Today I went into Waterstone’s and bought the third book of the Twilight series, Eclipse.
Okay, this is going to need context.
It has been established in the past, both on my Twitter feed and a now-infamous YouTube video that I am… critical of the Twilight series. It has become something of a hobbyhorse, in fact, and I’m sure a lot of people are sick of it, though I fear they will get no solace here. Its faults are well established: it is considered to be poorly written, the characters are unlikeable and it is painfully pretentious and slow moving. It uses vampirism as an allegory for sex, which is portrayed more in keeping with Mormon values than as a useful lesson for teenagers. Above all the central relationship that is set up and described as most perfect and idealised form of love imaginable comes across as portrayed as dysfunctional, abusive and manipulative to many, including myself.
And lest we forget, this is series made vampires sparkle; thereby surgically removing all the coolness points they had accrued since Spike first crashed into the Sunnydale sign.
I suppose my original criticism was part of the whole trend of “Twilight-baiting” that goes on around the Internet. Partly it was because it seemed so reminiscent of my beloved Buffy, and I was puzzled why the Twilight fans did not simply watch Buffy. It was after watching the first Twilight film that the basis for my criticism changed from simply lamenting the series for making vampires rubbish to truly despising it for the maladaptive life-lessons it seeks to impart.
Certain individuals- good friends, who I’ve known since school and whose opinion I value highly- have called me out on this by suggesting that they way that the Twilight fanbase is attacked so mercilessly is unfair, and a tad hypocritical. It is after all a series that brings a lot of joy to a lot of young (and not-so young) people at a difficult time of their lives and in a state of emotional unease. I will not pretend that this argument did not strike a nerve, since (as these individuals well know) my own clunky adolescence was spent largely at the mercy of ignorant fools who taunted me because I liked Star Trek, Pokémon, in one particularly bizarre instance, Zelda. Not because these works were flawed- though at least two of them certainly are- but because I was seen to be part of a marginalised group, social lepers who gathered together to enjoy their deviant entertainments whilst the master race discussed the relative merits of Newcastle and Sunderland’s football squadrons.
I do not want to be the person who picks on a social group simply because they are different. Nor do I seek to be and- Hojo willing- I never will be. So I wish to make it clear that my criticism of the Twilight series is centred solely on the works themselves, and to an extent the warped mind of its creator, Stephanie ”Insert Fic” Meyer. I offer no commentary on the Twilight fanbase. Some of them are, I think it is safe to say, unmitigated fruitcakes, but they are hardly the only fanbase with a lunatic fringe. Charles Manson believed that Paul McCartney was exhorting him to begin a race war, and some truly disturbed individuals perpetuated horrific crimes under the names Reno and Sephiroth.
But most Twilight fans are, I suspect, sane and well-adjusted individuals who happen to find escape in the love of Edward and Bella (or amusement in the awful writing), and know that their work is a fantasy, an idealised relationship they will (hopefully) never know. They don’t need defending from the big, bad internet bloggers, they are perfectly capable of ignoring us, countering us or calling us homos who will never know true love. More to the point, I don’t think that many of them are among the 64 people who at the time of writing subscribe to my Twitter feed. At any rate they are mature enough to distinguish literary criticism from personal attack. For those unfortunate few who genuinely believe Twilight presents a model for imitation, a critical perspective is even more important. They need to be made aware that real relationships, to quote Morbo, DO NOT WORK THAT WAY!
So I will continue to pay attention to Twilight, for the same reason I have Batman and Robin and Super Mario Bros and Fist of the North Star on DVD. For the same reason that the old serials of Doctor Who are worth watching. For the same reason I have seen Battlefield Earth no less than three times. Because they are entertaining. Because they are hilarious. Because they are so bad they’re good. Because to not make fun of them would constitute a missed opportunity.
But I will not open myself to accusations that I am criticising Twilight unfairly. If I am to continue making fun of it- and I dearly want to- I have to earn it. I must go into the desert of purple prose and underhanded sexism and hope to return a wiser and sadder man. I had hoped that watching both the Twilight films and reading the opening chapters of the books was sufficient, but apparently the God Hand require a greater sacrifice. That may well be my sanity- and Lords of Kobol protect us if I actually start to like the thing- but I shall pay it nonetheless.
I shall read Eclipse, the third book in the series, because I have seen the films and want to approach the story with no idea of where it is going. I shall meticulously record every specific instance where I fling the book at a wall. I hope to blog about it with my thoughts every few chapters, maybe every hundred words are so, as I go. And I have challenged my critics to do the same, for I am interested to see if we can accomplish a synthesis from the experience.
Any other soul brave or foolish enough to do the same is welcome to join me and provide their own commentary. The first chapter can be found on the she-devil Meyer’s website, but beyond that I cannot help you. Every man (and woman) must make this journey alone, though I hope we can meet along the way to provide solace where it is needed.
If it is Jenova’s will I shall see you on the other side, my friends.
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