"Stop the hating, yo! It's just a book!"
... Or is it?
I kind of hate this debate, because my brain can't seem to settle on either a straight answer or a reasonable compromise. Which means I end up caught in a mental swirl of circular arguments until I get irritated enough to want out and push myself to think about other things. It works ... at least until it comes up again.
While checking this morning for updates on one of the webcomics I follow, I ran across this:
"Any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae."
... Now I kind of hate Kurt Vonnegut. Awesome.
Enough with the pseudo-angst, though. When it doesn't make me want to kick puppies, I find this debate pretty fascinating. A part of me wishes that it didn't center around the Twilight series as much as it has lately; there are just so many better (much, much better) books to have this argument over. But that's the point, isn't it? Whether it's worth putting so much negative emotional energy into condemning what is, in the end, a work of fiction.
On the one hand, I see exactly where Vonnegut's coming from. It was fun at first, but for me the Twilight snark got tiring and really, really old after awhile. It's so overkill by now that I find the continuing barrage of Take Thats against the books (and Stephenie Meyer herself) to be just as irritating as the series' own worst traits. This isn't to say a certain amount of it wasn't deserved, or that Meyer the Author -- as opposed to Meyer the Person -- needs to be coddled lest the criticism "crush" her writerly ego. It's just that after awhile, I scratch my head at all the HATEHATEHATE and ask, "What's the point? Seriously?" It's not like Meyer personally visited their homes, thrust a copy of the first book into unwilling hands and insisted, "You MUST believe Edward Cullen is a paragon of male perfection and that Bella is anything BUT a shallow caricature of hormone-crazy, weak-willed teenage girls! You must you must you MUST!"
On the other hand, how many people would equate 1984 to a "hot fudge sundae"? In its time, how about Uncle Tom's Cabin, whatever its flaws? Let's talk meta for a moment: Am I to deny the effect A Wrinkle in Time had on me as an eighth grader? How it made me want to become a author as well as an artist, after what had nearly been a lifetime of hating both reading and writing? Or maybe it just inducted me into the asylum with all the other FICTION IS SERIOUS BUSINESS! nut jobs? Oh, and let's not forget our old friend "censorship"! Everyone involved in that debate -- on both sides -- must be a crackpot, right? They're just books/movies/TV shows/what-have-you, after all!
Snark aside, I do have something resembling a stance on this. For me, it comes down to what the author set out to do with his/her story and whether he/she succeeded in that aim. If, say, a sci-fi novel was written with the intention of being nothing more than a light, entertaining read and it succeeds in that, well then, I say good for the author! Sure, I might be a little sad that she didn't aim higher -- especially if she had an interesting idea or two on her hands -- but hey, she's the author, the ride was still fun, and she didn't set me up for a letdown. And I can always write fanfiction to make it better anyway. If, however, the author aspired to write the Next Great American NovelTM, believes that he has, all but shouts this from the rooftops ... and yet has in fact failed miserably? That, I believe, is when the gloves come off.
I submit that Stephenie Meyer did not (at least initially) intend to write anything profound or life-changing when she began the Twilight Saga. She's given me the impression that she writes for fun more than for advancing her understanding of the craft. That said, when you write things like "and so the Lion fell in love with the Lamb," which -- corniness aside -- still seems to strain towards profundity, towards the idea that Bella and Edward's romance is something truly special ... then sorry, Meyer. That's asking for at least some level of criticism, especially if said romance is both the heart and soul of your books.
Was the (enormous) amount of snark and hate you've actually received called for? Almost certainly not, although I wish you would do more to reprimand the hardcore fanbase for those times when it gets out of hand.
This brings up something else I've been thinking about. I believe we clash so much when it comes to these (and other) books because of the life experiences and disparate personalities we bring into the mix. A lot of people find Bella's passiveness infuriating, as though it were the author's implicit indictment against female empowerment. Others take her at face value -- in other words, she's passive because that is her character within the story's context, not necessarily because she's supposed to be Meyer's poster girl for traditional female roles in the real world. While I have more sympathy for the first position, I completely understand the second one.
I'll take an example from one of my fandoms. A number of Fullmetal Alchemist fans -- especially those coming from "THE MANGA IS BETTER!" position -- loathe the first anime's version of Alphonse. They argue that he's too naive, too passive ... even at times Too Dumb To Live. He admires his older brother to the point of no longer being an equal partner in their quest to restore their bodies. Oh, and he's too kind-hearted. Hell, he's practically a pacifist. Forget the time he punched his brother square in the face because Edward had attempted to sacrifice himself needlessly, or the times he got angry enough to initiate a fight (which won't be mentioned here for the sake of not spoiling anything). He's such a terrible character! Not like manga!Al!
... Now, you see, other than the mental Flanderization manga fans can engage in at times, I understand where they're coming from. It doesn't change the fact that I honestly love both versions. First off, unless the crew working on an adaptation states from the start that they're trying to be as faithful to the original source material as possible, I couldn't care less if it diverges drastically from the original. All I ask is for the changes in said adaptation to not only make sense in the context of its new continuity, but to be well-done. Under that criteria, I don't expect first!anime!Al to be the same as manga!Al.
Second, there are times when I just like what I like. I could give you a thoughtful explanation on why I think first!anime!Al is awesome, but failing to convince in that manner, what do I have left to do except shrug, accept that we see the character differently, and move on? We all have characters that annoy us. The Alphonse Elric of the first anime doesn't annoy me at all, and in the context of the series I actually like that he's more deeply flawed there than in the manga. Others believe these flaws are just bad Flanderizations, which are sometimes strained to the breaking point in order to keep the plot going. (This is where some of the most irritating debates can break out, because how far our suspension of disbelief can go -- or even if it comes into play at all in a particular situation -- is awfully subjective.)
So who's right? Well, maybe I'm too easily pleased. Or maybe not. I just know that I'll always bring a little of where I've been and where I'm going into how I perceive FMA, manga and both anime adaptations alike. We all do with the things we watch/read/etc., and I believe it's nearly impossible to do otherwise. The same with me and Sam & Max, Homestar Runner, Disney's Gargoyles, etc. The same with Twilight and its fans.
So I suppose this is my tl;dr way of saying there are better ways of using our time than bashing mediocrity until we've reached the point of beating a dead horse. But, yeah. I don't often get into a ranty mood, or at least don't tend to stay in one long enough to write a whole LJ entry about it. So here we are!
... I think I'll go read a book now.
I kind of hate this debate, because my brain can't seem to settle on either a straight answer or a reasonable compromise. Which means I end up caught in a mental swirl of circular arguments until I get irritated enough to want out and push myself to think about other things. It works ... at least until it comes up again.
While checking this morning for updates on one of the webcomics I follow, I ran across this:
"Any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae."
... Now I kind of hate Kurt Vonnegut. Awesome.
Enough with the pseudo-angst, though. When it doesn't make me want to kick puppies, I find this debate pretty fascinating. A part of me wishes that it didn't center around the Twilight series as much as it has lately; there are just so many better (much, much better) books to have this argument over. But that's the point, isn't it? Whether it's worth putting so much negative emotional energy into condemning what is, in the end, a work of fiction.
On the one hand, I see exactly where Vonnegut's coming from. It was fun at first, but for me the Twilight snark got tiring and really, really old after awhile. It's so overkill by now that I find the continuing barrage of Take Thats against the books (and Stephenie Meyer herself) to be just as irritating as the series' own worst traits. This isn't to say a certain amount of it wasn't deserved, or that Meyer the Author -- as opposed to Meyer the Person -- needs to be coddled lest the criticism "crush" her writerly ego. It's just that after awhile, I scratch my head at all the HATEHATEHATE and ask, "What's the point? Seriously?" It's not like Meyer personally visited their homes, thrust a copy of the first book into unwilling hands and insisted, "You MUST believe Edward Cullen is a paragon of male perfection and that Bella is anything BUT a shallow caricature of hormone-crazy, weak-willed teenage girls! You must you must you MUST!"
On the other hand, how many people would equate 1984 to a "hot fudge sundae"? In its time, how about Uncle Tom's Cabin, whatever its flaws? Let's talk meta for a moment: Am I to deny the effect A Wrinkle in Time had on me as an eighth grader? How it made me want to become a author as well as an artist, after what had nearly been a lifetime of hating both reading and writing? Or maybe it just inducted me into the asylum with all the other FICTION IS SERIOUS BUSINESS! nut jobs? Oh, and let's not forget our old friend "censorship"! Everyone involved in that debate -- on both sides -- must be a crackpot, right? They're just books/movies/TV shows/what-have-you, after all!
Snark aside, I do have something resembling a stance on this. For me, it comes down to what the author set out to do with his/her story and whether he/she succeeded in that aim. If, say, a sci-fi novel was written with the intention of being nothing more than a light, entertaining read and it succeeds in that, well then, I say good for the author! Sure, I might be a little sad that she didn't aim higher -- especially if she had an interesting idea or two on her hands -- but hey, she's the author, the ride was still fun, and she didn't set me up for a letdown. And I can always write fanfiction to make it better anyway. If, however, the author aspired to write the Next Great American NovelTM, believes that he has, all but shouts this from the rooftops ... and yet has in fact failed miserably? That, I believe, is when the gloves come off.
I submit that Stephenie Meyer did not (at least initially) intend to write anything profound or life-changing when she began the Twilight Saga. She's given me the impression that she writes for fun more than for advancing her understanding of the craft. That said, when you write things like "and so the Lion fell in love with the Lamb," which -- corniness aside -- still seems to strain towards profundity, towards the idea that Bella and Edward's romance is something truly special ... then sorry, Meyer. That's asking for at least some level of criticism, especially if said romance is both the heart and soul of your books.
Was the (enormous) amount of snark and hate you've actually received called for? Almost certainly not, although I wish you would do more to reprimand the hardcore fanbase for those times when it gets out of hand.
This brings up something else I've been thinking about. I believe we clash so much when it comes to these (and other) books because of the life experiences and disparate personalities we bring into the mix. A lot of people find Bella's passiveness infuriating, as though it were the author's implicit indictment against female empowerment. Others take her at face value -- in other words, she's passive because that is her character within the story's context, not necessarily because she's supposed to be Meyer's poster girl for traditional female roles in the real world. While I have more sympathy for the first position, I completely understand the second one.
I'll take an example from one of my fandoms. A number of Fullmetal Alchemist fans -- especially those coming from "THE MANGA IS BETTER!" position -- loathe the first anime's version of Alphonse. They argue that he's too naive, too passive ... even at times Too Dumb To Live. He admires his older brother to the point of no longer being an equal partner in their quest to restore their bodies. Oh, and he's too kind-hearted. Hell, he's practically a pacifist. Forget the time he punched his brother square in the face because Edward had attempted to sacrifice himself needlessly, or the times he got angry enough to initiate a fight (which won't be mentioned here for the sake of not spoiling anything). He's such a terrible character! Not like manga!Al!
... Now, you see, other than the mental Flanderization manga fans can engage in at times, I understand where they're coming from. It doesn't change the fact that I honestly love both versions. First off, unless the crew working on an adaptation states from the start that they're trying to be as faithful to the original source material as possible, I couldn't care less if it diverges drastically from the original. All I ask is for the changes in said adaptation to not only make sense in the context of its new continuity, but to be well-done. Under that criteria, I don't expect first!anime!Al to be the same as manga!Al.
Second, there are times when I just like what I like. I could give you a thoughtful explanation on why I think first!anime!Al is awesome, but failing to convince in that manner, what do I have left to do except shrug, accept that we see the character differently, and move on? We all have characters that annoy us. The Alphonse Elric of the first anime doesn't annoy me at all, and in the context of the series I actually like that he's more deeply flawed there than in the manga. Others believe these flaws are just bad Flanderizations, which are sometimes strained to the breaking point in order to keep the plot going. (This is where some of the most irritating debates can break out, because how far our suspension of disbelief can go -- or even if it comes into play at all in a particular situation -- is awfully subjective.)
So who's right? Well, maybe I'm too easily pleased. Or maybe not. I just know that I'll always bring a little of where I've been and where I'm going into how I perceive FMA, manga and both anime adaptations alike. We all do with the things we watch/read/etc., and I believe it's nearly impossible to do otherwise. The same with me and Sam & Max, Homestar Runner, Disney's Gargoyles, etc. The same with Twilight and its fans.
So I suppose this is my tl;dr way of saying there are better ways of using our time than bashing mediocrity until we've reached the point of beating a dead horse. But, yeah. I don't often get into a ranty mood, or at least don't tend to stay in one long enough to write a whole LJ entry about it. So here we are!
... I think I'll go read a book now.