Book Challenge and Twilight Review
book #13 (hehe!) finishes out a series, and so the longer review. deep, cleansing breath. book first, then the series. some spoilers, but it's nothing a glimpse at, oh, any other fantasy-genre book or movie wouldn't tip you off on.
-13. Breaking Dawn, Stephanie Myer. Okay, I don't know why the author felt the need to write three books for her last one. I kind of wish she'd done it sooner. Jacob is so much better a narrator, and titles his chapters better as well. Anyway, I found this last book the least awful of the series. I'm so relieved I almost want to give it more stars than it deserves, but I'll be judicial. It still has problems. Insta-spawning is a problem for all couples in all story arcs-- it's like authors/directors/whomever don't know what to do with people once the romantic tension is resolved, because obviously married/established partners never have tension anymore (someone forgot to give me and my spouse that memo). Even so, for an insta-spawn story, it was okay, and at least not filled with predictable inaccurate pregnancy cliches. At least that part gave us a little more plot to play with rather than the usual 500 pages of how much Bella and Edward love each other and then 100 pages about some other vampires who are trying to kill them. Instead we get 500 pages about how much Bella and Edward love each other, 300 pages about pregnancy, delivery, and bodily changes, and 100 pages about other vampires that want to kill them. The ending I thought left a lot to be desired. We were kind of promised a huge show down, and I feel like Myer chickened out. She made pregnancy and childrearing more frightening than apocalyptic vampire warfare. Seriously, it's not that bad. The best scene in the book was a speech by a side character, Garret, and it gave me some goosebumps. Unfortunately, it never went anywhere. Kind of like the plot. **
Overall, I am hugely unimpressed with the Twilight saga, and baffled that it is so often compared to Harry Potter. This seems to me the way my parents were baffled when The New Kids on the Block were compared to the Beatles. Sensation-causing boy band? yes. Legend reshaping music for all time? not so much. Did Myer and her saga make a splash in the YA fantasy genre? yes. Was her work creative, well-written, or life-changing? no.
Say what you will, doubters, but JK Rowling created a world unlike any other, with talents and vocabulary-- and sports even-- unlike anything we'd ever imagined. Her characters, although she sold some of them short (like Snape, and Sirius and his relationship with Remus [and that's fun to mash those three together!]), were multi-faceted and identifiable. In her world, girls found role models in strong and heroic women-- Hermione's brilliance and courage which never made her unattractive, Ginny's determination, Luna's originality, Molly's maternal force-of-nature, McGonagall's wisdom, Tonks'-- yeah, I dunno about her; I don't like Tonks (she's a little-- Bella-- to me). Boys found role models, too, in Harry, of course, but also in the just-as-idolized cast of secondary male heroes: Ron's loyalty which never--okay, once--wavered, Neville's bravery that takes you by surprise at first, Remus and Sirius in their father-stand-in roles, Dumbledore's brilliant and humorous mentoring, Snape's redeemability that people somehow doubted (I never doubted Snape, just never really liked him, and I think Rowling made him less interesting than he should have been), Fred and George's humor and levity and loss of innocence. Rowling's message, ultimately, is in the triumph of love (even if she tended to see it as a strictly heterosexual, one-big-happy-weasley-family schlock thing-- and yes, i know "Dumbledore's gay," yeah, because that's an affirming glimpse at gay relationships, *snort*), anyway, the triumph of love of friends and family and romance and the world around you, over the forces of evil and death, no matter how dire. She wrote of love that leads to sacrifice, redemption, and transformation, and she consistently taught that the heroes are not always the people we expect, not always the strong or the beautiful or the famous, but sometimes also the Nevilles and Lunas and Hagrids and Snapes of the world. Her message, when summed up and placed in the hands of children, is something like this: be yourself, because there is beauty and strength in that; follow your heart, love with all you've got, and you can overcome the horrible things that are sometimes part of this otherwise beautiful, magical world.
Stepahnie Myer also believes in the power of love. But she believes in love between two people, and only two people, and for all time two people. Everyone has to find their mate, their perfect pair, and then that sets everything right. In fact, this is so important, that she makes it literally impossible for any of the main characters to *not* be in love with someone. The Cullen family is not complete until Edward has his Bella, and Carlisle was willing to go to great lengths in his younger days to try to accomplish this. The werewolves not only fall in love, but *imprint* so totally that they are not *capable* of choice beyond that imprint. This is what Myer thinks love is-- not a choice, not an effort, not a journey. It is a moment when you imprint-- really, are Bella and Edward any different than the werewovles in this?-- when you see the object of your forever affection, and you are hooked. Object is a good word there. Stripping love of the choice, the work, the journey, also strips the individuals in love of their personhood. They are objects to each other. They do not grow, they do not change. They are frozen in time. Like vampires. They are crystalline, shatterproof, hard and flawless, like diamonds. They are to be admired, by one another, for eternity. This seems pointless to me. I don't quite know what it is, but I don't think it's love. In their perfection, they are interesting. regular humans, you see, particularly the girl humans like Bella, are uninteresting. Bella (as I mentioned earlier) has no redeeming qualities, no strength, no beauty, no confidence, no talent whatsoever in her moral life. Only Edward sees value and beauty in her, mostly in the way she smells. She defines herself by the males around her: by Charlie, Jacob, and Edward, and toward the end of that existence, by the child she carries who is Edward's. As an immortal (spoiler alert, but did you not see that coming?), Bella is strong, beautiful, and possesses a talent that mystifies and impresses. She is also totally defined by her role as a wife and a mother. An object. This is so contrary to say, ordinary, shy little Neville, finding the courage to stand up to his friends in the first Harry Potter book, and to stand up to his enemies, most dramatically, by the fifth. That change in Neville is maturity, growth, something the young reader can aspire to. The change in Bella is wrought by Edward-- by his presence as much as his venom-- and either way, to me reinforces that she is weak and uninteresting until he comes into her life, that the strength she finds has nothing to do with her own self, but with the conditions and the creatures around her.
I read the Twilight books, as I read so many things, to see what all the fuss was about, and to see if I would recommend them to my child, and to my friends' and congregants' children. I don't get the fuss, and don't recommend the books because I don't find them interesting. But that's not the extent of my criticism. I recommend *not* reading the saga, because I think it teaches young women particularly a negative message, ingrained in our culture, and in no need of reinforcement. I think it teaches that girls are dull, powerless, and without talent, that the only thing to which they can aspire is to be loved by a man (or more), and to be worthy of his affection and somehow hold on to him forever. It teaches that love finds its pinnacle in romantic love, which is about perfection and pairing off (at the climax of the last book, Bella observes people expressing love and farewell in the face of almost certain death. What does she see? couples kissing. even though there are friends and parents and siblings and children, the love that people cling to is *only* the romantic love). It teaches that while love may conquer the evils of the world, it also conquers you, stripping you of choice, of change, of self. Ultimately, then, love is not love, but another form of control, another way to define and be defined by the people around us, a thing to freeze in time rather than journey with. A far more demonic message, if you ask me, than any terror a horde of vampires could concoct.
-13. Breaking Dawn, Stephanie Myer. Okay, I don't know why the author felt the need to write three books for her last one. I kind of wish she'd done it sooner. Jacob is so much better a narrator, and titles his chapters better as well. Anyway, I found this last book the least awful of the series. I'm so relieved I almost want to give it more stars than it deserves, but I'll be judicial. It still has problems. Insta-spawning is a problem for all couples in all story arcs-- it's like authors/directors/whomever don't know what to do with people once the romantic tension is resolved, because obviously married/established partners never have tension anymore (someone forgot to give me and my spouse that memo). Even so, for an insta-spawn story, it was okay, and at least not filled with predictable inaccurate pregnancy cliches. At least that part gave us a little more plot to play with rather than the usual 500 pages of how much Bella and Edward love each other and then 100 pages about some other vampires who are trying to kill them. Instead we get 500 pages about how much Bella and Edward love each other, 300 pages about pregnancy, delivery, and bodily changes, and 100 pages about other vampires that want to kill them. The ending I thought left a lot to be desired. We were kind of promised a huge show down, and I feel like Myer chickened out. She made pregnancy and childrearing more frightening than apocalyptic vampire warfare. Seriously, it's not that bad. The best scene in the book was a speech by a side character, Garret, and it gave me some goosebumps. Unfortunately, it never went anywhere. Kind of like the plot. **
Overall, I am hugely unimpressed with the Twilight saga, and baffled that it is so often compared to Harry Potter. This seems to me the way my parents were baffled when The New Kids on the Block were compared to the Beatles. Sensation-causing boy band? yes. Legend reshaping music for all time? not so much. Did Myer and her saga make a splash in the YA fantasy genre? yes. Was her work creative, well-written, or life-changing? no.
Say what you will, doubters, but JK Rowling created a world unlike any other, with talents and vocabulary-- and sports even-- unlike anything we'd ever imagined. Her characters, although she sold some of them short (like Snape, and Sirius and his relationship with Remus [and that's fun to mash those three together!]), were multi-faceted and identifiable. In her world, girls found role models in strong and heroic women-- Hermione's brilliance and courage which never made her unattractive, Ginny's determination, Luna's originality, Molly's maternal force-of-nature, McGonagall's wisdom, Tonks'-- yeah, I dunno about her; I don't like Tonks (she's a little-- Bella-- to me). Boys found role models, too, in Harry, of course, but also in the just-as-idolized cast of secondary male heroes: Ron's loyalty which never--okay, once--wavered, Neville's bravery that takes you by surprise at first, Remus and Sirius in their father-stand-in roles, Dumbledore's brilliant and humorous mentoring, Snape's redeemability that people somehow doubted (I never doubted Snape, just never really liked him, and I think Rowling made him less interesting than he should have been), Fred and George's humor and levity and loss of innocence. Rowling's message, ultimately, is in the triumph of love (even if she tended to see it as a strictly heterosexual, one-big-happy-weasley-family schlock thing-- and yes, i know "Dumbledore's gay," yeah, because that's an affirming glimpse at gay relationships, *snort*), anyway, the triumph of love of friends and family and romance and the world around you, over the forces of evil and death, no matter how dire. She wrote of love that leads to sacrifice, redemption, and transformation, and she consistently taught that the heroes are not always the people we expect, not always the strong or the beautiful or the famous, but sometimes also the Nevilles and Lunas and Hagrids and Snapes of the world. Her message, when summed up and placed in the hands of children, is something like this: be yourself, because there is beauty and strength in that; follow your heart, love with all you've got, and you can overcome the horrible things that are sometimes part of this otherwise beautiful, magical world.
Stepahnie Myer also believes in the power of love. But she believes in love between two people, and only two people, and for all time two people. Everyone has to find their mate, their perfect pair, and then that sets everything right. In fact, this is so important, that she makes it literally impossible for any of the main characters to *not* be in love with someone. The Cullen family is not complete until Edward has his Bella, and Carlisle was willing to go to great lengths in his younger days to try to accomplish this. The werewolves not only fall in love, but *imprint* so totally that they are not *capable* of choice beyond that imprint. This is what Myer thinks love is-- not a choice, not an effort, not a journey. It is a moment when you imprint-- really, are Bella and Edward any different than the werewovles in this?-- when you see the object of your forever affection, and you are hooked. Object is a good word there. Stripping love of the choice, the work, the journey, also strips the individuals in love of their personhood. They are objects to each other. They do not grow, they do not change. They are frozen in time. Like vampires. They are crystalline, shatterproof, hard and flawless, like diamonds. They are to be admired, by one another, for eternity. This seems pointless to me. I don't quite know what it is, but I don't think it's love. In their perfection, they are interesting. regular humans, you see, particularly the girl humans like Bella, are uninteresting. Bella (as I mentioned earlier) has no redeeming qualities, no strength, no beauty, no confidence, no talent whatsoever in her moral life. Only Edward sees value and beauty in her, mostly in the way she smells. She defines herself by the males around her: by Charlie, Jacob, and Edward, and toward the end of that existence, by the child she carries who is Edward's. As an immortal (spoiler alert, but did you not see that coming?), Bella is strong, beautiful, and possesses a talent that mystifies and impresses. She is also totally defined by her role as a wife and a mother. An object. This is so contrary to say, ordinary, shy little Neville, finding the courage to stand up to his friends in the first Harry Potter book, and to stand up to his enemies, most dramatically, by the fifth. That change in Neville is maturity, growth, something the young reader can aspire to. The change in Bella is wrought by Edward-- by his presence as much as his venom-- and either way, to me reinforces that she is weak and uninteresting until he comes into her life, that the strength she finds has nothing to do with her own self, but with the conditions and the creatures around her.
I read the Twilight books, as I read so many things, to see what all the fuss was about, and to see if I would recommend them to my child, and to my friends' and congregants' children. I don't get the fuss, and don't recommend the books because I don't find them interesting. But that's not the extent of my criticism. I recommend *not* reading the saga, because I think it teaches young women particularly a negative message, ingrained in our culture, and in no need of reinforcement. I think it teaches that girls are dull, powerless, and without talent, that the only thing to which they can aspire is to be loved by a man (or more), and to be worthy of his affection and somehow hold on to him forever. It teaches that love finds its pinnacle in romantic love, which is about perfection and pairing off (at the climax of the last book, Bella observes people expressing love and farewell in the face of almost certain death. What does she see? couples kissing. even though there are friends and parents and siblings and children, the love that people cling to is *only* the romantic love). It teaches that while love may conquer the evils of the world, it also conquers you, stripping you of choice, of change, of self. Ultimately, then, love is not love, but another form of control, another way to define and be defined by the people around us, a thing to freeze in time rather than journey with. A far more demonic message, if you ask me, than any terror a horde of vampires could concoct.