a preponderance of punctuation marks (reedrover) wrote,
a preponderance of punctuation marks

Books: Twilight article on the shame of it all (ha ha ha!)

This article was on the bottom of the front page of today's Washington Post.

We know. You hate "Twilight." You don't want to hear anything more about "Twilight." That's why this is not another story about the "Twilight" or "New Moon" mania, nor will it rhapsodize on the vampire craze, nor does it contain any interviews with Robert Pattinson.
This is a story about shame. [cut to get to the good stuff]

"Prior to 'Twilight,' my favorite books were by Anthony Burgess" and Ayn Rand, says Jenny West, 32, who had never heard of the series until she saw ads for the movie last year. "I bought 'Twilight' [the book] with the full intention of ripping it apart." Then she read it. In one night. Bought "New Moon" the next day. "I was kind of horrified with myself, and I had to keep going." When she finished the last book, she reopened the first one and started again. ... She founded the blog Twitarded, to process what had happened to her...

This article's author then bothered to educate the rest of the reading population on the absolute lure/hook of the Twilight series. The author starts explaining the plots of Twilight and New Moon, but then goes on to say... this description is utterly, utterly useless because none of it gets at what the "Twilight" series is actually about, which is being 17. It's a time capsule to the breathless period when the world could literally end depending on whether your lab partner touched your hand, when every conversation was so agonizing and so thrilling (and the border between the two emotions was so thin), and your heart was bigger and more delicate than it is now, and everything was just so much more...

Thank you, Ms. Hesse. You've summed up the problem. There are a million TwiMoms out there who want to go back to being 17, and a million tweens who want to hurry up to get to 17. Unfortunately, Ms. Meyers built a door to that world out of the crummiest pine she could nail together, and her inspection boss (editor) didn't make her redo the framing. I stuck my head through the door long enough to read Twilight, and came away with the opinion that Ms. Meyers needs a better editor, Bella is a dip and a flake, and that Edward is so self-delusional that he very well could be 17 forever and never learn his social lessons (yes, I know he's older than that, btw).

This doesn't mean that I won't eventually maybe see the New Moon movie sometime... on DVD... where I can fast forward through the boring (angst-filled) parts.

But really, my experience at 17 does not make me loooong to go back to that particular time in my life. Yeah, I loved high school. That was wonderful. But I don't remember the rollercoaster drama being SO MUCH FUN that I want to re-live every gasping ohmygodhedidn't! commendary in the hallway. Actually, I don't remember much of that at all, except as a younger sibling to my sister's high school experiences. Maybe it was my high school. Or maybe it was that I had an already-departed-to-college boyfriend, so wasn't really "on the market" at the time. I honestly don't know. But I don't resonate on these frequencies, and really just don't like Bella. I find it hard to sympathize with her maudlin, morbid contemplations of how horrible her life is. She's got parents who love her. She makes friends easily enough. She can think and communicate those thoughts. All I want to say to her is GET OVER YOURSELF. But of course she can't, because she's 17...
Tags: books, emotions

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