The Twilight Saga, part 4

It is no secret that I am not Twilight’s number one fan. The first response I usually hear when I tell people this is the suggestion that perhaps I am secretly a Twifan deep down and am in a severe case of Twinial. This puts me in between a rock and a hard place*, for if I agree, I am joining the ranks of Mike the park ranger, and if I disagree, I am usually slammed with a variety of questions, most of which fall along the lines of, "OMG, how can you not just loooooove it?!" Eventually, every conversation usually boils down to the J-word, and I am accused of being jealous of Stephenie Meyer, Twilight, and the success the former has achieved with the latter.

*As opposed to being in between The Rock and a hard place.

In light of the aforementioned accusations, let it be said here and now (and in no uncertain terms) that there is not a single jealous bone, muscle, or tendon in my body when it comes to Stephenie Meyer or Twilight. While it is true that I certainly would not mind dumptrucks full of money arriving at my house on a daily basis, I also would not want to take the risk I am convinced Stephenie Meyer did—that is, entering a fiddle contest against the devil with the stakes being my soul against a #1 selling teen romance series.

The devil bowed his head because he knew that he'd been beat/ He laid that golden series on the ground at Stephie's feet

When it boils down to it, the scariest thing about the Twilight Saga is not the vampires, the werewolves, or even the writing (zing)—it is the fanbase. Fans of Twilight run the gamut from screaming preteens to hyperventilating quinquagenarians and everyone in between. Little girls read the books hoping their future husbands will be exactly like Edward (or, if they are really little girls, exactly like Jacob). Older women watch the movies and wonder why their husbands are not exactly like Edward. And the occasional guy who stumbles across the series cannot help but wonder why every woman in the world, regardless of age, wants her husband to be a distant, domineering, powerful creep with a thing for girls 1/6th his age.

By those standards, this is as close to Edward as a man can get.

Now, do not get me wrong. I am fully aware that with every major cultural phenomenon—especially with books and movies—there arises a large, devoted, nerdy following. Star Trek, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter (to name a few) all have a similar partisanship. All the heretofore mentioned groups have devotees who dress up to attend midnight screenings. All have disciples who rant and rave for hours on internet forums as to why their series is so much better than the others. And all of them even have conventions where fans can buy and sell truckloads of paraphernalia.

What separates Twilight fans from the previously mentioned ones, however, is the level at which Twilight fans operate. I would dare say that of any of the listed phenomena, Twilight has the fans that could most easily filed under "obsessed". If you do not believe me, just go to any opening-day movie showing. Yes, the Star Wars nerds will be in costume and having lightsaber duels; but it is all in good, lighthearted fun. Nowhere do you have girls literally screaming and gasping for breath whenever Obi Wan walks on the screen. (And I am sorry, ladies, but Ewan McGregor is ten times hotter than Robert Pattinson could ever dream of being.)

It's simple algebra, really.

And when it comes to homemade collectibles, Twilight fans take the cake. My mother recently told me about her run-in with something called the New Moon Experience, which is pretty much exactly what it sounds like. And what did she see during her sojourn? Vampire teeth necklaces, sparkle-in-the-sun-like-Edward cream, and pretty much everything on this list. (Take special note of the plush Bella womb, complete with stuffed zygote.)

How this can be construed as anything other than "really, really creepy" is beyond me.

Sadly, Twilight fans, as crazy as they are, have recently proven that they are a force to be reckoned with. New Moon was released in theaters a few weeks ago and—much to the surprise of everyone who has ever watched, you know, an actually good movie in their lives—it made more on its opening weekend than any movie. Any movie. Ever. (Even more than The Dark Knight, which was, you know, an actually good movie.) And thus it was proven that Twilight and the culture thereof cannot be stopped. For if a group of girls can prove that they have more zeal than comic book nerds—who, for the uninformed, are hands-down the most zealous people on the planet—then I suppose it is only a matter of time before they have completely taken over.

Le sigh.

And so it is.  But do not fear, fellow nerds.  Though we may have lost the battle, at least we still have our dignity—for you will never see a Star Wars fan with this on their wall:

The Twilight Saga, part 3

While the Twilight love story no doubt raises a slew of "awwww"s from the majority of the audience, it raises a few very large, very red flags to me. For starters, despite knowing that Edward is a vampire early on ("Say it. Out loud!"), people seem to forget that by virtue of being a vampire, he is actually quite old. Like, over 100 when Twilight starts old. And Bella? 17. Taking that into consideration, Twilight is no longer the story of a teenage boy liking a teenage girl. Rather, it is the story of a 102-year-old man—who has not been with a woman in quite some time, as he makes clear—who breaks into a 17-year-old girl's bedroom to watch her sleep. And for some reason, not only is this not frowned on, the exact opposite happens—people think it is the cutest thing ever. Keep in mind, though: in any other context, this situation would involve people instantly crying "Foul!" and a visit from Chris Hansen.

Why don't you have a seat right there, Edward.

Another red flag is raised by how quickly Bella not only falls in like with Edward, but how quickly after he leaves she starts hanging out with Jacob, and then how much she jumps back into Edward's stone cold hands when he returns. Now, those who know me know that I have nothing against romance and falling for people—in fact, those who know me best could probably retell stories from my past where, romantically speaking, I was even more of a girl than Bella.

strictly romantically speaking

But the way that Bella pines and bounces over/between guys basically establishes her as a girl who not only wants a guy, but needs a guy to be complete. Where that gets scary is when the aforementioned hormonally-imbalanced teenagers read the books and start blurring the line between being able to be with someone and not being able to be without someone. And that is precisely the moment at which girls do utterly stupid things, thinking they will be able to be with their guy again. And that, my friends, is a perfectly normal and healthy mindset which always leads to good results.

Oh, wait...

Perhaps the largest and most crimson of flags (you know, the ones Max Hall hates) comes from Stephenie Meyer's strange double-standard of what it means to be an independent woman—or an independent woman part II, if you are of the Beyonce persuasion. Over the course of the books, Bella travels her obligatory (and textbook) character arc, with each plot point ending in her becoming stronger. Great, right? It would be, except for at the end of the saga, Bella is forced to sacrifice everything about her past, her life, and her beliefs and completely conform to Edward's lifestyle, his family, and his convictions in order to be with him. So in the end, we have a story that supports being an independent girl, as long as you do everything your guy says—including joining the ranks of the undead.

strictly, strictly romantically speaking

Coming up next... the Twilight culture. Or, as I like to refer to it, the Cult of the Virgin (Until Book 4, When They're Married And It's OK).

12th-century history jokes, anyone?

The Twilight Saga, part 2

The Twilight Saga consists of four books, all with cosmothemed titles—Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, and Breaking Dawn. A fifth book, Midnight Sun, was planned and half-written, but then abandoned, presumably because Stephenie Meyer grew tired of swimming through gallons of Twilight revenue, Scrooge McDuck-style.

The S is for Stephenie.

Now, from here on in, I am going to be discussing various parts of the books, so a big Spoiler Alert to the very small percentage of people who have not yet read them, but who still have the desire to. (Which, in all honesty, probably amounts to nobody at this point, because I think everyone is pretty much firmly rooted in their camps, whether they be Team Edward, Team Jacob, or Team Does-Not-Live-My-Life-Vicariously-Through-A-Harlequin-Teen-Romance.)

Not Pictured: Team Sane

That last part is a good note to start on. One only has to open any of the books to any random page to see that the Twilight Saga's cup runneth over with sexual tension. From the moment when Edward and Bella meet to when he has to suck another vampire's venom out of her system (in an amazingly thinly-veiled analogy to sexual purity) to when she finally commits necrophilia—ignore it all you want, but that is what sleeping with someone who is dead is, regardless of how sexy his hair is—the books are full of raging libidos. However, since Stephenie Meyer knew her audience would be comprised primarily of screaming 14-year-olds (and 40-year-olds who scream like 14-year-olds, but more on that later), she toned down the tension and put it in teen-acceptable terms.

Stephenie Meyer, hard at work

The problem with doing so is many-fold, the most prevalent of which being this: when you tone down romance novel situations (i.e. "He grabbed her heaving bosoms, caressing her silky white skin.") to teen levels (i.e. "He touched me with his cold hands, sending a chill to my very core."), it still brings all those feelings that romance novels bring (you know what I am talking about), but now it introduces them to a whole new audience—an audience that already has a hard enough time figuring out what their hormones are telling them without the aid of what is essentially PG13 porn.

The original Twilight cover

At the core of the Twilight books exists a love triangle between Bella (a girl), Edward (a vampire), and Jacob (a werewolf, if you could not see that one coming). Actually, I guess it is more of a love V, because to my knowledge, Edward and Jacob never have feelings for one another. Although, who knows? That very well may be the subject of the Twilight Saga's next book, Midnight Sun Cowboy. It is no secret that Bella is in like with Edward, but when he leaves her (to save her, like in Moulin Rouge), she immediately throws herself into the waiting arms of Jacob—and by "immediately", I mean she throws herself off a cliff in hopes that Edward will save her before she splats at the bottom. You know, what every teenage girl should do if her boyfriend leaves her.

This one is free, Stephenie.

In the end, Bella ends up with Edward (surprise) and they get married. While the subject of "How can we grow old together when one of us is immortal?" bounces between them, it only truly comes to fruition after Bella becomes pregnant. Because the baby is half-human, half-vampire (like Blade), it has all sorts of powers, including super-strength—super-strength to super-kick her mom's spine in super-half during delivery. And if that was not enough, the baby also has the power of super-placenta, which eventually results in, as readers of my previous posts may remember me mentioning, Edward performing a cesarean section on Bella with his teeth! After the thorough trouncing that is childbirth, Bella has one foot in the grave. Edward has no choice but to turn her into a vampire to save her life. Precious, right? Oh wait, aside from the utter morbidity of that situation, did I mention that Jacob, Bella's former semi-beau, sees Bella's baby and immediately falls in love with it? And not the "oh, I love that baby" sort of love... the "oh, I love that baby" sort of love.

Hey cutie. Nice umbilical cord.

I think that shall be all for today, but do not fret. There is plenty more yet to come.

The Twilight Saga, part 1

I think it would be a fair assumption on my part to say that anyone and everyone reading this—be they friends, family members, or Mike, the rosy-cheeked, dry-humored park ranger who lead the tour of Jewel Cave that my friends and I went on during an impromptu 2005 weekend sojourn to South Dakota—has heard of/seen/been introduced to, in one way or another, the phenomenon known as The Twilight Saga.

Pictured: Mike, park ranger

(Actually, now that I think about it, it would not surprise me in the least to find out that Mike is Twilight's #1 fan. In fact, it would not surprise me in the least to find out that Mike is not only the president of the Black Hills chapter of the Twilight Fan Club, but he has also written multiple volumes of fan fiction entitled "Mikelight", where he has written himself into the story as the Cullen's long-lost cousin who has become a park ranger because he too cannot bear the thought of taking human life and now must spend his days giving tours of caves so that nobody can discover his shadowy yet sparkly secret. Not saying anything bad about Mike, of course. He just seems the type.)

Pictured: Mike, superfan

If, for whatever reason, you are unfamiliar with the subject, allow me to expound for you. The Twilight Saga—named "Saga", of course, because once the fourth book came to be, they could no longer call it a "trilogy", and "quadruplogy" just sounded stupid—is your typical Boy Meets Girl story, wherein Girl moves to a new town, Girl meets Boy, Girl falls head-over-heels in like with Boy, Girl tries to get close to Boy only to have Boy push her away, Girl gets sad, Boy finally opens up to Girl, informing her that he knows of a deep, dark secret: vampires. Oh, snap.

Bolt jokes, anyone?

From there, Twilight gets weird. Like, really weird. Like, rip-open-your-uterus-with-my-vampire-fangs weird. (And no, that is not a euphemism.) But I digress; we shall discuss all in due time. Now, I am aware that it is fairly old hat to make fun of—in blog form, no less—Twilight and all that is entailed therein. The main problem with this is, of course, not that Twilight is unworthy of mockery, for that is most-certainly not the case. Rather, the problem is that those who poke fun at Twilight usually go for the easy shots; and easy shots, by their very nature, are oft times the weakest of arguments. I mean, honestly, there is a lot more to talk about than the fact that Edward glimmers in the sunlight.

Edward's sun-sparkle

That being the case, my intention over the next few posts will be not to mock; rather, I merely wish to share with you a few of my opinions regarding the saga that is in no exaggeration of the word invading our lives. And if, along the way, a snide comment or two stems forth from my mouth (or fingers, as it were), know that they are legitimate concerns that have valid points... at least, valid in the eyes of the guy who spent five (5) posts talking about how he has been wronged by the post office.

Tobias's sun-sparkle