By Stephenie Meyer
To start this review off in a proper way, I shall quote Wikipedia, because I do not want to waste any valuable typing time on random factual information:
Twilight is a young-adult vampire-romance novel written by author Stephenie Meyer. It was originally published in 2005 in hardback. It is the first book of the Twilight series, and introduces seventeen-year-old Isabella “Bella” Swan who moves from Phoenix, Arizona, to Forks, Washington, and finds her life in danger when she falls in love with a vampire, Edward Cullen. The novel is followed by New Moon, Eclipse, and Breaking Dawn.
It is a romantic story about forbidden love, of pain, of what a person is willing to do to keep his of her loved ones safe. And it is horrible. Since I already tried once to write this review, with the aim of thoroughly analyzing the characters and themes contained in the book, and failed miserably (I managed to write almost a thousand words worth of relative rubbish), I will try again, this time only focusing on the two main characters and their relationship.
Bella Swan. Meyer attempts to portray her as an exceptional young person who feels isolated from the rest of the world, especially from her peers at school. This is made clear to us already in the first chapter:
Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain.
I would not mind at all if the author had simply done her best to demonstrate Bella’s uncommonness through her interaction with the people around her, but instead we get the message thrown in our face as if Meyer thought we were not smart enough to come to the conclusion ourselves. I would have understood if this idea had arrived as a result of a long train of thought set off by an observation on Bella’s part; this announcement of her being ‘different’, however, comes from nowhere. Absolutely nowhere.
Speaking of nowhere, that is where Bella’s brain must be. For a character that is supposedly intelligent and more emotionally mature than others her age, Bella’s head is surprisingly empty. She may have written an essay on whether or not Shakespeare’s treatment of his female characters is misogynistic (chapter 7), but that is where any thoughts she might have, apart from the ordinary teenage angst about feeling out of place, misunderstood and not the least attractive, end. Bella is treated like the modern female Faust, deep and thirsting for knowledge, when in reality she is little more than your average seventeen year old girl and should thus be treated like one.
In fact, now that I come to think of it, Bella seems to be even less than your average teenager. Bella’s thoughts seem to be solely occupied by how to interact with others and, later, how to get snuggly with Edward, while even a very bland seventeen year old probably has aspirations, activities he/she enjoys, passions, subjects that fascinate him/her. This particular specimen of a teenager does not seem to, though: we cannot define Bella through anything but her relationships with other characters, resulting in the protagonist becoming overly dependent on the supporting cast – something that must be avoided in a literary work, because it takes away from the characters, the novel, and the reading experience as a whole.
Edward Cullen. The perfect, ever so beautiful, dreamy, abusive, stalkerish, whiny bastard that everyone loves, and if you don’t, you deserve to die in a horrible accident involving bricks and baseball bats. And possibly a shiny Volvo driven by a crazy fan who will kill herself if Robert Pattinson (the actor who portrayed Edward Cullen in the motion picture) does not watch High School Musical 2 with her (fans like this really exist: read about it from here).
The problem with Edward is that Meyer has (perhaps unintentionally) made him into an overprotective and often times little bit abusive “young” man who should intimidate everyone in their right mind. And most of the people in the school are intimidated by him (but not Bella, of course). His century old mind trapped in a seventeen year old body is still affected by the age he died at – matured and intelligent as he may be, he still speaks in absolutes you would most often hear in a teen fantasy: “I’d rather die than live without you”, etc (I’m not sure it was Edward who said it, but I do remember similar statements coming out of his mouth, for instance: “You are my life now.”). I recently read a Twilight review that made clearer why he is so protective of Bella, emphasizing that Edward was raised and shaped by the society of the early 20th century where it was normal for men to be more protective of women than they are today. Taking into account that our subconscious willingly adheres to the convictions we develop in our youth, Edward’s conduct becomes more understandable. All the same, the way Edward’s character is presented leaves unclear whether this is what his overprotectiveness stems from.
Meyer does not do justice to Edward; he has a number of fascinating aspects that could be explored: the conflict between his mental and physical age, his century old convictions and deportment carried into the 21st century, the changes in one’s psychology that turning into a vampire brings about – the undersides of being undead. We are shown the physical and some of the psychological particularities of being a vampire, but, apart from expressing angst over thirsting for human blood and being separated from the rest of the vampires because of the belief that it is wrong, I see little actual psychological insight into the minds of the Cullens. That is sad, because I believe exploring the vampire psyche is one of the most exciting things the author of this series could have done. Had Meyer had a greater interest in fleshing out her supernatural beings with care and profoundness, I would not have disliked the book as much – I would have probably even enjoyed bits of it.
One thing that I do find completely stupid even by teenage standards is how Edward approaches Bella during the period when the two are only starting to talk to each other only to say that he is dangerous and she should keep away from him. Bella, being the obedient little girl that she is, agrees, even though she does does not understand Edward’s motives in pushing her away. YET, mind you, it is Edward himself who takes up conversation with Bella the next time the two meet, despite having stated that it would get them in trouble. The absurdness of these scenes had me burst out laughing.
Another thing I noticed is that Edward and Bella’s relationship is based on little else than immediate attraction and Stephenie Meyer’s conviction that they are “soul mates” and “meant to be”. If one looked past all the cuddles, the lust, the desperate vows never to leave each other, one would probably find they have nearly nothing in common. Similar interests? Common hobbies/passions? Shared views? I cannot recall reading a single dialogue between the two characters where they discussed for more than five lines in a row anything but their relationship and why one or the other was sullen that day. This makes the relationship, no matter how romantically doomed and special, feel forced and unreal. If the characters, especially Bella, had any depth, it would not work, because in that case they would be mature and smart enough to demand more out of this supposed love story than the occasional knee-weakening kiss.
Moreover, all Bella seems to be desired for is either her looks (she has a male fan base by the end of her first day at the high school in Forks) or her blood, and Edward is not the only that goes crazy for her smell. The only time something happens in the book is when another vampire picks up Bella’s scent, which he later describes as floral, and decides to hunt her down, because it would be fun (I cannot help but wish he had been able to suck her dry). So, all Bella is valued for is her appearance and the taste of her blood – sounds like objectification to me.
Overall I would not give this book any rating at all, because that would connote it deserves a rating. Still, it has its uses: Twilight has been a wonderful textbook case of what not to do with a novel. It is a good read for anyone in the mood for something completely idiotic but romantic at the same time: even though the quality of the prose, the nonexistent plot, pacing and character development leave much to be desired, it is fairly entertaining and the simple prose makes it easy to digest. Even if nothing else happens, romance does, and be it as corny and forced as it may, it is where the novel’s secret to filling the holes in many lonely hearts lies. Pity, though, that a thirty two year old woman should write a book dripping with the mentality that teenage hormones equal pure romantic love.
) towards the protagonist Rass. He was portrayed not as just another punk who has turned to crime because it is the easy way of making money, instead he is a likable intelligent young man who is trying to make ends meet and change the course of his life set by his late abusive mother. Alas, things do not always end up the way we wish they would, and Rass has the “privilege” to experience this truth firsthand. Some decisions he makes for himself, misjudging the situation and its possible outcomes, some things just happen, because the world lets them to. Some things are caused by other people who simply want to keep their lives rolling while preventing Rass’s from being anything near livable. He sets out with the best of intentions but chooses the wrong measures. This book has forced me into an ethical dilemma that I am still yet to solve, as I have always, without exceptions, despised the people connected with the business that Rass gets tangled up in. But I’m not going there at the moment, since my brain is quite the whiner today (or as Mona would say, I can’t think today, I have the dumb).