Great literature will teach you something about the human condition. Poor literature can only tell you about the people who read it. This makes the trashy stuff all the more fascinating, for despite all the ways it fails as a narrative, there will be hordes of people willing themselves to believe in it, like unwashed masses scratching their newest lottery ticket.
A great book stands on its own across centuries, a
metaphysical pyramid of Egypt, even if time chipw away at certain
elements like religion or sexual politics. Poor literature is fragile. The slightest bit of critical thinking topples it like a house of cards.
But I’m getting ahead of myself:
“Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of
iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for
the formation of the first link on one memorable day.”
You don’t have to recognize that
quote*, or know when it was written or by whom for it to resonate. Great
literature has meaning and
resonance regardless of who is reading it and when.
Pulp fiction, on the other hand, gives
its readers the choice to believe or not. I don’t mean this
as a compliment. This means that the characters are so inconsistent, the
plot twists so contrived, that for a reader to invest in it, they are choosing
to believe the unbelievable.
Enough has been said about how god-awful the Twilight books are as works of literature (This is the place to go for anyone who still needs convincing), but not nearly enough has been said about why they are beloved best-sellers. The short answer is that they play into and play up the worst tendencies of insecure teenage girls, and the women they sometimes become.
Enough has been said about how god-awful the Twilight books are as works of literature (This is the place to go for anyone who still needs convincing), but not nearly enough has been said about why they are beloved best-sellers. The short answer is that they play into and play up the worst tendencies of insecure teenage girls, and the women they sometimes become.
Much
has been made of how romantic lead Edward Cullen (the inspiration for Christian
Gray, who we’ll get to in a later post) fits the abusive boyfriend profile
perfectly. In Eclipse he even dismantles Bella’s
car to keep her from seeing nice-guy Werewolf Jacob Black.
But
that’s okay, because it turns out the adorable nice-guy Jacob from the first
two books has become asshole attempted-rapist Jacob, so Edward was right to try
and protect her. Adorable Jacob returns** in book four, just in time to fall in
love with Bella and Edward’s infant daughter, conceived that magical night when
Edward covered Bella in bruises. Jacob “imprints” on the newborn baby, meaning
they are destined to be together forever. No one asks what the child thinks of
this, because of course she is too young to speak. I like to think that when
that when the time comes for that conversation, the words “How old in dog
years?” will be uttered at least once.
I
have nothing against perverted love stories. I am an unabashed fan of Clive Barker. But Stephenie Meyer plays all this insanity as the most romantic
quadrangle ever.
In
short, the kid fell out of the tree house.
These
characters don’t make any sense on their own terms, or in terms of the world we
live in. But they are perfect for their audience. For those of you who never
were an adolescent girl, allow me to explain:
In
the real world, lived in by Meyers’ readers, young girls’ self esteem plummets
when they hit puberty. This is because when a girl becomes a woman her body is
no longer something to be celebrated. It is something to be dealt with. I’m not
putting the blame on fashion models here. Boys have to deal with ridiculously
proportioned role models too. But they don’t get periods. They don’t have to
shave unless they want to.
The
earlier menarche hits, the more likely a girl is to be insecure through her
teen years. It isn’t just annoying. It’s shameful. It’s gross. We double bag
our tampons and hide them at the back of the cupboard.
And
then there’s the hair. Shave it! Wax it! Pluck It! Defend yourself against
onslaught of follicles that will never stop their siege on your body. Strike
them down and they will become more in-grown than you can possibly imagine.
A
woman’s body is something that needs to be dealt with, not loved...or at least,
not loved until it has been dealt
with. I like to think most women grow out of this hysteria as they mature, or
at least learn to keep it in perspective.
The
rest read Twilight.
Stephanie
Meyers’ series indulges every single adolescent insecurity. I’m not saying that
it creates them. This book is not capable of sending a message. It can only
cater to feelings that women already have: anxiety about sex, the need to feel
desired, jealousy towards women who are desired, etcc...it’s all here. That’s all pretty standard for the kind of
young adult literature that sells a few copies and is forgotten after two
weeks. Twilight plays into more than
just conscious adolescent fantasies. It indulges more insidious feelings. For
example,
This series is repulsed by the female body.
Bella
is introduced as clumsy, pale and unattractive. Those are standard “Mary-Jane”
traits that supposedly make her more relatable. But when I say clumsy I mean she is afraid of cutting her fingers off
when she uses a kitchen knife.
It
isn’t until after she’s married and becomes a vampire that Bella is cured of
her clumsy ugliness. Of course, any woman who is attractive without being in a long term
relationship is demonized. Literally. The evil Volturi lure tourists into their
underground cavern using a sexy vampire in a short skirt: “She wasn’t just
the fisherman,” Bella writes, “She was the bait.” Keep in mind, these tourists aren’t mere
frat boys on a Europe trip. They are couples, families, and even an elderly
woman clutching a rosary, with no qualms about following a scantily clad woman
underground in a foreign country, believing her to be some kind of sexy “tour
guide”. These ridiculous scenarios are not Meyer’s attempt to send a message.
They are simply echoes of the worst feelings that vulnerable women already
have: Only a man can redeem your feeble body. People will do anything an attractive
woman tells them to do. Attractive women are evil. Or rather, attractive, unattached women are evil.
Even clumsy, pale Bella becomes a looker when she marries Edward. Prior to that Edward’s affection alone is enough to make her an object of envy. So says Rosalie, in Chapter 7 of Eclipse: “You see, at first, I was mostly jealous because he wanted you and not me.... I don't want Edward that way, Bella. I never did--I love him as a brother, but he's irritated me from the first moment I heard him speak. You have to understand, though...I was so used to people wanting me. And Edward wasn't the least bit interested. It frustrated me, even offended me in the beginning. But he never wanted anyone, so it didn't bother me long.”
The thing that sends Twilight over the top into Pulp Heaven is the combination of this wish fulfillment with the abject horror of being a teenage girl. The fantasy of a beautiful, sought-after man who won’t try to pressure you into intercourse is no doubt a popular one. Twilight pairs that fantasy with a healthy dollop of body horror: Edward refuses to make love to mortal Bella because he’s afraid his vampire strength will tear her to pieces.
Then he changes his mind. This is an EXACT QUOTE from page 617 of Eclipse. If you don’t believe me, please look it up:
“‘We're
doing this your way. Because my way doesn't work. I call you stubborn, but look
at what I've done. I've clung with such idiotic obstinacy to my idea of what's
best for you, though it's only hurt you. Hurt you so deeply, time and time
again.’” It almost looks like Edward Cullen is about to turn into a rational, relateable
character, but then he keeps talking: “‘We're doing it your way, Bella. Tonight.
Today. The sooner the better. I'll speak to Carlisle. I was thinking that maybe
if we gave you enough morphine, it wouldn't be so bad. It's worth a try.’ He
gritted his teeth.”
Morphine.
Sex in this world is so painful that it requires morphine. The obvious
solution, to anyone who isn’t living with medieval attitudes about gender, is
that Edward ought to be tied down. Chain him up. Surely there is some way to
restrain him so that Bella can mount his undead manhood without being torn to
pieces? This would be practical and entertaining,
but the thought never entered our author’s misogynistic little head, wherein the
man is always on top and anything else is unthinkable.
It’s
all par for the course, because I’m pretty sure Bella doesn’t even have a
vagina. When she goes into labour, “Bella vomited a fountain of blood.” Now I’m
no biologist, but I’m pretty sure that, when giving birth, the blood pours out
of a different orifice, the same one it comes out of every month to the supreme
embarrassment of young girls everywhere. Edward ends up chewing the baby out of
her uterus with his teeth. That’s right ladies and gents: cannibalism is sexier
than lady parts.
What
other warped adolescent fantasies does Twilight cater to?
Well,
to begin with, the popular kids are assholes....or rather, the kids that enjoy being popular are assholes. Let’s
not beat around the bush. Everyone wants friends. In real life, especially in
High School, popularity is a high priority. But of course, not everyone can be
popular. Some people are moody, unattractive, passive-aggressive types that no
one wants to be around.
Each
of those adjectives could be used to describe Bella Swan, yet when Bella arrives in Forks, every boy, and I mean every boy falls for her...except for
Edward Cullen, who avoids her for two straight months and even tries to switch
classes to get away from her. But in the end, that’s just because he loves her so much.
Every
high schooler dreams of being as undeservedly popular as Bella Swan. But that
is not the fantasy Meyer is playing into. Because for every person who is as
popular as Bella Swan, there are three who wish they were, and one who tells
herself that that popular girl is just a shallow slut. Do I need to tell you
which one Bella is, or should I just remind you of the sexy, scantily clad
woman who lured tourists to their deaths in New
Moon?
In
that same book, Bella goes to a movie with Jessica, who supposedly is a vapid
cheerleader but actually seems like she’d be way more fun to hang around
(Maybe because she’s played by Anna Kendrick). At this point, Bella
has spent months in bed, shutting out the world and harming herself because her
boyfriend broke up with her. I would rather hang out with Jessica any day of
the week, but the movie and the book makes it perfectly clear that Bella is way cooler than her. On her date with
Jessica, Bella, without a word, decides to take a ride with a complete stranger
on his motorbike. When she returns, she rolls her eyes at a frazzled Jessica
and gives her an empty apology.
We’re
supposed to laugh at vapid, annoying Jessica, because Bella is just so
much cooler than her. She’s so cool that
the moment she moves to Forks there are boys asking her to the dance and girls
like Jessica wanting to be her friend. She’s so cool that she doesn’t even want
people to think she’s cool:
“Mike's puppy
dog behavior and Eric's apparent rivalry with him were disconcerting. I wasn't
sure if I didn't prefer being ignored.”
I’m not sure if I don’t prefer proper grammar to a double negative. But I’m probably just too shallow to appreciate her pain.
Bella’s
disdain for the “popular” kids is the fantasy of every isolated egotist at your
local high school—They’re only popular
because they’re stupid. And you have no friends ‘cause your just so down to
earth, right?
There
is an even more disturbing corollary to this that girls with any memory of
middle school ought to recognize. In every elementary school, there is (or was,
when I was young) a girl who’s really just one of the guys. She plays sports. She
rough-houses. And if there’s a guy you have a crush on, you can bet he’s
friends with her.
In
grade seven, this girl starts getting bullied. Other girls call her a slut, or
some variation of that. It never happened to me. But it did happen to two close
friends of mine. This mentality underpins a lot of Bella’s haughty
self-satisfaction in the novels. It’s troubling enough that social butterfly
Jessica is too vapid to deserve Bella’s friendship. How about villainous
Victoria who recruits newborn vampires by seducing Riley? Or the aforementioned
“fisherman and bait” vampire in Italy? Indeed, evil-woman-who-uses-sex-to-get-what-she-wants
is something of a recurring motif in these books.
This
is a transcript from the third movie:
Edward Cullen: Stop
trying to take your clothes off.
Bella Swan: You
want to do that part?
Edward Cullen:
Not tonight.
Bella Swan: You...
You mean, you don't...That's fine.
Edward Cullen: Believe
me, I want to.
Edward Cullen: I
just want to be married to you first.
Bella Swan: You
really make me feel like I'm some sort of, like, villain trying to steal your
virtue or something.
Edward Cullen: It's
not my virtue I'm concerned about.
I know, it’s all very funny. But the
next scene is what really made my jaw drop: In a dark and rainy night, Victoria surveys the newborn vampires that boy
toy Riley has created for her. The contrast between these two scenes is so
striking it practically proclaims in all caps: POPULAR GIRLS ARE SLUTS.
“Now that’s harsh,” you might be
thinking, “After all, you said yourself,
Bella is extra super duper popular!”
But
she doesn’t want to be. She’s shy and clumsy and knows her proper place
(hint: it’s in the arms of a man). She deserves that popularity. The other
female characters, who go shopping and wear short skirts, are, at best,
annoying and, at worst, vicious soul sucking harpies who must be stopped.
Pulp fiction does not proclaim
anything. It indulges what’s already there. It’s been established by pretty
much every critic on the internet that this series is not well written. So what
does it take to enjoy it anyway?
Disgust with the female body
Discomfort with premarital sex
Disdain for people who are friendly
Disdain for attractive, unattached
women
Disgust with people who, in
reality, would be way more popular than you.
I hope we all
learned something today.
*It’s Great Expectations
**By “adorable” I
mean, “still an asshole but no longer a mouth-rapist”
