Chapter 10: Interrogations

217 pages in...

We're past the 200 pg mark. Yaaaaay. ::weakly flings confetti::

Chapter 10 features more cyclical banter between Edward and Bella, when Edward's car materializes out of the mist the next morning to take Bella to school. He gives her a "choice" (197) to say no (as if she could refuse him), and once at school, Bella finds herself cornered by Jessica, who naturally wants to know all the juicy details about what's going on between her and Edward. Then there's some really weird stuff about Edward reading Jessica's mind so that he can spy on Bella, an instance where Edward likens eating human food to eating dirt, and then goes more into detail about his hunting habits. (Um. He eats mountain lion. That's his favorite snack. God's truth.) Edward repeats his "I'm dangerous; stay away from me" song-and-dance and tells Bella that she needs "a healthy dose of fear" (216) for her own good, but Bella is as obsessive as always.

I'm going to do something a little different for this chapter. The CHARACTER/PLOT/LANGUAGE structure of my posts is starting to break down a little, mostly because these elements rely so heavily on one another, and I'm far enough into the novel now that those categories are deeply intertwined. Poorly-chosen language affects character development, unlikable or illogical characters affect plot development...etc. etc. On a prose level, Meyer chooses words that make me go "Whaaa?" such as in this chapter, when Edward "[shakes] his head in disgust" (213) when Bella criticizes his driving (Disgust? He's disgusted with her?), and in the previous chapter, when he is "appalled" (190) to see Bella crying. This is a language problem, but it also translates into a character problem, because these characters are depicted in such extremes that it's hard for me to take them seriously. Also, Bella has developed a heart murmur by being around Edward (193 and 197).

I could pick and pick and pick at small things like this, but this week, I'm going to try to broaden my scope. I'm going to talk about three glaring contradictions in this book that have been bothering me. Do people not see these contradictions, or do the contradictions actually work to the book's advantage?

So let's do this then.
This is the contradiction that bothers me the most. I'm being asked to see Edward as the most desirable thing in Bella's universe and the person with the most weight to bear. We know this because of an interaction Bella has with the bubbly (and frankly more likable) Jessica on pg 204.

"'[Edward] is unbelievably gorgeous.' Jessica shrugged as if this excused any flaws. Which, in her book, it probably did. [No irony here. None. Nada. Zip.]
'There's a lot more to him than that.'
'Really? Like what?' [Yes, Bella, by all means educate us on this matter]
...
'I can't explain it right [of course you can't]...but he's even more unbelievable behind the face.' The vampire who wanted to be good -- who ran around saving people's lives so he wouldn't be a monster..."

Okay. Yeah. Edward is good because he refrains from killing people and eating them. I think most of us can agree that non-serial-murder is a good deed. But what Bella purposefully overlooks in her statement is that Edward runs around saving BELLA, and I don't think he does that so that he won't be a monster; the story seems to want us to think it's because he's in love with her. He admitted as much himself: "I've never tried to keep a specific person alive before" (174), and I have a hard time imagining he's ever had the urge to save other people.

I know I shouldn't expect moral complexity from an escapist novel like this one, and I should feel good that Meyer has down the basics, like "Don't kill anyone." But as an upstanding non-serial-murderer, all Edward seems to do is wander around the school allowing everyone to absorb his attractiveness, feeling inexplicably protective about one other person, who's also kind of a waste of space.

Edward also has no reservations about reading people's personal thoughts. It's not even really a question of whether or not he should invade people's privacy in this way.

This one is less troubling to me because I understand Meyer's impulse. Edward complains to Bella about how "ostentatious" (199) his sister Rosalie's red convertible is and how his family usually tries to blend in. And there have been other moments when Edward seems oblivious to the way he "dazzles" other people, which I guess is supposed to be charming. "It's not your fault," Bella tells him. "You can't help it" (209).

But the thing is, he COULD help it to some degree. There's this tremendous issue about the crazy way Edward's family drives (apparently, Meyer doesn't understand that half of the reason you mind the speed limit is for the safety of OTHER people, not just yourself), dress (all designer labels), speak and carry themselves (Edward talks like he's from another century; I can't say anything for the others yet), and isolate themselves as a high-class, weird-looking clique. The way Alice pranced across the cafeteria in Chapter 1 and dumped her untouched food in the trash can alone would raise questions among the students at this school and make them curious.

These are all behaviors that Ed and Fam could correct if they really wanted to, but they don't, and I know the reason for it. There needs to be something there to distinguish them as superior to the other students, and Meyer is not an inventive enough writer to do this in a subtle way. She also seems reluctant to have anybody in the novel not pay attention to the Cullens for their remarkable uniqueness. Even though Bella once mentioned that nobody else is "as aware of Edward" as she is (69), people are aware, and they're curious, staring at Edward and Bella as they sit down at the cafeteria together in Chapter 10, though Meyer would like you to think that their curiosity is invasive and shallow, while Bella's is natural and admirable.

Meyer would also like for us to think of everybody in Forks as a slow cooker, aware perhaps of the Cullen family's super-awesomeness, but not bright enough to put two and two together about them being supernatural. Portraying Bella as the only one with the brainpower to figure that out is a major factor in Edward's attraction to her (she's perceptive, accepting of Edward's differences, etc...) and a way to finagle the audience into seeing her as a kind of special moon princess. (I should add that there were further instances in this chapter where Edward explains to Bella -- and to readers -- that she is both a delicate flower that needs to be protected and the object of desire for "every human male" (210) Forks High School; talk about medieval tropes, good God. Why doesn't Meyer just lock Bella away in a goddamn tower and be done with it?)

This relationship is crazy non-functional.

"If I had to [this is Bella talking here], I supposed I could purposefully put myself in danger to keep [Edward] close...I banished that thought before his quick eyes read it on my face. That idea would definitely get me in trouble." (211)

How terrifyingly stupid. And how nauseating that Bella doesn't dismiss the idea because it's moronic, only because she knows it would get her "in trouble" with Edward. And all for someone she barely knows!

I'm not saying that there is absolutely NO chemistry between these two characters, as there's something really funny about Bella trying hard to be nonchalant when Edward discusses his hunting preferences ("Nothing more fun than an irritated grizzly bear" (215)). But Bella's level of devotion (or really, her neediness) is completely out of proportion with the relationship that she actually has with Edward. It's particularly out of proportion when you think about all the uncomfortable grimacing, angsting, glaring, and indirect, avoidant banter that these two experience when they're around each other.

On the plus side, Bella isn't complaining now as much as in previous chapters, and she's gotten to be pretty damn outrageous in way that is simultaneously infuriating and hilarious. She's like a parody of a needy girlfriend, without a whiff of irony.

WHAT'S WORKING:
Contradiction #1
Fans of this series who idolize Edward have to know that he has eyes only for Bella. He doesn't give a damn about any other human being. If you were to find yourself cornered by the Port Angeles Three-Time Champion Gang-raping Team, Edward wouldn't care unless you were -- oh...OOOHH...but you ARE Bella, aren't you?

As a fantasy, guy-saves-girl is an old standby; it's a signal of ultimate goodness for a man to risk his life to save a girl (though...Edward is both immortal, and invincible, so it doesn't seem like he's risking that much). Those who have substituted their own qualities into Bella's blank spaces aren't thinking, "Edward's kind of an asshole to most people"; they're thinking "Edward would care about me," who, if you have the mentality of a fifteen-year-old, is the only person that matters. This is why we become adults and grow out of this mindset.

The contradiction works in the novel's favor in regards to its fanbase. This isn't explicitly said, but I think it's Edward's DEVOTION that makes him "good," not so much his attitude, moral compass or non-serial-murderer status. The intensity of his feeling, which he has in spades, is the most important thing to readers.

Contradiction #2
I kind of touched on this. Edward has to be both really, really amazing in an obvious way and also have the pretense of keeping his vampirism under wraps from the rest of the town. For Meyer, and for readers also, apparently, there can exist no realm in which Edward is not explicitly better than all of those around him, therefore he and his family are naturally at the center of gossip and intrigue, even though the dumb country bumpkins of Forks still aren't observant enough to suspect that the Cullens are anything more than beautiful weirdos. This is another contradiction that doesn't make logical sense, but from a misanthropic (or more accurately, "Edward-centered") viewpoint, there can be no other way.

Contradiction #3 I really don't know about this last one. I think it just has to do with my perspective about what love should be. I mean, if these people were any more tortured, they'd be on racks.

What I keep looking for are the moments when Edward and Bella genuinely enjoy the other's company, when she's not freaking out about how inferior she is to him and how soon he will leave her, and he's not angsting about putting her in danger. The angst aspect has GOT to be an element that's working for other readers, as it's playing a dominant role here. While the feelings may not be pleasant or joyful, they ARE intense, and what this novel does right (ad nauseum) is describe Bella's deep physical attraction to Edward. It feeds readers the idea that anything this severe, pleasurable or miserable or otherwise, MUST be true, in spite of sound logic.

For the record, I don't think the crazier Twilight fans are all that interested in logic. They believe in the intensity of the emotion because the book surrounds them with it. And it's always possible that these readers decided as soon as they read the blurb that these two characters were going to be irrevocably in love with one another.

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Sorry for the delay this week. I had a project to finish that I had procrastinated on, and while I normally use this blog as a means to procrastinate, I procrastinated about that too. Chapter 11 for next week.

Wish me luck
Jenchilla

Chapter 9: Theory

195 pages in...

As a special treat for everyone, Instead of the usual dull summary this week, I'm going to present Chapter 9 to you in comic form, which I drew, and which I think speaks for itself. And while this may seem like a lot of work to invest in a book that I hate, remember this: 1) I enjoyed the hell out of myself. 2) It really didn't take that long to put this together, really about two hours, and some of that time I spent watching Law & Order SVU also (though I prefer the original so much more).

I claim that more intellectual thought went behind the making of this comic than the entire bajillion-page Twilight series. So...please enjoy.

*ACTUAL DIALOGUE






The chapter concludes with this infamous passage:

"About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was 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." (195)

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT: Bella may not be the bug-eyed, drooling idiot that my comic portrays her to be, but she does cry when Edward implies that they should not be together. It should also be noted that Bella physically GOES INTO WITHDRAWAL when Edward tells her goodnight. As soon as his car disappears around the corner she "realize[s] it [is] very cold" (193), and then she proceeds to experience dizziness (194), chills, fatigue, and "aching shivers" (195).

...

I think there might be a twenty-page scene missing from this novel, in which Bella and Edward hang out at the shipyard in Port Angeles and shoot heroin together.

You see, the thing is, Bella and Edward don't really know that much about each other. They remedy the problem--kind of--in this chapter, a brief stretch of time in which they converse, according to Bella, "openly, the walls between [them] gone" (187). Bella learns for certain (sort of) that Edward is a vampire, but she's not particularly thrown by this (more "curious" (185), actually), and their conversation thrills her not so much because she's invested in what he has to say, but because she gets to sit in his glowing presence for a while. These crazy kids...they're already in that stage of the relationship in which being apart from each other makes them anxious. Both Edward (188) and Bella (190) feel this way.

Ehhhhhhhh. I guess...I guess my problem is that I don't see any REASON for these two to love each other. And it's not because I don't believe in people clicking and having immediate, intimate chemistry with one another, and it's not because I don't think Bella could be so enamored with Edward's hypnotizing appearance that she would be obsessed with him in this way (this chapter is ever-vigilant of the status of Edward's "honey" eyes, glorious face and silky voice). But there is no chemistry, and the story is trying to sell Bella's obsession as being much, much more than physical attraction.

I keep searching for those blissful, giddy feelings in Bella that I felt when I had crushes in high school. Instead, I get this steady onslaught of angst. When Edward is out of sight, Bella's whole world is dark; when Edward is there, Bella is constantly terrified of the moment when he won't be. And Edward is the same way! On top of being kind of a douche (on pg 181, he literally ROLLS HIS EYES at Bella when she freaks out about him driving a hundred miles an hour down the freeway), he answers Bella's questions with a kind of begrudging nonchalance before quickly slipping back into, "Sometimes we [the vampires] make mistakes. Me, for example, allowing myself to be alone with you" (187). We're supposed to understand that he really loves being with Bella, since he forces her to have dinner with him and informs her that he is driving her home, and yet much of the time he's with Bella, he's spending his energy angsting about the risk he's taking.

These kids...they're just so MISERABLE--even when they are together!

PLOT DEVELOPMENT: On top of the relationship suddenly taking a dive into Serious Luv, we get to learn more about the Meyer Vampire Mythology in this chapter. I know the basics of the usual vampire stories. Fangs. Blood drinking. Immortality. Weakness against sunlight, crosses, garlic, holy water, etc. The point of the vampire genre is that vampires are humans who have been cursed with bloodlust, and as a result they must creep around in the night for eternity -- insert whatever sociological metaphors you wish.

The vampire diet and the sunlight thing are addressed in this chapter. Meyer's vampires can choose not to hunt humans, instead sustaining themselves on animal blood (Edward compares it to "living on tofu and soy milk...it doesn't completely satiate the hunger" (188)), so the bloodlust is there, but it can be overcome. And Edward laughs at Bella (185) when she asks how he can come out in the daytime. In Twilight, it's a myth that vampires burn in the sun, though Edward still says that he "can't go out in the sunlight...where anyone can see" (189).

We'll just leave that plot point alone for a while. It will arise later, to more devastating effects, I have a feeling...

I enjoy reading authors who twist fantasy/horror genres to their own means, but Meyer's twists make me...reeeeeeally nervous. I can't say exactly why. It may have something to do with the fact that every move Meyer makes in the story seems to be an attempt to make her vampires that much better than humans (that is, they don't seem to have any real weaknesses). We'll keep an eye on this as the story progresses.

I was about to complain also that there's no reason for Meyer to make Chapter 9 its own chapter, as it never breaks scene from Chapter 8, but I realize that she does something that I do when I write sometimes, which is offsetting important moments of the story in their own separate sections. In effect, by making this drive home its own chapter, she's putting an asterisk on it, noting its importance to the story. Um....I don't know if she did that consciously; I just thought I'd point it out.

LANGUAGE: I don't have a lot to say about this. Chapter 9 reads as half dialogue and half Meyer's weird fetishizing of whatever Edward's eyes are doing every other paragraph, and how his voice sounds, and whether he is smiling "ruefully" (189), or groaning "quietly" (190). I hope Meyer doesn't inspire legions of teenage writers to start raping their prose with clunky adverb usage.

And what the fuck, Bella says "Holy crow" again. Who SAYS that...?

SUBTEXT: Edward Cullen can be read pretty much as an illicit substance. I'm not kidding. Observe these bullet points, during which I replace [heroin] for [Edward Cullen].

• [Heroin] makes Bella experience a kind of euphoria.
• Bella only feels all right when she has [heroin] nearby.
• When [heroin] is not nearby, Bella suffers from chills, shakes and fatigue.
• [Heroin] is, admittedly, dangerous.
  
• We have seen [heroin] work on multiple characters in the book. [Heroin] appeals to all who experience [its] hypnotic wiles, including the woman in the nurse's office and the hostess at the Italian restaurant.

If I saw a marginally more talented author depicting a man (or ANYTHING) in this way, I would know without a doubt that the subject in question was BAD NEWS. But Twilight is doing something different here. It consistently counters Edward's more dubious qualities by portraying him as a savior and Bella as an incompetent child. Bella NEEDS him, literally. She can't resist his power over her.

Some older people who enjoy Twilight claim that the books reawaken what it was like to have a first crush (Caitlin Flanagan falls into this camp, playing the teenage nostalgia card like nobody's business). Bella's feelings for Edward apparently reach into the very essence of that semi-scary feeling of teenage love, as the relationships you have when you are young, needy, and emotionally immature tend to reach the extremes depicted in the book. Well, fine. Bella's drooling reminds you of how you felt about your boyfriend when you were sixteen. But that would make Bella's obsession a matter of perception (i.e., Edward is unsurpassingly awesome to Bella, and only Bella). And if there's one thing the book makes clear, it's that Edward's awesomeness is not a matter of perception, as Edward exerts his mesmerizing effect ON EVERYONE (all women, at least).

This is why I can't help but read Edward as more of a drug than a person. He hasn't so much wooed Bella as he's gotten her addicted.

No. I do not think Meyer promotes drug use. That's not what I'm saying. I think she wrote Edward in this way so that he would be irresistable, in the way that addictive drugs seem irresistable. But if you make your love interest irresistable, it means that your female protagonist has no agency.

WHAT'S WORKING: This is a kind of romance that I don't understand. It's an old-fashioned, semi-tortured romance for sure, older than I am, far beyond my feminist sensibilities. I mean, I think this falls into the "kiss me awake and I will marry you" camp, which clearly still holds appeal for some people. The part of the relationship where you show interest in one another's personality and learn about them, and navigate each other's lives, and worry about whether or not you have the same values, and discover, with joy, that you do have the same values...it's been eradicated completely here. We are officially in the "I can't stand to be apart from you, I would probably die for you" phase and it is full speed ahead my, friends.

Less, um...rational readers of Twilight are perfectly fine arguing that Edward and Bella love each other because they are "soulmates," that you can't help who you fall in love with, and you can't fully explain it when you love someone, and -- this is one I found on Yahoo! Answers -- "They love each other so deeply it's impossible to tell the true meaning to the love they share" (as in, their love exists in a realm beyond such petty things as logic and reason). I guess not being able to help who you fall in love with would explain why Edward and Bella are so miserable all the time. Neither of them actually enjoys loving the other.

Consistent with previous chapters, there are many gaps left in these characters, and in this relationship. So readers who are more imaginative and don't buy the argument of less intellectual fans have plenty of opportunity to fill in their own character motivations. I did a little research and found further rebuttals to my complaint

Edward loves Bella because:

• She's selfless
• She's mysterious and unique (he can't read her thoughts)
  
• She is smarter than all the other students
• She doesn't freak out when she learns that he's a vampire (she accepts him for who he is, i.e., a murderer)
  
• They share an interest in classical music
  
• She has "depth"

Bella loves Edward because:

• He has a gentlemanly nature (toward Bella; not so much anyone else)
• He's mysterious and unique
• He's kind (toward Bella; not so much anyone else)
• He saves her life on multiple occasions
• They are both outsiders
• He has "depth"

I think this is consistent with the theme of "Fill In the Character Qualities of Your Choice." I don't see any evidence of Bella or Edward being selfless, mysterious, kind, deep, or even genuine outsiders. But for readers who have imposed these qualities on them, it is easy, if not inevitable, picturing Edward and Bella as a couple.

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Chapter 10 is called "Interrogations." I really want Meyer to describe how Edward is naturally a Glade Plug-in some more. Because...we need more of that.

Wish me luck,
Jenchilla

Chapter 4: Invitations

84 pages in...

We start off with that dream Bella was talking about in Ch. 3, which features Edward "radiating" light from his skin (Foreshadowing!?!?). After having this dream, Bella's obsession with Edward reaches a critical level, though in the month following the accident, he is aloof toward her. Her natural conclusion is that he, um, regrets saving her from the van? So she tries to ignore him until he starts talking to her again and, uh --

Jesus. You know what? This chapter is 17 pages long and here's what happens in it:

1. Mike asks Bella to the upcoming spring dance.
2. Eric asks Bella to the upcoming spring dance.
3. Tyler, the van guy, asks Bella to the upcoming spring dance.
4. Bella refuses each guy by suddenly deciding to have a trip to Seattle that weekend.
5. Edward is aloof toward Bella, then disdainful toward her, then amused by her, then he tells her they shouldn't be friends, then he finds her hilarious, then he condescends her some more, then he tells her they shouldn't be friends, then he invites her to go with him to Seattle, then he tells her she should stay away from him.
6. Bella fumes.

And that's all I got to say...'bout that.

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT: It wouldn't be so hard to handle Bella if other characters treated her like the outsider she thinks she is, but everyone loves her without reason, the tally of boys who are obsessed with her has reached four now, and she continues to view the people of Forks with enough disdain to curl wallpaper. Surely someone at the school realizes how much Bella hates everything. The girl hasn't experienced one iota of genuine joy the entire time I've been trapped inside her head.

I think what fans of the series don't seem to realize is that Bella's pessimistic, self absorbed qualities are not the central obstacle for readers like myself. I can deal with pessimistic, self absorbed characters, as most any teenager would at times display these qualities. What I CAN'T deal a character who is endlessly admired and never gets treated in the way she would actually be treated. What's worse, none of Bella's admirers have any real bearing on the plot. It would in fact make MORE sense if people hated or ignored Bella when she first arrived in Forks. It would give her an actual motive to seek a connection with the Cullens, the other outsiders at school, and it would make her more sympathetic. But it's as though Meyer couldn't imagine a world in which Bella was not the center of attention.

For readers that are capable of seeing Bella as themselves, it might make enjoying the book that much easier. Instead of having to deal with all the typical obstacles of making friends, fitting in and being liked, the self-inserted girl has all of those problems steamrolled out of the way by the author. Since everything in the world outside of Edward is portrayed as dopey, dull and insufficient, there is no reason for us to worry about any of it.

But I digress. On to more important things, like Bella and Edward's steamy, erm, "relationship." Edward is all over the map, only consistent in the way his moods shift dramatically during his conversations with Bella, from amused to angry and back again; he's a series of extremes and contradictions. He insists "You really should stay away from me" (84), just seconds after asking Bella if she'll go to Seattle with him. And I'm pleased to see Bella acknowledge and be angered by his assholish capriciousness. "Do you have a multiple personality disorder?" she asks on p 82. For once, she and I are on the same wavelength.

Edward does little to explain his behavior. He's prone to vaguely creepy, cryptic remarks, the weirdest of which is, "...I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella" (84), which you could certainly picture someone whispering as they catch up to you at night in the Walmart parking lot, just seconds before the chloroform kicks in. Creep. Tastic.

But what makes this even stranger is Bella's response to Edward. She kind of hates him, which is fun to observe, but when she looks at his face, his beauty is so overpowering that it causes a debilitating physical and mental reaction.

"I couldn't believe the rush of emotion pulsing through me -- just because he'd happened to look at me for the first time in a half-dozen weeks. I couldn't allow him to have this level of influence over me. It was pathetic. More than pathetic, it was unhealthy." (74)

Oh. OH. So Bella knows that her reaction to Edward is unhealthy. And yet, she can't seem to do anything about it. So what does she feel exactly when she looks at Edward's face? Adoration? Joy? Love?

"His eyes were light again today, a deep, golden honey color. Then I had to look down, to reassemble my now-tangled thoughts." (81)

"His eyes were gloriously intense as he uttered that last sentence [the "I'm tired of trying to stay away..." sentence]. I couldn't remember how to breathe." (84)

"[after Edward asks Bella to go to Seattle] I couldn't speak yet, so I just nodded." (84)

Hm. If Bella feels anything remotely pleasant when she looks at Edward, she doesn't talk about it. In fact, Bella even closes her eyes at one point so that she doesn't have to look at Edward's face and can think straight. In short, Edward makes Bella go stupid any time he looks at her, and Bella seems to be really uncomfortable with this. She knows that Edward could ask her anything and she would be unable to refuse him. Really, it's more akin to being glamoured than having a crush on someone.

(Hahaha...man do I love True Blood.)

I'm also really annoyed by how the secondary characters are treated in this book, but it's consistent with the fantasy Meyer has created. Meyer goes out of her way to show that none of these characters have inner lives aside from Bella and Edward, or if they do, their inner lives aren't important. Bella's friend Jessica, who has a crush on Mike, is consistently shown being nothing but jubilant around Bella, and yet she's categorized as liking Bella only for her "inexplicable popularity" (71), an unfair assessment that we're supposed to read as god-given truth, just because Bella thinks it. Charlie, who showed potential in the first chapter, has been resigned to sitting in the background and eating Bella's cooking. Bella's mother is a hysterical parental figure meant to be consistently lied to.

In all of this, Bella stands alone as the one whose life is worthy of a 500p novel. Replace the name "Bella" with the name "XY or Z," rinse and repeat.

PLOT DEVELOPMENT: I'm still perplexed over details involving the car accident. We discover that Bella's truck has suffered "minimal damage" (76) in the collision, while "Tyler's parents had to sell their van for parts." What...did it explode? Setting aside the retard logistics of Bella's truck only needing a new taillight, how fast was this idiot Tyler going? Was he drag racing in the parking lot -- STOP! Stop. Thou shalt not apply logic to Twilight, for ye shall be sorely disappointed.

Really. REALLY. Logistics do not matter. I have a feeling that if you've reached this point in the novel and are asking questions (Minor ones like the one above or even broader ones: Why do all of these people like Bella? Why is she putting up with Edward's behavior? Why aren't we supposed to care about anybody but these two people?) then this is NOT the book for you.

LANGUAGE: Language problems persist, particularly in the dialogue tags, which continue to be annoying. Meyer shows some talent for dialogue itself when the secondary characters are talking; they sound like actual teenagers. Bella's language tends to be stiffer than her friends', less so in dialogue but ridiculously so when she's addressing the reader. "To my dismay, I found myself the center of attention for the rest of the week" (68) (What teenager says, "To my dismay"?) This is done to depict Bella in a class above her peers. Oh, and Edward also talks like he's got something up his butt, however...he's a vampire so...I'll deal with it.

SUBTEXT: Meyer has gone on record as claiming that she is not anti-feminist (she's "anti-human," which is...better...for some reason?). Her opinion is that the foundation of feminism is "being able to choose." Well...that's an interpretation that a lot of women seem to be adopting, but it's not what I adhere to. For instance, a woman can "choose" not to vote because she believes that men have a better head for politics, which was in fact the stance of many women during the suffrage movement. I see feminism as being about equality, assuming equal weight in society, taking responsibility for your actions and recognizing the impact your choices have.

But no matter. Let's apply Meyer's definition of feminism to Bella Swan so far. How much of what has happened to Bella happened because of the choices she's made? Well, she made the initial choice to come to Forks, I'll grant her that. But did she choose to have Edward talk to her? Did she choose to be obsessed with him? Did she choose to have him rescue her? Um. She did not. She didn't even choose to go to Seattle with him. The story makes very clear that she was so tongue tied and stupefied by Edward's beauty that she physically could not say no to him.

So far, Meyer's whole universe is set up so that Bella can be carried from plot point A to plot point B. (She's a Port-a-Bella!) Choice is irrelevant. Do I think Meyer sat down at her computer saying, "I'm going to write an anti-feminist novel now"? No. I think Meyer's fantasy of Edward took the front seat, and it never occurred to her to make her female protagonist an autonomous individual whose decisions have actual weight. This kind of setup has obviously appealed to a lot of people.

WHAT'S WORKING? Do girls want this? They really want a guy who stupefies them into submission? A multitude of women share Meyer's fantasy. If I take a step back, I sort of get it.

If someone falls in love with you through no action of your own, think about the pressure that takes off of you. You wouldn't need to actually be interesting (In fact, On p 79, Bella takes a paragraph to think about how uninteresting she is, how it is impossible that Edward likes her, and I'm inclined to agree; none of her thoughts or emotions have been particularly insightful so far and she doesn't have any hobbies to speak of). And you wouldn't need to say or do the right thing or go out of your way to impress anyone; your guy would be in love with you regardless, and he would rescue you any time you found yourself in some perilous situation, which would occur often through no fault of your own. Not-doing-anything is part of the fantasy.

It's understandable. Teenagers find themselves in a weird half-state, girls particularly, struggling to hang onto their childhoods while facing budding sexuality at the same time, feeling the pressure that comes with turning into responsible adults. Flanagan discusses this in her article about Twilight, in which she claims that girls have a tougher time with sexuality than boys because they are "far more rooted in the domestic routines and traditions of their families, which constitute the vital link between the sweet cocooning of childhood and their impending departure from it." Hm. That's a huge generalization but...okay. Whether or not you think that's true, Twilight provides certain tropes (and these aren't old tropes, folks; they've been around for thousands of years) for its female readers to fall back on: in the Twilight universe, Bella has an extremely handsome love interest to take care of her; she's essentially carted around like a child, and much of what happens to her is not her own responsibility.

THIS. IS. GOOOOOOOOOOOOOLD.

In the meantime however, Furious Bella is a bit more tolerable than Mopey Bella. There's a moment in this chapter when she contemplates rear-ending Edward's Volvo with her megatruck, and another moment when she refers to him as a "stupid, shiny Volvo owner" (83) both of which tingled my enjoyment neurons. That last bit is also funny because the comma usage is incorrect; the sentence doesn't read that Edward is stupid and owns a shiny Volvo. It actually reads that Edward is stupid, shiny and a Volvo owner, which is amusing to anyone who knows what happens to Meyer's vampires in sunlight. (Shaolin Grammar PUNCH!!! YAAAAH!!)

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Chapter 5 for next week. Edward reveals to Bella that he was booted off the set of True Blood and now cannot legally come within five hundred feet of Anna Paquin.

Wish me luck,
Jenchilla

Chapter 3: Phenomenon

67 pages in...

Announcements: I have received my first comment concerning the fact that I'm...ahaha...not doing a very good job identifying why Twilight works. Mostly, I've been riffing on it. And that is true. But. I will admit. I enjoy fantasy. I enjoy escapist literature at times. And this is not working for me. Not even on a superficial level. It's important to me that I catalog my initial reading experience, and then I can go back and try to understand what it is I'm missing that's prohibiting me from enjoying what I find in these pages. Why do I not connect with Bella Swan? Well, she's insufferable. Why do other people connect with Bella Swan? Maybe I'll understand that as I go on, but I'm having trouble seeing it. I'm not a sociologist or an expert in cultural phenomena. I'm just a reader, trying to figure something out. And I want to give people an accurate depiction of what it is I'm reading.

I also want to provide special thanks to my friend Neela, who linked me to this article, "What Girls Want" by Caitlin Flanagan. It's a very insightful review, singing Twilight's praises, and while I don't agree with a lot of it (it clearly didn't stem from a close reading of the novel, and some of it actually makes me downright nauseous), it's a very eloquent analysis of the phenomenon. I may address it later as my journey continues.

So. Let's continue.

Bella goes on to have the worst case of SADs in history when she sees that it has snowed outside and "groan[s] in horror." "I had enough trouble not falling down when the ground was dry," she laments. (Did I mention that Bella is clumsy? Bella mentions it. A lot. It's supposed to be one of those self-effacing ploys that makes you feel more sympathetic for her, but to many antifans, this is proof that Bella is a VARY SPESHUL kind of character.)

Anyway. Bella drives to school in the snow without incident and comes to discover, when she gets out at the school parking lot, that Charlie has graciously gotten up early to put snow chains on her tires. As Bella experiences a moment of sincere gratitude, she looks up and sees an out-of-control van skidding in her direction. In a very convoluted action sequence, Edward, whom Bella sees over on the other end of the parking lot, suddenly appears at her side to save her by blocking the van and/or lifting it up over her legs. In the midst of this, Bella knocks her head on the pavement and, subsequently, Edward manhandles her into an ambulance. Edward rides in front LIKE THE MAN HE IS. Tyler, the kid who was driving the van, gets sent to the hospital too with a head injury. (Guess who it is everybody is most concerned about. Just guess.)

Bella meets Dr. Cullen, Edward's father, who is also beautiful and who does doctor things, but Bella is most concerned about how Edward managed to save her. She confronts him directly and he condescends her, natch; she is convinced that she saw Edward lift the van, and he is apparently convinced not to explain it to her, pulling all the usual, "Well, you're a hysterical woman with a head injury, so no one will believe you," stops. Actually, his responses are pretty amusing; I was very much pleased to see him piss Bella off.

Charlie comes to pick up a still-fuming Bella, and she sees, on the way out, the entire school sitting worriedly in the waiting room. (Did they cancel class for this event?) She has to call her mother, who is "in hysterics," hearing about the accident from Charlie. Bella resists her mother's pleas to come home because she is "consumed by the mystery Edward presented," and when she goes to sleep that night, she has her first dream about him.

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT: Let's play a quiz game. It's called, "Bella Rationalizes Her Way Out of a Wet Paper Bag." Pretend that you are Bella, and answer the following questions:

You move to a new town where the local boys are remarkably friendly toward you. Two of them (We'll call them Mike and Eric) have already started a rivalry for your affections.
a) You consider that you are a "novelty" (p 55) that the people in the bumfuck town where you've moved have never seen a marginally attractive person before, and that's why they're going apeshit.
b) You consider that your "crippling clumsiness" (p 55) must been seen as "endearing," and that most boys would like to date a girl who must always wear a giant, bubble wrap coat.
c) Despite complaining about never fitting in with people your age 40-some pages ago, you are disconcerted by the fact that boys like you, and you would prefer to be ignored.
d) All of the above.

The answer: D. Bella takes pgs 54-55 to theorize about why the boys in Forks seem to like her so much, and her conclusion is that she wishes they didn't like her at all. Readers may interpret this as Bella being vulnerable and shy, but she doesn't cite shyness as the reason why she doesn't want this attention. Really, it just annoys her, and she doesn't seem to respect Mike or Eric for their feelings at all.

I think this is because we are not supposed to see Mike and Eric as important to the story. Meyer hasn't taken the time to explain WHY Bella is so turned off by boys liking her. There may very well be a reason. Maybe Bella is terrified of embarrassing herself. Maybe she's nervous about sex, or making commitments, or the idea of having to impress a boy, things that would make her genuinely shy or vulnerable. But none of that is discussed. We're left with a bitchy girl, thoughtlessly dismissing romantic suitors.
OMG Bella I love you so much I want to be you tell me your secrets

Here's question 2.

True or False. You are a sixteen-year-old high school student who knows more about head injuries than people with medical degrees.

If you answered false you are WRONG, and I passive aggressively grimace at you. Bella is embarrassed and frustrated about being taken to the hospital, which is understandable, even admirable in her hatred of being coddled. But she is also an irritating, indignant little snot about it, sorely convinced that there is nothing wrong with her and that everyone is just inconveniencing her. When they put her in a neck brace, she takes if off when no one is looking and throws it under the hospital bed because it's "stupid-looking" (p 60), and when they X-ray her head she tells the reader, "I told them there was nothing wrong, and I was right. Not even a concussion" (p 61). That's right. Doctors are stupid, and the tests they run to make sure that people aren't bleeding internally are stupid, and the devices they put on people's necks to ensure that they don't have permanent spinal injury are STUPID.

To be honest, there is something to be said here about Bella wanting control over her own body, or even knowing her own body more than trained professionals. Her anger at being overpowered reached me on some level, as I understand what it's like to not feel like you are in control. It's a genuine teenage girl fear that I can somewhat relate to. But really, Meyer? Did you have to try to make her smarter than the doctors?

Last question.

You think it's "stupid, stupid, stupid" (pg 67) to be so suddenly obsessed with Edward because:
a) Obsessions are bad
b) He has been openly hostile toward you
c) You saw him demonstrate immense physical strength by lifting a van, and then he lied to you about it, which makes you nervous around him
d) Being obsessed with Edward makes you NOT want to get the hell out of your small town

The answer? D! "I wasn't eager to escape Forks as I should be, as any normal, sane person would be" (pg 67). Not only is this the ultimate insult to the people of Forks, it overlooks a lot of the more frightening possibilities that NORMAL, SANE PEOPLE would recognize. But then, those aren't things that the story wants us to pay attention to. Edward Cullen: he makes shitty small town life bearable.

And it's true that Edward isn't completely unlikable so far, particularly when he bickers with Bella about what happened at the accident. Here are some little moments that pleased me:

"I saved your life -- I don't owe you anything." (p 64)

"Bella, you hit your head, you don't know what you're talking about." (p 64)

"You think I lifted a van off of you?"..."Nobody will believe that, you know." (p 65)

"Can't you just thank me and get over it?" (p 65)

Yeah Bella, you little twerp. Can't you? I'm sure I should be disconcerted by the way he treats her, but I actually kind of enjoy it. Bella's mindset is so childish that to see someone treat her like a child is rewarding. Eventually, Edward (sort of) wins their argument by staring Bella down, and his beauty makes it difficult for her to stay focused. "It was like trying to stare down a destroying angel" (p 65). A what? A destroying what? The same hair-gel model who just snapped, "Can't you just thank me and get over it?" like a haughty adolescent is what? Haha, Bella Swan, your metaphors are funny.

There is one little thing that concerns me about Edward. On pg 65, they argue about his rescuing Bella and she asks him, "Why did you even bother?" which is kind of a dumb question to ask when you've just gotten rescued by someone. Edward, however, replies, "I don't know." What...you don't know why you saved a person's life? Is he implying that if Tyler's van were to careen toward anybody but Bella, he would have watched them get crushed, even though he had the power to save them? It doesn't speak well for Edward's morality if he only ever feels an impulse to ease human suffering when the suffering human happens to be one fragile, good-smelling girl. This problem, I have a feeling, gets overlooked by casual readers, who most likely assume that Edward saved Bella because he is in love with her, not because he actually values human life.

In the land beyond Edward-Bella World, secondary characters MATTER NOT. Poor Tyler! Bella hears a whole crowd of people shouting her name over the parking lot when the accident happens, but nobody shouts Tyler's name, and he spends most of his time in the hospital in the bed next to Bella, desperately apologizing for nearly crushing her. Bella is frustrated since she has already told him she's fine and he won't let the subject go. She eventually "close[s] [her] eyes to ignore him," oblivious that Tyler's anxiety about almost killing a person might, I don't know, HAVE TO DO WITH SOMETHING A LITTLE BIGGER THAN JUST BELLA SWAN!

But, as I've come to find out, nothing in the Twilight universe is bigger than Bella Swan.

PLOT DEVELOPMENT: This is the first time an event has taken place in Twilight, and again, the car accident is circumstantial, totally outside of Bella's control, and therefore irrelevant to her character or her decisions, and lacking causality. I mean, it's more exciting than smirks and grimaces over a biology lab, so I'll bite. But I think I kind of understand why Meyer might want to keep action sequences out of the equation as often as possible. There are...PROBLEMS, mostly inconsistencies and a lack of clarity in the language, so...

LANGUAGE:...I'll deal with it in this section. This marks the first chapter where Meyer's language hindered my ability to understand literally what was happening. Maybe someone else can have a go at it. Here's the paragraph where the van almost hits Bella.

"Just before I heard the shattering crunch of the van folding around the truck bed, something hit me, hard, but not from the direction I was expecting. My head cracked against the icy blacktop, and I felt something solid and cold pinning me to the ground. I was lying on the pavement behind the tan car I'd parked next to. But I didn't have a chance to notice anything else, because the van was still coming. It had curled gratingly around the end of truck and, still spinning and sliding, was about to collide with me again." (p 56)

...What? Setting aside the image of a van "folding around" the truck (like a taco?) it curls around the end of the truck a second time, spins and slides some more (how does it do this if it's up against the truck?) at comes at Bella a second time, as though it's making another attempt. Oh, van. I admire your attempt, I surely do. It is a brave and honest endeavor but...it's impossible to picture what's happening in this paragraph.

When Edward rushes onto the scene, a "low oath" makes Bella aware of him. (You get it? Edward is swearing.) There also some confusion as to what Edward does to the van, whether he stops it with his hand, catches it in the air (?) to keep it from "landing" on Bella's legs, or lifts it up off of her (if this last one were the case, wouldn't she have been crushed anyway?). The consensus on p 64 seems to be that he both stops the van with his hands AND lifts it to keep it from crushing her, but if it's already stopped before it crushes Bella, why would he need to lift it...? These are language problems typical of amateur writers, who have little experience choreographing scenes, and who orchestrate action in a really confusing way. Meyer wants us to know every tiny movement that happens when the van comes at Bella, but we're bogged down with so many details that its hard to decipher them. A more mature writer would have focused more on the sensory elements of almost getting hit by a car: sounds, the smell of burning rubber maybe, the sight of a car door swinging toward your face. Instead, we get Bella attempting to give us a blow-by-blow account of the literal events.

But It doesn't really matter. The only thing you're supposed to take away from this scene is EDWARD MAN SAVE BELLA WOO-MAN!!!. The logistics are irrelevant.

SUBTEXT: Meyer's forbidden fruit and outsider subtexts have been set aside in lieu of the plot; what's at the forefront in the chapter is Bella's life-in-peril moment, and her curiosity/frustration with Edward. I have a feeling it's going to become a pervasive idea that Bella is frail and in need of protection, and that Edward, the strong, silent guardian, will protect her without question, and without explanation. However, even though I don't like Bella at all, I do appreciate her stubbornness, her dogged quest for answers, and her distaste for being coddled (even if her frustrations are petty, misplaced and annoying). These are qualities that, one hopes, will evolve into something more interesting as the story progresses.

WHAT'S WORKING? Plausibility aside, convoluted language aside, Bella's incessant snottiness aside...there is one question to be asked. Who doesn't want to get rescued from an out-of-control van by the hottest guy in school?

The event is escapist fantasy to the extreme. What makes it even more radically fantastic is that Edward implies that Bella is the ONLY person he would have done such a thing for. All Bella has to do is exist, and she magically becomes the center of people's universes. By now, if Meyer has successfully convinced readers that Bella is selfless, mature, intelligent, and misunderstood by the rest of the world, she's probably also convinced them that they share Bella's qualities. "Of course Bella is deserving of Edward's special attention, and I am too, because Bella is me!"

The only way this could ever work is if the reader hasn't thought deeply about any of the things Bella has said, and if the reader is able to ignore, or doesn't recognize, a lot of the other problems with the prose, which range from distracting to infuriating.

With that said, I can still understand the teenage attraction to Edward so far, with all his smirking and arrogance, and his predominant quality being that he is really, really, really, ridiculously good-looking. I will be paying attention to him in the next chapter, if not just to see him be an asshole to Bella some more.

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Geeeez. Someone tell me Bella takes some Prozac in Chapter 4. Or at least downs a giant handle of vodka.

Wish me luck,
Jenchilla