- Good grammar and spelling. Well, most of the time, anyway. I'm not infallible, and the occasional typo may slip through.
- Snark. Sarcasm. Irony. Occasional wit. Probably also a few bad puns.
- References, both obvious and obscure. Can you find the first one?
- Opinions. Obviously, since it's called Re-View-eR, I intend to review things. Like books and movies. Perhaps the occasional play or live performance. I probably won't review music because, well, I don't claim to have good taste in music.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Oh, hey there. How are you?
Hi. You've stumbled upon my fledgling blog, among millions upon millions of others. Congratulations. Let me tell you what you can expect to find here in the future, which I hope will set it apart from all those other voices out there in the dark.
Twilight: Cotton candy or crack?
I started reading the "Twilight" books because I'd heard both how great and how bad they were — from different people, obviously. So, I cautiously grabbed the tailgate of the bandwagon, and, well, here goes. Caution: Spoilers ahead. (Oh, who am I kidding? I was the last person on the planet to read these books anyway)
I waited a really long time to read the "Harry Potter" books because they were so popular and because I have an automatic aversion to anything popular, and I really enjoyed them. This was different. Stephanie Meyer, I have read Anne Rice. You, madam, are no Anne Rice.
The first book, "Twilight," has very little substance. There would have been more action if it were about zombies rather than vampires. Meyer has clearly tried to adopt J.K. Rowling's style of putting all the action in the last 30 pages of the book. But what she missed was the part where Rowling developed the character and the plot in subtle ways. Many of the seemingly throwaway details in the Harry Potter books came back later and meant something more. And there was always a mystery to unravel in those books. In the "Twilight" books, what little mystery there is is so obvious that even if the reader didn't know (and it's hard not to, as ubiquitous as this series is), she would guess within the first five chapters.
Meyer tends to beat the reader over the head with every detail. Even keeping in mind that these books are intended for teenage girls, there are only so many times you can read "Edward is so beautiful" before yelling, "OK, we get it! Shut up already!"
And all I can say about the glittering is, "Really? Seriously?"
And speaking of audience awareness, the main character is a girl who can't do anything for herself, always needs a guy to come to her rescue, can't live without a boyfriend and does all the cooking. What kind of ridiculously irresponsible message is this sending to teenage girls? Jane Austen's characters look like strong, independent feminists* compared to Bella. It also sets an impossibly high standard for boys to meet. I mean, Edward is gorgeous (I think she might have mentioned that once or twice), brilliant, loving and gentlemanly. His only faults are overprotectiveness, jealousy, being a little controlling and that whole vampire thing. How is a normal guy supposed to live up to that?
I don't mind that Meyer tries to upend a few traditional vampire (and werewolf) traits. The venom idea was particularly interesting. But Rice's vampires were attractive in part because they were dangerous. In Meyer's world, becoming a vampire bestows a special attractiveness upon the person. Vampires have generally been sexual in nature, but by making the Cullens "vegetarians," she essentially castrates the myth. I don't know the author's politics, but I suspect there are some "abstinence-only" views behind this. Yet while Edward metaphorically abstains, Bella is the one who pushes for an actual sexual relationship. Is this Meyer's only concession to modern times? The only place a woman can get pushy is in the bedroom? Ugh.
And the glittering? Ridiculous to the point of hilarity.
And yet... The books are compelling. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's because they are written at such a young reading level and are therefore quick to read. Perhaps the story is interesting despite itself. Perhaps the characters aren't as one-dimensional as they seem to be written. Perhaps the pages of each book are laced with crack. I don't know. But I will say it. They are enjoyable. I am horribly shamed by that statement. It's worse than admitting to watching some horrible reality show or enjoying the comedy of Jeff Foxworthy.
I don't as a rule read romance novels, and essentially that's what these books are. Maybe it's some childish need to believe in soulmates and true love and being together forever that comes from watching too many Disney movies with princesses that makes Bella and Edward and Jacob's tale worth reading. Or maybe it's just like literary junk food. I know it's bad for me and I'll pay for it later, but it tastes good at the time.
But hey, at least I know it's bad. Look how many people out there obsess over it and think it's the best thing ever. That's the real tragedy in this craze.
I waited a really long time to read the "Harry Potter" books because they were so popular and because I have an automatic aversion to anything popular, and I really enjoyed them. This was different. Stephanie Meyer, I have read Anne Rice. You, madam, are no Anne Rice.
The first book, "Twilight," has very little substance. There would have been more action if it were about zombies rather than vampires. Meyer has clearly tried to adopt J.K. Rowling's style of putting all the action in the last 30 pages of the book. But what she missed was the part where Rowling developed the character and the plot in subtle ways. Many of the seemingly throwaway details in the Harry Potter books came back later and meant something more. And there was always a mystery to unravel in those books. In the "Twilight" books, what little mystery there is is so obvious that even if the reader didn't know (and it's hard not to, as ubiquitous as this series is), she would guess within the first five chapters.
Meyer tends to beat the reader over the head with every detail. Even keeping in mind that these books are intended for teenage girls, there are only so many times you can read "Edward is so beautiful" before yelling, "OK, we get it! Shut up already!"
And all I can say about the glittering is, "Really? Seriously?"
And speaking of audience awareness, the main character is a girl who can't do anything for herself, always needs a guy to come to her rescue, can't live without a boyfriend and does all the cooking. What kind of ridiculously irresponsible message is this sending to teenage girls? Jane Austen's characters look like strong, independent feminists* compared to Bella. It also sets an impossibly high standard for boys to meet. I mean, Edward is gorgeous (I think she might have mentioned that once or twice), brilliant, loving and gentlemanly. His only faults are overprotectiveness, jealousy, being a little controlling and that whole vampire thing. How is a normal guy supposed to live up to that?
I don't mind that Meyer tries to upend a few traditional vampire (and werewolf) traits. The venom idea was particularly interesting. But Rice's vampires were attractive in part because they were dangerous. In Meyer's world, becoming a vampire bestows a special attractiveness upon the person. Vampires have generally been sexual in nature, but by making the Cullens "vegetarians," she essentially castrates the myth. I don't know the author's politics, but I suspect there are some "abstinence-only" views behind this. Yet while Edward metaphorically abstains, Bella is the one who pushes for an actual sexual relationship. Is this Meyer's only concession to modern times? The only place a woman can get pushy is in the bedroom? Ugh.
And the glittering? Ridiculous to the point of hilarity.
And yet... The books are compelling. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's because they are written at such a young reading level and are therefore quick to read. Perhaps the story is interesting despite itself. Perhaps the characters aren't as one-dimensional as they seem to be written. Perhaps the pages of each book are laced with crack. I don't know. But I will say it. They are enjoyable. I am horribly shamed by that statement. It's worse than admitting to watching some horrible reality show or enjoying the comedy of Jeff Foxworthy.
I don't as a rule read romance novels, and essentially that's what these books are. Maybe it's some childish need to believe in soulmates and true love and being together forever that comes from watching too many Disney movies with princesses that makes Bella and Edward and Jacob's tale worth reading. Or maybe it's just like literary junk food. I know it's bad for me and I'll pay for it later, but it tastes good at the time.
But hey, at least I know it's bad. Look how many people out there obsess over it and think it's the best thing ever. That's the real tragedy in this craze.
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