Do I dazzle you?

‘Twilight’ Sucks… And Not In A Good Way

By Kellen Rice

Written by Phoenix native Stephenie Meyer, the popularity of the young-adult series comprised of Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, and the newly-released Breaking Dawn has reached critical mass. With a Twilight film adaptation coming to theaters this winter and an opening day’s sales of 1.3 million books for her latest installment, Meyer can be left with no doubt of her success. From a first-time novelist to a mainstay on the best sellers list, she has risen through the ranks like a veritable juggernaut.

But why? To figure out why the books were inspiring legions of fans and a dozen fan-sites (including the recently hacked Twilight Lexicon), I read the books myself to see what’s what.

To put it simply, dear reader, I was horrified. Not just by the sickeningly purple prose or the lack of general writing quality, but the books themselves are insulting on every level-as a woman, as a teenager, as a literature student, and as a graduate of the Harry Potter craze. What’s worse is that so few seem to realize it.

Twilight is the story of the so-called “average” new girl Bella Swan (Ha, ha, get it? Beautiful Swan?), who finds herself as the object of not one, not two, but a total of five boys’ romantic designs (because she’s so “plain”, see?). The most important of these is the mysterious, hilariously-Byronic Edward Cullen. Bella plays the pitiful damsel in distress a few times and after 200 pages of thinly written suspense, we learn that Edward is in fact a vampire. Never fear, though, because Bella’s “Adonis-like” admirer is no Nosferatu. Instead, he and his vampire family are so-called “vegetarian” vampires, feeding off of animals instead of humans and inexplicably attending high school (during lunch periods they buy trays of food and stare at each other so that Bella can conveniently get a glimpse of Edward from across the cafeteria). The first novel deals with Bella and Edward’s romance and is capped off by a hastily tacked-on plot designed to shove Bella into the damsel in distress role yet again so that her vampire lover can save her.

Okay, you’re saying. It’s a little cheesy. But why is that so bad?

First and foremost, the books present a female heroine who can hardly take a step without needing some boy to rescue her. In fact, the books represent sexist views in almost every way-from the fact that Bella gives up her ambitions and plans for college to get married to Edward, the fact that she is portrayed as a modern Eve, begging the noble, moral gentleman for sex while he desires to preserve their virtue, the fact that their relationship is dangerously unhealthy, and finally to the fact that nearly every single female character in the book is a hopelessly negative caricature.

The series does not improve with subsequent books, either. In New Moon, Bella enters a self-described “zombie” state when Edward leaves her. In fact, the author oh-so-cleverly inserts blank pages with the months’ names as a poorly conceived plot device for showing the depths of her heroine’s pain and also to avoid having to write the “hard stuff.” Bella turns near-suicidal; she purposely puts herself in harm’s way-going so far as to jump off a cliff-to hear her lover’s imagined voice in her head.

What does this say to readers, bearing in mind that the target audience is the tragically impressionable 12-17 year old girls? That they should fall apart at the seams for months if their boyfriend leaves them? That reckless self-endangerment is okay, so long as it’s to be close to your lover? What a lovely message to send to young women.

The sole bright spot of New Moon is the lovable Jacob Black, a member of the nearby La Push reservation and newly-turned werewolf. It is in Bella’s scenes with Jacob that readers see a glimpse of actual personality, and the burgeoning romance is certainly much more true to real-life teen romances than the lofty ideals of the star cross’d lovers Edward and Bella. But add another half-forgotten plot into the mix and Edward and Bella are reunited, with Jacob left by the wayside like a kicked puppy. Pun intended.

Eclipse. It is in this tome that Edward and Bella’s relationship takes a decidedly worse turn. Edward goes so far as to remove Bella’s engine from her car to prevent her from seeing her friend, Jacob, and even has his vampire ‘sister’ kidnap her from a weekend. Bella is a little peeved at this, sure, but she writes off Edward’s atrocious behavior with the terrifying “he’s just a little overprotective” and “he does it because he loves me”. Reader, I actually felt a little sick while reading this, despite these so-called good intentions (they’re always leading to hell, remember). Not only does Meyer give her two characters an obviously unhealthy-even abusive-relationship, but she romanticizes and idealizes it, and not only with Bella and Edward, but with Bella and Jacob as well.

Jacob, in fact, gets a bizarre personality transplant (lycanthropic dissociative identity disorder, maybe?) and turns into a real asshole in this book. He actually forcibly kisses Bella-twice-while ignoring her protests and actually threatens suicide should Bella refuse him. But not once does the thought of abuse, sexism, or inequality even occur to her main character! In fact, halfway through Jacob’s forced kiss (sexual assault, mind you) Bella actually decides that she’s in love with him. What is this??

I threw down my copy of Eclipse in disgust and I was ready to forget that the books existed until the Twilight-mania began anew in the lead-up to August 2^nd’s release of Breaking Dawn. I can write this article just having read the first three, I told myself. In the end, though, partly due to morbid curiosity and partly a result of wildly irrational hope that somehow Meyer would redeem herself, I gave in.

I was wrong. In Breaking Dawn, Meyer gives us an honestly bewildering and at times horrifying close to the series. The several hundred pages are filled with sickly-sweet self-indulgence and a blatant dismissal of continuity and realism. In brief, Bella and Edward get horizontal at long last (but only after they’re married, of course-we can’t have the naughty temptress taking away Edward’s 107 year-old virginity) and Bella somehow gets pregnant. Please, Meyer says, never mind the fact that all the vampires’ body fluids are replaced with their ‘venom’ or that sperm dies after three days, much less a century. Even more fantastically, the vampire/human spawn grows at an alarming rate, so fast in fact that Bella feels it “nudging” her at approximately two weeks of gestation. Now, I’ve never been pregnant but I did take health class back in high school and I’m pretty sure that there’s something wrong with that picture.

I’ll spare you the details of the rest of this horror show. Trust me, the birthing scene is something I desperately wish I could un-see (after the loosely-called ‘baby’ breaks Bella’s pelvis, spine, and ribs from the inside, Edward ends up clawing his way to a surely-unsanitary vampire version of a Caesarian section using his teeth). I’m sorry. I had to share my pain. Bella becomes a super-special vampire with super-special powers and she wins the not-conflict of the not-climax. And don’t forget her nifty ability to go hunting in a forest in a cocktail dress and heels.

Thankfully, the ‘Twilight’ series is over. Not as great is the fact that millions of girls are reading this sexist tripe without a care in the world, obsessing over the “perfect” Edward Cullen and the “hot” Jacob Black, pretending to be Bella Swan and ignoring the unhealthiness of the relationship just as successfully as the character does. What happened that two hundred years after feminist hero Elizabeth Bennet is put down on the page, we get one of the most awful excuses for a female literary hero that I’ve ever seen?

So frankly, excuse me if I bow out of the Twilight mania. I’m going to go sink my teeth into Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Woman and pretend that Stephenie Meyer’s terrible series did not set gender equality back two hundred years in the minds of millions.

This article is SOOOO TRUE!! Sorry, I never really did like Twilight series. I found it really as mentioned above.. perfect. There’s another article by her which is good =)

How to Write a Bestseller Just Like Twilight:

1. Abuse the thesaurus (correct word usage optional; purple prose is a must). If you want to ‘spice up’ your writing so that it sounds just like Meyer’s, a handy thesaurus is key. Then you too can write glorious and dazzling (and dazzlingly glorious) passages like the following:

He lay perfectly still in the grass, his shirt open over his sculpted, incandescent chest, his scintillating arms bare. His glistening, pale lavender lids were shut, though of course he didn’t sleep. A perfect statue, carved in some unknown stone, smooth like marble, glittering like crystal.

If you do not have at least three modifiers* for every noun, you’re doing it wrong. Some authors like George Orwell (1984, Animal Farm) have rules like “Never use a long word where a short one will do” and “If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out”, but since Stephenie Meyer is apparently the golden standard for writing young adult literature these days, it’s probably best to ignore Orwell and follow her example instead.

* Bonus points if you use the same modifier multiple times in close proximity of one another. Good examples of words to use this way include “chagrin”, “murmured”, and “chuckled”.

2. Do not research. It is not necessary to waste time getting biology facts, cultural lore, or cultural history correct. For example, if you choose to set your novel in a real-life place, don’t bother visiting it. If you incorporate the ideas of another culture, such as that of the Sioux Native Americans, absolutely do not speak to any Sioux elders or Sioux scholars-as the author, you have no responsibility to accurately portray anything. Instead, take what history you can find out on the Internet and feel free to bastardize their cultural lore so that it fits into your story. Also, if you decide to use science to explain some of your fantasy elements, don’t bother making it logically or factually sound.

3. Do not give your characters personalities. Instead, make sure that your female lead is as perfect as possible (but don’t forget to give her a contrived sense of humility). Obviously she must be pretty and smart, but don’t bother giving examples of her intelligence; all you have to do to tie up that loose end is mention bad interpretations of classic literature. To make sure that she isn’t TOO perfect, she needs a flaw. This is where it gets tricky; if you give her a true flaw, like hubris, she is less appealing. Therefore, use a “flaw” like clumsiness so that a) she is endearingly klutzy (allowing socially awkward young girls to put themselves in her shoes) and b) you have a great deus ex machina that allows your male lead* to swoop in and save the heroine from impaling** herself on a pencil after an attempt at a magic trick.

* It is sometimes helpful to give your female heroine an Electra complex, as this further romanticizes the idea of the male hero carrying her around, watching her as she sleeps, being 100+ years older than her, etc., etc.

** It is important to note that the heroine should not have to sacrifice anything besides her ambition. If you think she SHOULD sacrifice something, make sure that she’s only giving up her family and friends so that the she can devote her entire life and purpose of being to the hero. She should NOT have any kind of hobbies, interests, etc. outside of the hero, and if he leaves her she should become suicidal.

That brings me to the male lead. While it’s a given that he must be a perfect physical specimen, be careful not to give him any actual identifying characteristics because this will reduce your reader’s ability to superimpose the image of her own ‘perfect man’ over the hollow shell of your character. As for personal traits, it’s extremely effective to write him as a caricature of the Byronic hero. Your hero should be brooding, pseudo-dangerous, and have a deep, dark secret to cement his status as a sexy ‘bad boy’. Additionally, he must be extremely wealthy, drive fast cars, and enjoy watching the heroine sleep unawares.

4. Ensure that your heroine and hero’s relationship is abusive. An effective way to do this is to make sure that your male hero fulfills several of the requirements for relational abuse. A good definition of that is this one, from Wikipedia:

Abusive relationships are often characterized by jealousy, emotional withholding, lack of intimacy, infidelity, sexual coercion, verbal abuse, broken promises, physical violence, control games and power plays.

Personally, I recommend using jealousy, lack of intimacy, sexual coercion, broken promises, and controlling behavior because those are all quite easy to justify; all the hero must do is claim that he acts out of his desire to protect the heroine from danger because of his overwhelming love for her. Additionally, if there is another possible romantic interest for the heroine outside of the hero, isolating the heroine from him is a particularly effective method for the hero to use. One example might be siphoning the gasoline from the heroine’s moped to prevent her from leaving her house.

It is especially important to note that the heroine must not find fault in the hero for his abusive actions, as that would make him much less appealing. Instead, she should excuse his behavior by saying “he just loves me” and then continue to submit to his will.

If you’re worried that this might send a bad message to young, hormonal teenagers struggling through their own romantic relationships, don’t be. After all, as Heather says, “This is a BOOK a FICTIONOUS BOOK”, and no one has ever been influenced by a work of fiction in the history of the world, ever. Not even people back in the 1800s who read books like Uncle Tom’s Cabin. In the same way that people are not influenced by advertising or by peer pressure, reading novels does not have the least bit influence on anyone, least of all teenagers whose brains haven’t finished developing.

5. There should be no plot. Even though you may think that rising action, climax, falling action, and character development are important in a novel, they’re not. Instead, focus on the perfection of the male hero. If your editor forces you to write a plot, make sure it’s just another opportunity for the hero to save the heroine.

6. Profit!

Well, there you have it! I hope this helps those of you hoping to write your own ‘Twilight’. And to those of you who were concerned over my literary critique of the series, I promise to follow the steps above before I even think about publicly disliking something again in the future.