentially, the writing is not horrific, but it is uninspired.

So now a different solution arises: the appeal lies in “Twilight’s” characters. It is fairly simple to pick them apart. Isabella Swan is meant to be an average, everyday girl who is incidentally attractive enough to gain the affections of half the boys she meets. However, she is unaware of her own beauty since she is an incredibly humble character to the point of martyrdom. She reads classical books and often enjoys classical music such as Debussy, thus proving how much of a maverick she is. As “Midnight Sun,” a copy of “Twilight” from Edward’s point of view, was leaked onto the internet, it has become an established fact that Edward thinks of her as selfless or self-sacrificing. She downplays any pain or illness she might have or feel, sometimes frustrating her friends. Also, she can hardly go a page without complaining about her own clumsiness, which is not a flaw so much as it is an adorable (and perhaps somewhat misogynistic) quirk.

She seems to cry and faint easily, even in the first book alone; the sob-o-meter skyrockets in later books. She is also immune to things that no one has ever been immune to, such as vampire abilities and other normal weaknesses (see Breaking Dawn). Meyer herself has said that Bella’s “tragic flaw” is her “lack of self-knowledge,” which would have apparently saved everyone heartbreak, and yet in the series, this “heartbreak” is almost always attributed to overzealous suitors rather than Bella herself. Bella claims to be good at blocking out “unpleasant things,” and evidently, nearly being a victim of sexual assault qualifies as unpleasant, whereas being left by her boyfriend is so much more astonishingly devastating that it requires its own category of psychological diagnosis (see: New Moon).

Bella does not seem to have many tangible flaws; she is not a very substantial character in herself. She is made out to be a strong, mature woman while actually being a very weak and dependent character. In fact, some people argue that she is the textbook definition of a “mary-sue,” or a fictional character who is made out to be exceptional or overly flawless or perfect; otherwise, a character around which everything is ultimately self-serving (the death of a parent serves to garner sympathy from the reader, etc.), whose perception is identical to reality, or who frequently exhibits displays of angst or damsel-in-distress behavior. Then again, she is the main character, and as the story is told from first person, it is harder for the reader to identify with her; chances are that Meyer projected herself into the character while writing, even though the insists that she wanted the reader to be able to step into Bella’s shoes. This is only the case if the reader is fantasizing.

Edward Cullen’s gorgeousness and flawlessness, on the other hand, is not even slightly disguised. He is described constantly as beautiful, a god among men, but this is done so incessantly that there is a point when some readers will be urging the storyline to advance rather than describe his hair or skin or eyes one more time. Over the course of the story, Edward makes Bella (and the fans) swoon multiple times, and at one point, he kisses her and her heart literally stops. His voice is described as “velvety,” his hair is “bronze,” his skin is “alabaster,” his eyes are “liquid topaz” or sometimes “onyx,” and he is incredibly intelligent and gentlemanly; yet, for all this, Edward Cullen is as much of a martyr as Bella herself. He agonizes constantly over how it is wrong or somehow sinful for him to love her, how he fears that he will hurt her or put her in danger in some way, how he knows that he is going to hell because he has murdered and sinned so much. This is known as angst, and excessive amounts of it are generally discouraged in literature; martyrdom is just as insufferable in books as it is in real life.

Meyer claims that Edward’s “tragic flaw” is overreaction, because he goes too far to extremes to try and accomplish one thing or another. Regrettably, this is a faux-flaw, like Bella’s clumsiness. Saying that a character overreacts too much is similar to saying that a character cares too much or becomes too attached to people; to the jaded eye, it is not a flaw so much as it is a mild and barely-hindering weakness, not something worthy of much attention. Edward may cause trouble this way, but when he “overreacts” to something, it is rarely a mistake; it is simply caution, as he is always looking out for Bella’s well-being (she appears incapable of doing so herself).

In response to many fans who argue that the characters are very flawed, allow me: a “flaw” is something that noticeably hinders or detracts appeal from a character. If Edward had a debilitating phobia or a tendency to be petty or selfish, this would be a flaw; Bella’s stubbornness is her one and only genuine flaw, but it is exaggerated so much that it becomes an excuse for martyrdom (see: Breaking Dawn). This is why Jacob Black is the most developed character in the series; for the better part of the first two books, he is overeager and naive, and for the remaining two, he is often arrogant, petty, overbearing, or pointlessly cruel. These are genuine flaws that trouble him and cause him to lose his appeal at times. Continuing on “Twilight’s” characters:

As protagonists, the two are uninteresting and uninterested. Edward Cullen is appealing because he is evidently the ideal boyfriend, a polite, intelligent, and gorgeous individual who will love a girl unconditionally; perhaps this is why the larger parts of Meyer’s audience are young females. Strangely, in spite of being the ideal boyfriend, he seems to frequently bully Bella even in “Twilight.” But this is portrayed as comic relief, an aspect which is almost disturbing considering how some of his domineering actions might occur realistically in abusive relationships. Some of said actions are not abusive, but downright creepy; mid-book, it is revealed that Edward has been climbing up to her window and watching her sleep for weeks. To any sane person, this would be grounds for scrutiny and a restraining order, but Bella is far too enchanted to consider either.

These are only two characters in “Twilight,” but they are enough to determine that the characters are not what draws people to the book, although it is plausible that people read it simply to sigh over the good-looking men. But is there anything else about this book that could be appealing to more jaded readers?

Perhaps it is the unique representation of the vampires themselves. Instead of dying (traditional) or at least losing strength in sunlight (as in “Dracula”), these vampires sparkle when they come in contact with the sun. A vampire cannot be killed with a wooden stake, cannot be burned with holy items, or killed by any other traditional methods of slaying; rather, a “Twilight” vampire can only be killed by being dismembered and burned. They do not even have to rely on human blood; simply blood in general, being why the Cullens are “vegetarian vampires” and hunt animals rather than humans. But this does not seem like originality at all, come to think of it. It seems like misrepresentation of established tradition. In fact, Meyer has admitted that she did little to no research on vampires while writing these books. Her “originality” only shows how little she knows about vampire mythology; her “originality” was apparently a complete accident.

The plain-and-simple answer is... no. There is nothing about this series that is overall appealing when seen from a more critical standpoint. There is a target audience of young readers and females, and if at any point the reader tries to find any substance in these books, any suggestion of any tangible presence can generally be drowned out by a single analytical counter. “Twilight,” while a phenomenon in terms of being a worldwide bestseller, is insubstantial and uninteresting. It is not the worst thing ever to hit the bestseller’s list, but neither does it truly have the quality to deserve its international fame. I condone Stephenie Meyer for being able to publish the first full-length fiction novel she has ever written, but at the same time, I wonder what slated it as good enough to be published in the first place. Will I be assassinated for writing this review? Most likely, and yet, there is something about bestsellers that simply attracts criticism. I am that criticism; I speak for the trees. I speak for the trees cut down to manufacture books like this one. Books that, in retrospect, might indeed have been better off remaining stored in the author’s dreams.

Latest reviews