The Obligatory Twilight Post

If there's a fail safe way to drum up hits on your blog, it's to talk about Twilight, right?

I would like to preface all of this by mentioning my qualifications as an expert critic. I was awarded scholarships to some fancy pants arts schools; I've studied creative writing in college at both the University of Colorado and Louisiana State University; I have friends who are successful, published authors; my personal motto is "show, don't tell" -- I know what good literature is, okay? I promise. (See how I did that? Motto is show don't tell, but all I did right there was tell you a bunch of stuff? That's what we call irony).

Here is a picture of me with glasses on, looking full of wisdom:

If that doesn't convince you that I'm brilliant, I don't know what will.

And yet I am drawn to the Twilight series like Prince Charles to Camilla -- secretly, and with great shame. I first heard of the books roughly a year ago, when references to this Edward Cullen fellow began cropping up all over Facebook. Not since Harry Potter have I seen such an outpouring of appreciation for a book or series of books, and these crazy tweens claim to not only enjoy the books, but literally love Edward. As if he were a real boy.

Once I saw the teaser trailer for the movie, I decided it was time to see what all the fuss was about. As I've mentioned before, I have a lot of downtime at work, so that's generally when I get things like recreational reading done. I didn't want to look like the total loser that I am, perched at the front desk devouring the paperback edition of what I fully expected to be teenage trash, so I got the audiobooks and listened to them on my iPod. (More and more I am coming to believe that audiobooks are the best way to enjoy books. I love being read to). Ilyana Kadushin's breathy narration fit the silliness of the dialogue well; I think if I had read the books myself I would have put them down out of disgust, but it was highly entertaining to giggle at the out-loud version of so many "Oh, EDWAAAAAAARD"s and "Belllllalooove"s.

I would like to tell you that I read all 4 books out of morbid curiosity, or because I just wanted a good laugh. But that would not be true. I read all 4 books because I enjoyed them.

I'm still not sure exactly what attracts me to this series. I realize how badly written the books are. I detect hints of racism, and the (semi-spoiler alert!) "grown men-wolves imprinting on baby girls" thing is creepy, no matter how you justify it. I don't like the glamorization of abstinence, and I think Edward comes off as a controlling asshole.

But kids, I cannot tear myself away. I listened to the audiobooks in the car, at work, at home, and I even stayed up late when I was sleepy to listen to them -- if I'm tired, I don't stay up late for ANYTHING.

I went to see the movie by myself. Then I made my boyfriend go see it with me again. Then I rented it for 24 hours on my cable box and watched it 4 times in a row -- that's roughly 8 hours. A week later I bought the DVD, and I'm embarrassed to say that it STAYS in our DVD player, and I watch it whenever Andy isn't home, often just to have on in the background while I do other things. If my DVD player had a "repeat" setting, I can guarantee you I would have Twilight on a loop.

And the movie's not very good, either. I really liked Catherine Hardwicke's Thirteen, but Twilight is a mess. And I KNOW HOW BAD IT IS. I can see that. (Except for Kristen Stewart, who is generally a terrific actress. Not to mention my giant, throbbing girl crush on her. She's just so cute and angsty!)

But I just can't tear myself away. I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I think maybe I'm the extreme example of the "mom" type who reads it as escapism. Particularly since I've been in and out of college the past 4 years, I've been reading mostly highly literary fiction, and some feminist theory and philosophy. Twilight is very nearly the opposite of all those things. It's got clunky dialogue, a pinch of misogyny, and a few cliched symbols thrown in for good measure. It embodies everything I dislike.

With everything I've been dealing with the past year -- uncertainty about the welfare of my parents; terminally ill grandparents; trying to balance housekeeping, work, and bringing my gpa up (from a -.5, did you know that you can have a negative GPA? Well you can.) and not flunk out of school [again]; etc. -- my poor little brain probably just couldn't handle much more. It needed a vacation from amazing, brilliant literature. I needed to not be blown away by insightful portraits of realistic people and real life. I'd had enough real life for a while.

I needed Twilight. I needed symbols so obvious they smack you over the head, characters so cliche they make you gag, and unreasonable, frustrating plots. It just made things a little more bearable to forget for a while that my family might soon be homeless, my grandfather wasn't going to see me get married, and my house was a wreck. I just needed to escape.

And I guess I still do. I still watch the movie at least once a week, and I troll around the internet looking for news and gossip about New Moon. If there were other books, I'd be reading them. And I'm okay with that. There is room on my bookshelf for both Nabokov and Meyer. I am lame, lame, lame, and it beats the hell out of being wound up and stressed out.


Next blog will be coming to you from sunny Arizona! I'll try to post some pictures of me sweating and looking impatient and pissed off (because that's what vacations are for, right?)