Sparkly

or
My Top Ten Reasons for Heartily Disliking Twilight

10. The story is dull.
Frankly, the plot, around which Stephenie Meyer weaves the drama that is Twilight, is just … boring. Apart from a lot of angst, heart throbbing, and smooching, for a long time nothing much happens. (Oh, and Edward saves Bella’s life a few times, but those incidents have no further connection to the latter part of the story.) In the last few chapters the pace finally picks up, but even then the string of high-tension events seems disjointed. Evil characters appear out of nowhere (and later return to the same) and randomly threaten Bella’s life, presumably in order to showcase Edward’s great bravado in rescuing her at the last minute. There’s just not much more to the story, in the end, than: “Look, Edward and Bella are in love.” Pretty thin, if you ask me.

9. The writing is uninspired.
I’ve read worse, but this is mediocre at best. I’m not saying I could do better … it’s just not that good. Careful, step-by-step explanations and superfluous descriptions litter the pages, and meanwhile the words plod along, more or less devoid of color and poetry. Although the writing is for the most part correct, there seems to be little understanding of the power and beauty of language. Words are just the humble vehicle for the above mentioned not-very-interesting story.

8. The alleged abstinence message isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
A number of people have expressed admiration for the way in which Edward makes a particular point not to physically consummate his and Bella’s relationship until, in some later installment, they are eventually married. As far as it goes, this is great, and I know it’s becoming increasingly rare in our depraved culture. It’s just too bad when all our heroes and heroines need to do in order to win our enthusiastic applause is to refrain from committing some of the more shameful and glaring sins available.
It’s also worth noting that, once Edward and Bella reach the conclusion that their romantic interest in one another is irreversible, they spend a great deal of time kissing, stroking, and breathing on each other. In some respects, the absence of full consummation is a bit of a technicality.

7. Compared to vampires, ordinary humans are essentially losers.
I can’t think of a single mortal being subjected to description in this tale, who is not thus described without some degree of condescension, irritation, or contempt. Many of them seem like perfectly nice people, but as long as they share this world with Edward (and, later, his almost-equally-remarkable undead “family”), their existence can be seen as little better than pathetic.
The condescension extends to practically all the non-vampire students at Bella’s high school, to the occasional adult that stumbles into the narrative, and, even more unfortunately, to Bella’s parents. Everyone’s greatest flaw is that they just can’t compare with Edward’s mysterious majesty.
Granted, Bella has grown up in a broken home, and mostly under the supervision of a flighty, eccentric mother; so to some degree her distant, deceitful, and politely disrespectful behavior makes sense. My complaint isn’t so much that we are given a heroine with attitude problems, as that the teller of the tale condones her behavior. Not, perhaps, in so many words; but the resolution of the story’s conflict is that Bella begins to get what she wants (see: Edward), regardless of her methods in obtaining it/him. The end, quite obviously, justifies the means.

6. The story has dangerous implications for girls in real life.
This isn’t to say that everyone that reads about Bella is doomed to follow her example, any more than reading Mein Kampf will compel you to commit genocide. However, I still can’t help but find it concerning that a book so clearly targeted at vulnerable young girls and women champions such foolish behavior.
Observe: Bella sees a highly attractive, mysterious young man and swiftly develops a crush on him. He pays attention to her, treating her with alternating interest and loathing. They discover an inexplicable magnetism, and become the center of one another’s worlds. The fact that Edward thirsts ravenously after her blood is of very little concern to Bella. What could happen? Bella distances herself from her friends, mostly ignores her mom, and lies to her dad so she can be with Edward. They run off into the forest and spend the day together while her father is away fishing, and Edward spends a night (clothed) in Bella’s bed with her, diving for cover when the offending parent comes up to check on his daughter. Before the tale is concluded, Bella has lied to most, if not all, of the significant characters in the book, almost always in order to conceal Edward’s true identity. In the end she gets the guy, because he ‘loves’ her … apparently because she smells good and isn’t afraid of him.
This, ladies, is your heroine.

5. There’s something wrong with the whole vampire analogy.
Twilight disappointed me more than a lot of other regrettable books I’ve read, I think because I saw a lot of potential in certain elements of the story. Weird as it sounds, I find vampires rather intriguing, and I’m somewhat fascinated by the idea of the “monster that tries to be good.” Unfortunately, these things are pretty effectively drowned out by melodramatic teen romance, and are, I think, mishandled in what little screen time they get. I’ve been toying with ideas of how to improve on this concept, but I have no definite answer yet. I’ll keep you posted.

4. The story preys on female weaknesses.
Two in particular: 1) Our lust to be lusted after; and 2) our search for the “perfect” man.
With regards to the former – Twilight is written in the first person, as narrated by Bella, so we experience the story very much from her point of view. Bella is new at school, and within a few days has at least four or five different guys vying for her affections. Of course she scorns all of them but Edward. In this situation she finds herself to be the only girl to have captured his attention in a hundred years. Other girls drool when he walks by, but he has eyes only for Bella. He is unshakable, but she is his one weakness. How ideal is that?
With regards to the latter – essentially, Bella finds what doesn’t exist. Edward is not human, and shares almost none of our weaknesses (see point #3). No wonder guys hate Twilight. It makes promises that no real man can keep, and raises the bar higher than any mortal can jump. If you let Edward get to you, men will be frustrated and women will be disappointed; if you don’t let him get to you, you’ll just be annoyed.

3. Edward is a god.
He has tousled, auburn hair; fiery golden (sometimes black) eyes; perfect lips; a clear and musical voice; cold, pale (sometimes sparkling) skin; a crooked smile; long, white hands; a lean, muscular figure; impossibly graceful movement; unbelievable strength. He drives a brand new Volvo, wears designer clothing, and writes in a clear, elegant script. He plays piano like a pro, writes complicated music, is a brilliant student, owns more CD’s than a music store, and reads people’s minds. His kisses make Bella pass out, he hunts grizzly bears with his bare hands (teeth?), and he drives like a maniac but never gets caught or crushed. He is eloquent and mysterious, in control, superior in every way. In a paraphrase of Bella’s own words, there is nothing at which he is not ten times better than everyone else.
He is invincible.
While we’re on the subject of Edward, he’s also a complete sap. True, he bravely saves Bella’s life a number of times through the course of the book. But does he really risk his life to do so? Hearken to the words of Edward’s vampire-brother, Jasper: “You’re worrying about all the wrong things, Bella. Trust me on this – none of us are in jeopardy … Our family is strong. Our only fear is losing you.” (emphasis mine)
When Edward really does have something to lose, he reacts in a completely different manner. A few more excerpts to illustrate:
On page 84: “It would be more … prudent for you not to be my friend,” he explained. “But I’m tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella.”
On page 190: “Don’t you see, Bella? It’s one thing for me to make myself miserable, but a wholly other thing for you to be so involved. I don’t want to hear that you feel that way. It’s wrong. It’s not safe. I’m dangerous, Bella – please, grasp that.”
On page 197: “Do you want to ride with me today?” he asked … There was uncertainty in his voice. He was really giving me a choice – I was free to refuse, and part of him hoped for that. It was a vain hope. (Sure, make the girl decide. Coward!) (emphasis, again, mine)
On page 211: “Don’t you see? That’s what proves me right. I care the most, because if I can do it” – he shook his head, seeming to struggle with the thought – “if leaving is the right thing to do, then I’ll hurt myself to keep from hurting you, to keep you safe.”
But he doesn’t. He doesn’t care enough.

2. Love is seriously misrepresented.
This follows nicely from the previous point.
First, what is trumpeted as love turns out to be extremely selfish, foolish, and weak. As described in point #6, all kinds of bad things happen when Bella casts herself into her vampire’s dangerous arms, but nobody minds; and as we saw in point #3, Edward passes the most critical decisions off on his girlfriend, and prefers his “fascination” with Bella to actually making a real sacrifice in order to protect her.
Second, love is pictured as a surging of the heart, a flutter of the emotions, a mysterious chemistry that cannot be denied or escaped. Of course, this notion is extremely common in our society, but it is also extremely stupid. That’s not love. It’s lust. If I had time and space to describe what love is, if I understood its depth well enough to do an adequate job, rest assured, I would. Unfortunately, I lack all these resources, so let it suffice to say that love is a choice, an attitude, a way of living. Read your Bible; find out what love is. I’ll get you started: God is love.
Love is emphatically not an emotion or a chemical reaction. If you find yourself attracted to a gorgeous, dangerous guy who wants to drink your blood, you can help it. And you should.

1. The story is dishonest.
Lying under, over, and around all the above nine points, I think this is the one that bothers me the most. The story of Twilight isn’t true. I don’t mean that I disapprove of fiction and fantasy; I mean that stories should show us the truth, and this story lies about the way the world works. It lies about what is good and evil, what is right and wrong, what is really important in life. The story gives us a girl obsessed with a cool looking guy, a guy too weak to do the right thing, deceitful children, passive parents, envious peers, and adrenaline-laced episodes of romance and danger – all realities in a fallen world – but the horrible thing is that the story goes on to show us that this is the way things should be. This is right; this is good; meditate on these things. Cheer for these characters. Live for these feelings.
This is the serpent, speaking to Eve … “You will not surely die…”

my wandering mind

I keep finding these things I scribbled down and forgot about. This was in a little notebook I used to carry around with me sometimes. We were at an orchestra concert at Dordt sometime a year or two ago; obviously I paid more attention to the instrumentalists than the music that time.

He sat, leaned back, with his hair combed straight up, looking out through his dark rimmed classes like a bored celebrity. He had a shock of dark hair and a grey beard. He knew what he was doing, and it was easy.

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With raw passion and long, thick hair hanging in curly wisps about her face. . .long bare arms, she played like the breeze, with as much care as a brook and as much thought as a sparrow.

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With great care and diligent work she had learnt her art; she was precise, she was concentrated, and her foot tapped a little to the beat. An open, innocent, and almost foolish face was hers. You didn't really expect her to know anything, but she was good.

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At first you thought she was pretty, but then you realized she wasn't, really. Her face was plain, and bordered on being grumpy. But then she began to play, and we realized she had a soul. . .maybe more of a soul than we had.

...a soft, green voice, with roots in the deeps and leaves reaching for heaven. . .

The descriptions are plenty florid, and unfortunately have no point in existence. Interesting, though. People are so interesting, and they all have stories. If only I knew what they really were.

Sometime I should try asking them, instead of making something up from a distance. . .