"Twilight" and tolerance trapped in a dead-end street
I was talking to someone recently about the "Twilight" series. I think she was a fan at one time, but slowly came to dislike the series, mostly because of the lackluster nature of the female protagonist, Bella.
In general, we're in agreement. The "Twilight" series is poorly written, and the movies based on it are dull and unintentionally funny.
I have never actually come close to throwing a soda at the movie screen until seeing the first film, and the scene in which Edward, the vampire and romantic hero, sparkles, as if a child slathered him in glue and dumped glitter on him at a crafts party.
Despite this laughable spectacle, Edward, at least, has an inner moral conflict and some depth of personality. The same cannot be said for Bella. Her lack of goals, her constant need to be rescued, and her inability to find any reason for life beyond choosing between Edward and his rival, Jacob, are deeply disconcerting.
At least one observer attributes this appalling self-abnegation to the fact that the author, Stephenie Meyer, is a Mormon.
And this is where we abruptly part company.
It's not the first time, and probably won't be the last, when an observer has commented on a trend he or she disagrees with and dismisses it as the fault of an entire religious group or political movement.
The observer's comments reminded me of a conference I attended some years ago. An Evangelical Christian organization was having a conference in the same hotel as our party. As a group of us walked past the function room where the Evangelicals met, some in our party felt compelled to smirk and make snarky remarks -- immediately betraying themselves as not being nearly as "open minded" as they apparently thought themselves to be.
Granted, this incident took when there was concern that Evangelical Christians had inappopriate influence over the president's decisions and attitudes.
But the people at the conference apparently thought this concern was an open invitation to put down an entire gathering of people they didn't even know and surely were not about to take time to meet -- just based on religious beliefs.
Stephenie Meyer doesn't have to qualify hers, and no one should attribute the merits of her books or lackthereof to them.
I am sorry Meyer created such a passive female protagonist who is so widely read and embraced, and I as a reader and arts editor reserve the right to criticize poor plot and character development and concern about the message this character sends.
But Meyer's religious views are not up to me to edit, evaluate or criticize, and she owes no apology or qualification to me or anyone else for them. I do not know if they inform her writing, and even if they do, I will never presume that she speaks for all followers of the Mormon faith or their views on gender roles.
After the "let's put down the Evangelicals because we are so far and away superior" episode at the conference, I do believe this -- tolerance is a two-way street, not a cul-de-sac where the inhabitants just circle around without looking for a way out.
In general, we're in agreement. The "Twilight" series is poorly written, and the movies based on it are dull and unintentionally funny.
I have never actually come close to throwing a soda at the movie screen until seeing the first film, and the scene in which Edward, the vampire and romantic hero, sparkles, as if a child slathered him in glue and dumped glitter on him at a crafts party.
Despite this laughable spectacle, Edward, at least, has an inner moral conflict and some depth of personality. The same cannot be said for Bella. Her lack of goals, her constant need to be rescued, and her inability to find any reason for life beyond choosing between Edward and his rival, Jacob, are deeply disconcerting.
At least one observer attributes this appalling self-abnegation to the fact that the author, Stephenie Meyer, is a Mormon.
And this is where we abruptly part company.
It's not the first time, and probably won't be the last, when an observer has commented on a trend he or she disagrees with and dismisses it as the fault of an entire religious group or political movement.
The observer's comments reminded me of a conference I attended some years ago. An Evangelical Christian organization was having a conference in the same hotel as our party. As a group of us walked past the function room where the Evangelicals met, some in our party felt compelled to smirk and make snarky remarks -- immediately betraying themselves as not being nearly as "open minded" as they apparently thought themselves to be.
Granted, this incident took when there was concern that Evangelical Christians had inappopriate influence over the president's decisions and attitudes.
But the people at the conference apparently thought this concern was an open invitation to put down an entire gathering of people they didn't even know and surely were not about to take time to meet -- just based on religious beliefs.
Stephenie Meyer doesn't have to qualify hers, and no one should attribute the merits of her books or lackthereof to them.
I am sorry Meyer created such a passive female protagonist who is so widely read and embraced, and I as a reader and arts editor reserve the right to criticize poor plot and character development and concern about the message this character sends.
But Meyer's religious views are not up to me to edit, evaluate or criticize, and she owes no apology or qualification to me or anyone else for them. I do not know if they inform her writing, and even if they do, I will never presume that she speaks for all followers of the Mormon faith or their views on gender roles.
After the "let's put down the Evangelicals because we are so far and away superior" episode at the conference, I do believe this -- tolerance is a two-way street, not a cul-de-sac where the inhabitants just circle around without looking for a way out.