Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Read Stephenie Meyer
I was a reluctant Potterite, so I didn't realize how much I'd miss serialized YA fiction until I came to the end of Potter 7 (Meh). I enjoy losing myself in the mystical worlds of YA fiction, particularly if the mysticism is coupled with a healthy dose of present-day realism; I am a Neil Gaiman fan after all. After hearing lots of hullaballoo about Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series, I decided to take the plunge to see whether the novels were worth the hype.
To sum up, The Twilight novels revolve around Bella (Isabella) Swan, a 17-year-old girl from Phoenix, Arizona. After relocating to remote Forks, Washington, Bella meets and becomes involved with Edward Cullen, a teenage (and dreamy) vampire. Bella also befriends Jacob Black, a 16-year old First Nations boy who hips Bella to the legend surrounding "the cold ones", and how the vampires and the people of his nation observe an uneasy truce. In New Moon, the second book in the series, Jacob discovers that he is a werewolf, and also falls in love with Bella following Edward's desertion. Eclipse, the third book in the series, finds Edward and Jacob fighting for Bella's affections while defending her from the wrath of a vengeful vampire.
Got that?
I like a good trashy vampire story as much as the next person; I read all of Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles until I discovered that Rice had run out of new ideas and relied on her rabid fan base to propel her success instead of developing compelling narratives. Meyer had a different twist on vampire lore, and I was curious how her devout Mormonism would inform the novels.
I correctly anticipated the overwrought romanticism and anachronistic tropes that seem to be part and parcel of vampire stories; what I didn't expect was an allegory for abusive relationships and the Stockholm Syndrome. Bella's defining characteristics are that she can't seem to walk more than ten feet without hurting herself, and that she completely loses all sense of self when she's around Edward -- and does so with glee. Edward exerts control over Bella under the guise of wanting to protect her, but his brand of protection only serves to isolate Bella from other humans. When Edward deserts Bella in New Moon (once again hurting her to protect her), she becomes so bereft that she begins acting out and engaging in self-destructive behavior just so she can continue to hear Edward's voice in her head. Bella routinely compares Edward to a drug, and drama queens her way through the novels about how important(!) their love is. By book two Bella is resolved to become a vampire herself (because getting old while Edward never ages would be a real drag), despite knowing that her choice would hurt her mother, father, and her best friend Jacob.
Not that Edward's the only bad guy, mind you. In Eclipse, Jacob forces himself on Bella and kisses her against her will, leading Bella to take a swing at him and break her hand. This is significant because Jacob vouches that he would never hurt Bella like Edward does, that he would always leave her intact, as Bella always ends up injured when she's being "rescued" by Edward. Jacob explains it away by saying that technically, Bella hit him, but he's not without blame. Whereas the scars Edward leaves behind are mostly physical ones, Jacob wreaks emotional damage and routinely manipulates Bella's emotions to his advantage. Jacob knows Bella feels terrible about choosing Edward over him and takes every opportunity to play the "wounded pup" card, twisting the knife and further destabilizing an already unstable young woman. Where Edward is too careful, Jacob is too careless and encourages Bella's destructive behavior, but only to a point. He is determined to fight for Bella, to fight for her humanity, and to keep her in Forks down on the Rez, and turn her into a wolf girl who prepares massive spreads for the pack.
This series is disturbing, and it has nothing to do with werewolves and vampires.
Meyer's work raised every feminist hackle I have. Red flags weren't only raised, they were waving in stiff breezes and cracking like gunfire. Let me say that there is nothing inherently wrong with a young girl finding her very own boy and pledging her love to him. Despite my own personal feelings about the subject, monogamy works for some people and is alright by me. However, Bella's obsession -- there's no other way to describe it -- is unhealthy and sets a really scary precedent for young women who may find themselves involved with abusive boyfriends.
Bella exhibits every characteristic of abused women, and seems unable or unwilling to extricate herself from the situation. Vampires are dangerous to be sure, but Bella's relationship goes beyond the frisson of energy people can feel when they're doing something that they know they shouldn't; it borders on self-destruction. I keep hoping that the Feminist Mormon Housewives will get their hands on Meyer and talk some sense into her, or, at the very least, show her how her romanticized notions of belonging, love, and fidelity can skew a confused young girl's perception so that she thinks that Bella's choices are the right ones.
Getting back to the monogamy angle, I will say that it was refreshing to see a novelist bring up the notion of dating (not sleeping with) more than one boy at a time. As a child of divorce and a product of her modern environment, Bella has her own ideas about matrimony and maturity and challenges Edward's ideas about propriety, but eventually changes her ways when -- once again -- Edward's wishes win out over her own.
I couldn't with good conscience recommend these works to young girls -- or young boys, for that matter -- particularly if they were struggling with issues surrounding gender roles and expectations. Beyond that, the books aren't that well written; in her aim to keep the books current, much of the dialogue plods along like the unedited LiveJournal entries of so many teenaged girls. When it isn't falsely breezy and contemporary, they're overloaded with florid prose and ham-fisted declarations of undying (!) and eternal (!) love. Read the books if your curiosity gets the better of you, but do yourself a favor and check them out from the library. I'm feeling decidedly chagrined that the money I spent on the books is going to support an ideology that goes against almost everything I believe in.
Comments
There are just some really interesting fluid ideas about sex and sexuality in the novels that she explains away by saying that the lead male character is from a different era, an thus would have different ideas about modern sexual mores. It was an easy out, and it just felt dishonest to me.
FWIW, Philip Pullman's Dark Materials series is pretty good reading, with a young heroine the most flag-waving feminist can get behind.
[this is good]
I, having been coerced into reading the books by a well-wishing friend (I think), just finished Eclipse.
Whilst reading them I made two huge mistakes:
1. I carried the books and read them in various places around my high school, to which nearly every girl who passed me by stopped and asked, all of them in the same exact wording, "So do you, like, LOVE it?!"
and
2. I talked to the same girls mentioned above about how, like, totally sm3xy Edward is.
Peer pressure is indeed an ugly thing.
Though I may be a wee bit too young to truly identify myself with any pool of thought (right on the threshold of my fifteenth birthday), I have always identified with feminism. And as an adamant feminist (and I hope that this doesn't sound terribly silly coming from a young teenager) I was disturbed by how pathetic Bella was in the books. I kept waiting for her to grow a spine or... anything, but it just never happened.
Unfortunately, the only people I could converse with on a regular basis about Twilight were fourteen and female, full of silly girl hormones and teen-bopper lust after a fictitious hottie.
Regardless, this was a wonderful and completely reasonable, truthful review.
While I do understand the arguments that you all present, I disagree with the idea that the book is anti-feminist, and unsuitable for young girls (and boys, if they so desire to read it).
Twilight is a young adult fiction novel, and these books are written from the perspective of a young adult. The series is not meant to be setting up a relationship between a man and woman for these kids to aspire to have. If so, it would be about adults that kids would look up to. Instead, the book revolves around a girl at the same confusing point in her life as the readers. Bella is a character that girls can identify with, because not all young women believe that they hold power.
Neither can all young ladies can manage to uphold the ultimate feminism ideals at all times. I had two relationships, one that was very Bella and Edward, and the other similar to Bella and Jacob, and I consider myself a strong young woman, and a voucher for gender equality. Yet, I also saw myself in Bella when I read New Moon, and I remembered that experience. I remembered how much it pained me to deal with, and how much I loved those two (at the time) young men.
The truth is, when you love someone that deeply, no matter what their faults are (overbearing or childish), there is a great possibility that you can become powerless to fight against them. Then they can take advantage of you, or compromise your beliefs. It happens to the best of us. It is not because a girl is weak that she allows this to happen. It is because love blinds people and blurs lines.
Twilight is not an example that Stephenie set for young girls to follow. It is a written confirmation that these relationships do happen, and that they may be destructive at times but that doesn’t make them bad experiences. A girl may very well feel like she has no control when she is in love, and the book shows that this is not an uncommon situation. Forget the ideals that make up Edward, and the chaos that is Jacob. Teens may be infatuated with them, but it isn’t hard to remember that they are indeed fictional characters. What young women really connect with is the emotions behind the story (however alike to the writings in livejournal).
Stephenie Meyer has created a character who is not kick *** like a super woman. Not all women possess that quality. (And what human woman in real life could physically hold her ground against vampires and werewolves? It’s a realistic point of view.) Bella Swan is not an avid feminist, and she was written that way for a reason. She is an outrageously skinny, physically unimpressive, teenage girl who is just as insecure with herself as several are at the age of 17.
Yet, if you look, you will notice that the book is not lacking in strong women. Alice Cullen and Victoria are present in all three books. Both of them most definitely have equality (if not the upper hand) in their relationships.
Side note:
I also think it is admirable that Stephenie Meyer writes some of her characters to be old fashioned. It’s refreshing. It’s not saying that Edward doesn’t want to have sexual relations with Bella. It means he has an unusual amount of self-control. After all, he’s had 107 years to perfect it.
While the books are not supposed to represent what a good relationship is supposed to be like, it is, indeed, showing that these relationships, and the people in them, are perfectly fine, when they're not.
There is nothing wrong with feeling pain after breaking up with someone and it, by no means, is indicative of whether you're a weak or a strong female. It is wrong, though, to have no life outside of your boyfriend, resulting in you completely dying inside when they're not with you, anymore.
When you're, basically, a "doormat", you are being weak. You're letting other people control you and use you. It is not love. It is never love when someone manipulates and takes advantage of you when you're in a very sensitive state of mind. And if you're strong, you'd put a stop to this. You'll say, "No. I am not letting you take control of my life anymore. If you loved me, you wouldn't do this to me".
I have no opposition to realism in books, as do most fellow readers. The problem is this "realistic" behavior is seeing as being correct. Dark, scary subjects such as abusive boyfriends and suicide are romanticized in this series. You just stated how some of the relationships have been "destructive", yet it is not viewed this way in the books. Meyer gives a light to these subjects and hides what they truly represent.
Yes, it is hard to physically hold your ground against powerful, mythical creatures. Emphasis on the word "physical". How much physical strength you own doesn't have anything to do with your emotional strength. Nobody is asking for a super woman.
If you remember the scene where the Cullens and werewolves are fighting the newborns, Jasper is constantly getting in the way of Alice, preventing her from fighting her own battle.
Anyways, in response to this blog entry; I agree.
Thanks for your comment.
I've started reading the Twilight series to see what all the fuss is about. My nieces love them. I'm glad to see that I'm not the only one who has had the same impression and reservations about the book. I'm half way through new moon, reading about the scars on Emily's face caused by "the man who loves her" but "can't control himself." Of course he suffers deeply for the wounds he has inflicted... Come on... this is an abuse cliche: the victimized, but loyal woman, and the repentant but somehow blameless male abuser who can't fight his nature...she made me angry.
I agree that this isn't meant to be a model for tweens, but it is so emotionally seductive (and brooding). I don't suggest preventing kids from reading the books, but some discussion would be healthy. These are destructive and disturbing relationships.