In Twilight land, everyone dazzles you until your eyes hurt.
I finally grit my teeth and finished it this morning. In writing this review, I'm trying to figure out what exactly this book is and what it wants to do.
I. Bella.
The heroine of the drama and the drama of the story.
Meyer said in an interview that the book was based around Pride and Prejudice. A suave, unfriendly gentleman falls in hate, lust, and then love with a prideful young female.
I can see the flimsy frame of Austen's story. The Byronic Edward is not (quite) Mr. Darcy, however, and Bella is a far cry from the wise and competent Elizabeth Bennet.
Bella's has unhealthy self-esteem. It doesn't stop her from realizing her own perfect specialness. She disregards the people at school and in town who attempt to be nice to her. Yeah, they don't share her interests, not that we're specifically told what her interests are or if she has any ambitions for when she grows up, but at least they go out of their way to welcome her.
They're still unworthy, though, and I can't figure out why.
Bella's friend Jessica isn't shown to be self-centered or materialistic until the author tells us she is. Jessica's cardinal sin is her preoccupation with her boyfriend, which Bella doesn't feel is as worthwhile as her love for Edward.
In Twilight land, all are equal, but some are more equal than others.
The low self-esteem that Bella displays is not, for some reason, a problem. Her constant anxieties and paranoia aren't symptoms of a disorder, which would have been more believable, but are somehow evidence of her perfect selflessness.
I know this is a fantasy, but the idea of Bella intentionally making herself powerless and vulnerable in order to be considered a "good guy" is disturbing.
Things are best for Bella when she is obedient and unassuming. She makes very few choices for herself that turn out well. The biggest risk she takes is pursuing a relationship with Edward. Edward may want to suck her blood, he may say he is fighting the need to kill her, but every reader knows he won't.
Among many reasons, not only are we assured many, many times that Bella and Edward's love is epic, true, and heartbreaking, Bella is also the narrator. She's not going to die.
II. Using Adverbs and Narration.
Stephanie Meyer likes words. This is an assumption, but she says she was an English major, so I guess it holds some validity.
She uses "strong" words every chance she can get: "somber," "glower," "joyous," "delusional," "devastating," etc. These are fine words, but the less they're used, the stronger they are, and Meyer and Bella use them often.
When I was in elementary school, it seemed like when everyone took Language Arts, they would get a list. The list would be titled "Better Words to Use Instead of Said" or something. It would have words like "replied," "insisted," "exclaimed," or "chortled." These, too, are good words, but I soon learned that "said" is still the best choice. It's technically a weak word, but its invisibility is useful.
"Said" does not describe what a person feels or thinks, it just indicates who's talking. Good. A reader should know what a character is thinking or feeling from what they say or how they are described.
Show don't tell. It's a mantra in many writing classes.
If you have to tell, make sure it's damn important. Trust the readers to pick up the clues. If your character is yelling, than an explanation point will get the point across nicely. Adding "he yelled" or "he threatened" is redundant.
For example:
"So if we'd met...oh, in a dark alley or something..." I trailed off.
"It took everything I had not to jump up in the middle of that class full of children and -" He stopped abruptly, looking away. (269)
Trailed off and stopped abruptly are completely unnecessary with this sort of dialogue. The ellipses and dash communicate the character's hesitance well enough. We get it.
Also problematic is the point of view. Bella is the love-interest and queen-like main character. Can we really trust her to be objective about everything when she keeps going off on tangents about how horrible school is and how great Edward is supposed to be? How do we know she isn't superficial when she spends so much time describing how beautiful Edward and his family are?
When I began the book, I decided it would have been a lot easier to read it if it were in third person limited. Bella's "strong" vocabulary - "despairing," "deliberating," etc - makes her sound stuck up. Nothing she does makes her observations sound trustworthy. I had so much difficulty liking Bella when I started, trusting her seemed out of the question.
Just how great is Edward, anyway? Does Bella really need to remind us every chance she gets?
III. Edward.
He tilted his head to one side, and his eyes were curious. "I dazzle people?"
"You haven't noticed? Do you think everybody gets their way so easily?"
He ignored my questions. "Do I dazzle you?"
"Frequently," I admitted. (168)
Edward and Bella at a restaurant when they begin to try and get to know each other. I liked that part of the book, where they were trying to learn what the other person was like.
One of my favorite parts is when we actually see Edward's room. "Yay!" I thought. "He can talk more about himself beyond being mysterious and pretty and having a tragical past one hundred years ago!"
He did not.
Because we get to know Edward through Bella, we get to know him as the person who makes her the center of his world. Whether he fights, yells, bites, or loves, it is all for Bella. He is the shiny, "dazzling" shell and Bella is the gooey center.
She is the main character. He is the eye candy. He glitters with sugar.
I could go on, but Meyer has her own descriptions for him:
He lay perfectly still in the grass, his shirt open over his sculpted, incandescent chest, his scintillating arms bare. His glistening, pale lavender lids were shut, though of course he didn't sleep. A perfect statue, carved of some unknown stone, smooth like marble, glittering like crystal. (260)
Edward is hot. I am officially okay with hot vampires. It makes me suspicious, though, to read about someone described so lovingly. Is Bella a) really, really amazed at his sparkle-in-the-sun powers, b) salivating with lust for sex that will not be had, or c) again, really superficial?
His personality is supposed to be perfect along with his killer bod. There aren't many flaws to balance his physical and mental perfection. Like I said, in Twilight land, all are equal, but some are more equal than others.
I wish Meyer would come out and say what Edward really is: arrogant. His speeches of "I love you but I want to feast on your flesh don't come near me I suffer" sound as faux-selfless as Bella. I have a weakness for fictional, jerky, cool guys who go gooey over women, especially if they are FICTIONAL, but I want the narrator to be honest about it.
What also stopped me from loving Edward unconditionally is how much he orders Bella around.
Because Bella is made so vulnerable, it can be assumed he knows better because he is confident and strong. He is the man, after all, and though Bella is embarrassed when she faints and he takes her to the nurse's office, they are both playing into very hetero-normative roles.
IV. Relationship.
Even Bella recognizes, by the end of the book, that there's some inequality in her relationship with Edward: "I can't always be Lois Lane," I insisted. "I want to be Superman, too." (474)
The writing in the last fifth of the book is somewhat more self-aware than the first four-fifths. Meyer decided to give the book an actual villain to give it more plot, for one thing, but I digress.
Bella and Edward pursue a relationship that is very, very, very naive, especially considering Edward is, oh, one hundred years her senior. He should know better. Her self-confidence can barely fill a thimble; his power and mind-reading (of everyone but Bella) means he could kick the ass of every ninja, ever. He knows better than her because of his experience, strength, and intelligence, and reminds her often. His language toward her is often disdainful, something that really kept me from enjoying the book. It's disconcerting. These two are not on equal footing.
Then there's the abstinence. It's suspiciously convenient Edward can only go so far with Bella for fear of biting her, but they can chastely kiss and sleep in the same bed together. There's a certain eroticism in waiting and holding off, but this stretches believability more than the book already does.
Bella goes on and on about how much she cares for Edward and wants to be with him. No, it doesn't fit the tween-tone of the first book, but how burning is this passion if Bella doesn't even hint at getting past first base? When Edward starts getting to know her, she isn't that shy anymore, but she doesn't even consider this.
Edward's more of a father than a lover with all his "Let me take care of you," "I know what's best for you," and "Let me go out of my way for you" stuff. It's weird. Bella is also more a kid than anything as she talks about worshiping him. He's her "angel," a protector and father-figure. Are they lovers or family?
V. Family Structure.
Perfect families are really, really important in Twilight-land. Really.
Bella comes from parents who married young and divorced early. Because of the pro-abstinence undertones (overtones?) of Bella and Edward's relationship, I'm wondering if "married young" is a euphemism for "unplanned pregnancy." Would Bella's terrible self-esteem be from thinking she's a "whoops baby?"
Er, don't mind me. I'm just thinking out loud at this point.
Edward's surrogate family, in direct contrast to Bella's broken (?) one, is practically perfect in every way. Multiple, gorgeous kids. Loving, open, gorgeous parents. Lots of hunting trips (for bears, wild cats, and BLOOD). A big beautiful house as flawlessly white as they are. (Flawlessly white? Would it have been weird if one of the adopted vampire kids were black?) Super powered baseball games. They are the "dazzling" vampire Brady Bunch.
Far from being annoyed at seeing perfection she cannot hope to attain, Bella wants to be introduced into the fold. Because they're the Cullens, they take her in immediately. Edward likes her. Why shouldn't they? Rosalie has a point when she hesitates to make room for Bella. They don't know her very well and she isn't one of them. Then again, Edward and Bella have only been together for a couple days and their love is shining and EPIC, so logic is something that has flown out the window at this point.
Well, who cares? Bella is happy. She has friends as special as she secretly knows herself to be. Only big, inclusive families can be perfect and joyful. Now she can be joyful, too.
VI. Climax.
Twilight is exactly five hundred pages long, perhaps another hint toward the perfection that appears to be a theme in the series: perfect "selflessness," perfect boys, perfect abstinence, perfect families, perfect white skin, and perfectly straight teeth.
In the last one hundred twenty five pages, a little more than the last fifth of the book, action adventure happens. Up until that part, I was almost sure that the fluffy, plotless romance was the plot. Guess not, though, because a bad dude named James who hasn't been mentioned beyond the introduction appears.
He wants to hurt Bella. He is evil. The Cullens rush to attack and help.
It's awesome.
The writing, for a little while, becomes tighter and more interesting. There's suspense! Running! Hotel rooms! Story structure!
The adverbs are still there, but they aren't as cloying. Also, when Bella and Edward's romance is no longer center stage, it vastly improves. Bella's farewell letter to Edward, I concede, is sweet. Those two crazy kids might just have a chance. I still won't admit that Bella's clever but ill-fated attempt to rescue her mom was completely selfless. It just seemed sort of convenient that she would be in danger for the climax of the story.
I would have liked it if James and the other vampires had been introduced earlier, but you know what? I'm so relieved the book actually went somewhere, I won't dwell on that topic. I'll only say James is a villain's villain. He doesn't yell, he entraps, and he waits.
The novel gracefully slides into a denouement at a hospital, followed by prom, which Bella cannot stand but end up going to anyway. Even she knows there's a story to finish and the kiss Edward presses to Bella's neck is worth reading.
VII. Geeks Suck.
I guess I could talk about the confining roles of women in Twilight land: mother (Renée, Esme), cute sister (Alice), victim (Bella), and jealous bitch (Rosalie, Lauren Mallory). That seems a little too picky, even for this extended critique of the book. The female roles are still important, too. Instead, I think I'll talk about geeks.
Bella already snubs the idea of hanging out with losers at her new high school (and the rest of the high school), but she wants to be ignored though not be alone. Instead of seeking out people who may feel as insecure and alone as her, Bella wants to be with Edward's beautiful clique/siblings.
When Bella almost gets hit by a car in the school parking lot, only to be saved by dashing, dazzling Edward, the driver is Tyler Crowley. To make up for nearly killing her, Tyler asks Bella to the prom. Somehow, this is completely logical to him. Bella turns him down. Tyler tells people he'll take Bella, anyway. He is blissfully unaware that Bella and Edward are sticking together like (chaste) glue.
I can think of only one sort of person in high school who would be as socially inept and oblivious as our Tyler. He's a geek.
Here comes the epilogue! Edward has tricked Bella into going to the prom, because he doesn't have to tell her anything. Even when she cries out of frustration, he knows better.
Edward gets a call. Tyler has showed up at Bella's house, ready to take her to the prom. Edward laughs. Then he talks to Tyler and explains that Bella will remain unavailable indefinitely.
"No offense. And I'm sorry about your evening." [Edward] didn't sound sorry at all. And then he snapped the phone shut, a huge smirk on his face. (483)
Then, despite Bella's teary protests, Edward takes her to the prom, and they have a wonderful time. The most beautiful people there are her, Edward, and Edward's family, in their perfect clothes with their perfect looks.
If Tyler goes to the prom later, we are not told. Bella is the narrator, after all, and she worries about other things, like choosing whether to dance with Edward or Jacob Black. (Edward.)
For all we know, Tyler could have gone home, miserably dragging his feet, his heart and spirits crushed by the new girl and her mysterious, popular friends. He might go home and lay in his bed, wondering why he isn't as perfect and strong and handsome as Edward Cullen. In fact, he tried to be like Edward when he ordered Bella to go to the dance with him! He ordered her ineptly, but he ordered her just the same. Tyler may realize that he is ordinary, small, imperfect, and just not good enough.
That's okay, though.
Edward and Bella will have a wonderful, perfect night at the prom.
In Twilight land, everyone worthy of notice is perfect, and some are more perfect than others.
I. Bella.
The heroine of the drama and the drama of the story.
Meyer said in an interview that the book was based around Pride and Prejudice. A suave, unfriendly gentleman falls in hate, lust, and then love with a prideful young female.
I can see the flimsy frame of Austen's story. The Byronic Edward is not (quite) Mr. Darcy, however, and Bella is a far cry from the wise and competent Elizabeth Bennet.
Bella's has unhealthy self-esteem. It doesn't stop her from realizing her own perfect specialness. She disregards the people at school and in town who attempt to be nice to her. Yeah, they don't share her interests, not that we're specifically told what her interests are or if she has any ambitions for when she grows up, but at least they go out of their way to welcome her.
They're still unworthy, though, and I can't figure out why.
Bella's friend Jessica isn't shown to be self-centered or materialistic until the author tells us she is. Jessica's cardinal sin is her preoccupation with her boyfriend, which Bella doesn't feel is as worthwhile as her love for Edward.
In Twilight land, all are equal, but some are more equal than others.
The low self-esteem that Bella displays is not, for some reason, a problem. Her constant anxieties and paranoia aren't symptoms of a disorder, which would have been more believable, but are somehow evidence of her perfect selflessness.
I know this is a fantasy, but the idea of Bella intentionally making herself powerless and vulnerable in order to be considered a "good guy" is disturbing.
Things are best for Bella when she is obedient and unassuming. She makes very few choices for herself that turn out well. The biggest risk she takes is pursuing a relationship with Edward. Edward may want to suck her blood, he may say he is fighting the need to kill her, but every reader knows he won't.
Among many reasons, not only are we assured many, many times that Bella and Edward's love is epic, true, and heartbreaking, Bella is also the narrator. She's not going to die.
II. Using Adverbs and Narration.
Stephanie Meyer likes words. This is an assumption, but she says she was an English major, so I guess it holds some validity.
She uses "strong" words every chance she can get: "somber," "glower," "joyous," "delusional," "devastating," etc. These are fine words, but the less they're used, the stronger they are, and Meyer and Bella use them often.
When I was in elementary school, it seemed like when everyone took Language Arts, they would get a list. The list would be titled "Better Words to Use Instead of Said" or something. It would have words like "replied," "insisted," "exclaimed," or "chortled." These, too, are good words, but I soon learned that "said" is still the best choice. It's technically a weak word, but its invisibility is useful.
"Said" does not describe what a person feels or thinks, it just indicates who's talking. Good. A reader should know what a character is thinking or feeling from what they say or how they are described.
Show don't tell. It's a mantra in many writing classes.
If you have to tell, make sure it's damn important. Trust the readers to pick up the clues. If your character is yelling, than an explanation point will get the point across nicely. Adding "he yelled" or "he threatened" is redundant.
For example:
"So if we'd met...oh, in a dark alley or something..." I trailed off.
"It took everything I had not to jump up in the middle of that class full of children and -" He stopped abruptly, looking away. (269)
Trailed off and stopped abruptly are completely unnecessary with this sort of dialogue. The ellipses and dash communicate the character's hesitance well enough. We get it.
Also problematic is the point of view. Bella is the love-interest and queen-like main character. Can we really trust her to be objective about everything when she keeps going off on tangents about how horrible school is and how great Edward is supposed to be? How do we know she isn't superficial when she spends so much time describing how beautiful Edward and his family are?
When I began the book, I decided it would have been a lot easier to read it if it were in third person limited. Bella's "strong" vocabulary - "despairing," "deliberating," etc - makes her sound stuck up. Nothing she does makes her observations sound trustworthy. I had so much difficulty liking Bella when I started, trusting her seemed out of the question.
Just how great is Edward, anyway? Does Bella really need to remind us every chance she gets?
III. Edward.
He tilted his head to one side, and his eyes were curious. "I dazzle people?"
"You haven't noticed? Do you think everybody gets their way so easily?"
He ignored my questions. "Do I dazzle you?"
"Frequently," I admitted. (168)
Edward and Bella at a restaurant when they begin to try and get to know each other. I liked that part of the book, where they were trying to learn what the other person was like.
One of my favorite parts is when we actually see Edward's room. "Yay!" I thought. "He can talk more about himself beyond being mysterious and pretty and having a tragical past one hundred years ago!"
He did not.
Because we get to know Edward through Bella, we get to know him as the person who makes her the center of his world. Whether he fights, yells, bites, or loves, it is all for Bella. He is the shiny, "dazzling" shell and Bella is the gooey center.
She is the main character. He is the eye candy. He glitters with sugar.
I could go on, but Meyer has her own descriptions for him:
He lay perfectly still in the grass, his shirt open over his sculpted, incandescent chest, his scintillating arms bare. His glistening, pale lavender lids were shut, though of course he didn't sleep. A perfect statue, carved of some unknown stone, smooth like marble, glittering like crystal. (260)
Edward is hot. I am officially okay with hot vampires. It makes me suspicious, though, to read about someone described so lovingly. Is Bella a) really, really amazed at his sparkle-in-the-sun powers, b) salivating with lust for sex that will not be had, or c) again, really superficial?
His personality is supposed to be perfect along with his killer bod. There aren't many flaws to balance his physical and mental perfection. Like I said, in Twilight land, all are equal, but some are more equal than others.
I wish Meyer would come out and say what Edward really is: arrogant. His speeches of "I love you but I want to feast on your flesh don't come near me I suffer" sound as faux-selfless as Bella. I have a weakness for fictional, jerky, cool guys who go gooey over women, especially if they are FICTIONAL, but I want the narrator to be honest about it.
What also stopped me from loving Edward unconditionally is how much he orders Bella around.
Because Bella is made so vulnerable, it can be assumed he knows better because he is confident and strong. He is the man, after all, and though Bella is embarrassed when she faints and he takes her to the nurse's office, they are both playing into very hetero-normative roles.
IV. Relationship.
Even Bella recognizes, by the end of the book, that there's some inequality in her relationship with Edward: "I can't always be Lois Lane," I insisted. "I want to be Superman, too." (474)
The writing in the last fifth of the book is somewhat more self-aware than the first four-fifths. Meyer decided to give the book an actual villain to give it more plot, for one thing, but I digress.
Bella and Edward pursue a relationship that is very, very, very naive, especially considering Edward is, oh, one hundred years her senior. He should know better. Her self-confidence can barely fill a thimble; his power and mind-reading (of everyone but Bella) means he could kick the ass of every ninja, ever. He knows better than her because of his experience, strength, and intelligence, and reminds her often. His language toward her is often disdainful, something that really kept me from enjoying the book. It's disconcerting. These two are not on equal footing.
Then there's the abstinence. It's suspiciously convenient Edward can only go so far with Bella for fear of biting her, but they can chastely kiss and sleep in the same bed together. There's a certain eroticism in waiting and holding off, but this stretches believability more than the book already does.
Bella goes on and on about how much she cares for Edward and wants to be with him. No, it doesn't fit the tween-tone of the first book, but how burning is this passion if Bella doesn't even hint at getting past first base? When Edward starts getting to know her, she isn't that shy anymore, but she doesn't even consider this.
Edward's more of a father than a lover with all his "Let me take care of you," "I know what's best for you," and "Let me go out of my way for you" stuff. It's weird. Bella is also more a kid than anything as she talks about worshiping him. He's her "angel," a protector and father-figure. Are they lovers or family?
V. Family Structure.
Perfect families are really, really important in Twilight-land. Really.
Bella comes from parents who married young and divorced early. Because of the pro-abstinence undertones (overtones?) of Bella and Edward's relationship, I'm wondering if "married young" is a euphemism for "unplanned pregnancy." Would Bella's terrible self-esteem be from thinking she's a "whoops baby?"
Er, don't mind me. I'm just thinking out loud at this point.
Edward's surrogate family, in direct contrast to Bella's broken (?) one, is practically perfect in every way. Multiple, gorgeous kids. Loving, open, gorgeous parents. Lots of hunting trips (for bears, wild cats, and BLOOD). A big beautiful house as flawlessly white as they are. (Flawlessly white? Would it have been weird if one of the adopted vampire kids were black?) Super powered baseball games. They are the "dazzling" vampire Brady Bunch.
Far from being annoyed at seeing perfection she cannot hope to attain, Bella wants to be introduced into the fold. Because they're the Cullens, they take her in immediately. Edward likes her. Why shouldn't they? Rosalie has a point when she hesitates to make room for Bella. They don't know her very well and she isn't one of them. Then again, Edward and Bella have only been together for a couple days and their love is shining and EPIC, so logic is something that has flown out the window at this point.
Well, who cares? Bella is happy. She has friends as special as she secretly knows herself to be. Only big, inclusive families can be perfect and joyful. Now she can be joyful, too.
VI. Climax.
Twilight is exactly five hundred pages long, perhaps another hint toward the perfection that appears to be a theme in the series: perfect "selflessness," perfect boys, perfect abstinence, perfect families, perfect white skin, and perfectly straight teeth.
In the last one hundred twenty five pages, a little more than the last fifth of the book, action adventure happens. Up until that part, I was almost sure that the fluffy, plotless romance was the plot. Guess not, though, because a bad dude named James who hasn't been mentioned beyond the introduction appears.
He wants to hurt Bella. He is evil. The Cullens rush to attack and help.
It's awesome.
The writing, for a little while, becomes tighter and more interesting. There's suspense! Running! Hotel rooms! Story structure!
The adverbs are still there, but they aren't as cloying. Also, when Bella and Edward's romance is no longer center stage, it vastly improves. Bella's farewell letter to Edward, I concede, is sweet. Those two crazy kids might just have a chance. I still won't admit that Bella's clever but ill-fated attempt to rescue her mom was completely selfless. It just seemed sort of convenient that she would be in danger for the climax of the story.
I would have liked it if James and the other vampires had been introduced earlier, but you know what? I'm so relieved the book actually went somewhere, I won't dwell on that topic. I'll only say James is a villain's villain. He doesn't yell, he entraps, and he waits.
The novel gracefully slides into a denouement at a hospital, followed by prom, which Bella cannot stand but end up going to anyway. Even she knows there's a story to finish and the kiss Edward presses to Bella's neck is worth reading.
VII. Geeks Suck.
I guess I could talk about the confining roles of women in Twilight land: mother (Renée, Esme), cute sister (Alice), victim (Bella), and jealous bitch (Rosalie, Lauren Mallory). That seems a little too picky, even for this extended critique of the book. The female roles are still important, too. Instead, I think I'll talk about geeks.
Bella already snubs the idea of hanging out with losers at her new high school (and the rest of the high school), but she wants to be ignored though not be alone. Instead of seeking out people who may feel as insecure and alone as her, Bella wants to be with Edward's beautiful clique/siblings.
When Bella almost gets hit by a car in the school parking lot, only to be saved by dashing, dazzling Edward, the driver is Tyler Crowley. To make up for nearly killing her, Tyler asks Bella to the prom. Somehow, this is completely logical to him. Bella turns him down. Tyler tells people he'll take Bella, anyway. He is blissfully unaware that Bella and Edward are sticking together like (chaste) glue.
I can think of only one sort of person in high school who would be as socially inept and oblivious as our Tyler. He's a geek.
Here comes the epilogue! Edward has tricked Bella into going to the prom, because he doesn't have to tell her anything. Even when she cries out of frustration, he knows better.
Edward gets a call. Tyler has showed up at Bella's house, ready to take her to the prom. Edward laughs. Then he talks to Tyler and explains that Bella will remain unavailable indefinitely.
"No offense. And I'm sorry about your evening." [Edward] didn't sound sorry at all. And then he snapped the phone shut, a huge smirk on his face. (483)
Then, despite Bella's teary protests, Edward takes her to the prom, and they have a wonderful time. The most beautiful people there are her, Edward, and Edward's family, in their perfect clothes with their perfect looks.
If Tyler goes to the prom later, we are not told. Bella is the narrator, after all, and she worries about other things, like choosing whether to dance with Edward or Jacob Black. (Edward.)
For all we know, Tyler could have gone home, miserably dragging his feet, his heart and spirits crushed by the new girl and her mysterious, popular friends. He might go home and lay in his bed, wondering why he isn't as perfect and strong and handsome as Edward Cullen. In fact, he tried to be like Edward when he ordered Bella to go to the dance with him! He ordered her ineptly, but he ordered her just the same. Tyler may realize that he is ordinary, small, imperfect, and just not good enough.
That's okay, though.
Edward and Bella will have a wonderful, perfect night at the prom.
In Twilight land, everyone worthy of notice is perfect, and some are more perfect than others.