[This was originally posted on June 10, 2008 and updated just a few minutes ago. Warning, this is long and really not that interesting. Go read Brian Doyle instead.]
I finished reading Twilight by Stephanie Meyer last night. Why Twilight? U2’s PopMart tour in 1997 included an outrageous stage set including a huge mirror-ball lemon. When asked “Why a lemon?” by reporters, The Edge replied, "Why not a lemon?" Why Twilight? Why not Twilight?
One of the reasons I read Twilight is to see why it is so compelling for so many people—particularly women kind of people. There is a strange energy about it. Some have talked about it in such addictive terms, like Diet Coke or European chocolate. Others, wanting to raise themselves above the common folk, look down their noses at it. Better to read Jane Austin or Emily Bronte.
Am I comparing Meyer to these seasoned standards of literature? No, not comparing or contrasting, I will leave that discussion for the academics. And such discussion rages on. There are Web sites and blogs galore that defend and critique, praise and put down the morality, the academic validity, and so forth. And then you add the Mormon spin to the whole business and it doesn’t take too many Googles on the Web to see that folks are pretty exercised about these tales.
But in the end, that’s what they are. They are tales. They are stories, and we all like to read or listen to a great story. And we need a good story to give our heads a rest from the reality of our own lives sometimes. I read Twilight to see what all the fuss is about. And now I get it. It is a compelling read, and in my view, a great story. Was it the Great American Novel? I wasn’t looking to read the Great American Novel. Did it take into consideration and treat well all the moral issues of the day? I don’t know.
Should we who are trying to be perfect by the weekend spend our time here, or much rather in the scriptures or an LDS historical novel where we at least get credit for studying Church History? I think it is possible to read Stephanie Meyer and still obtain the highest degree of the highest glory.
And actually I don’t wish to spend any more time analyzing it. There are thousands of sites doing just that. I would rather read than write about reading, so I shall quit writing and get started on New Moon, which I have already heard isn’t as good as the others, so I will start liking it from the first page.
[Updated 7-8-10]
I did get started, read New Moon, which in fact wasn’t as good as the rest, and did read the rest, which I did like. And now the movies are out. Eclipse is in the theaters now and the early reviews are in. Something about Jacob’s Abs and so it goes. I liked the first movie, and didn’t see the second. I’ll probably rent it and then see Eclipse on the big screen. The music is always better there.
The other day as I finished Harry Potter Seven, I made some pithy remark on Facebook about being able to argue about the literary merits of the Twilight Saga. Someone said, “Okay, do it.”
Hmm. Note to self: Don’t make pithy remarks on Facebook late at night. Some people might actually be reading that stuff.
Does the Twilight Saga have literary merit? I would repeat some of what I wrote above whenever it was I finished Twilight. I would say the discussion comes down to compared to what? Compared to the literary canon adorning good English professors’ bookshelves? Naw. But it never set itself up to be a contributor to the literary canon. Stephanie would be the first to make that point as she spent her school days reading that stuff.
The purists might argue that being a novel is the first sin Twilight commits. So it is a matter of degree. If you could have read the Twilight saga on your own without people telling you it’s good or bad or evil or magic or too this or that, you may have just thought, okay, not that good, or interesting conflict, and tossed it on the pile of books on your night stand and start in on the next one.
When the media gets a hold of a story and blows it up on the big screen and the reviews pour in, we immediately want to take a side. There is a part of us that resents the popular. It took me years to see Star Wars because everyone told me how great it was and I didn’t want them forming my opinion before I got the chance to.
By the time I got to Twilight, I had seen and heard the volley of opinions and as a writer was intrigued to find out what all the fuss was about. So, while I tried to have an independent opinion, I was still listening to the arguments in my head, and as much as I tried to just read it and enjoy the ride, I was studying it—reading and analyzing at the same time.
I continually asked myself what the elements were that was making Twilight so intriguing out of all the novels that wander into bookstores every day. And I’m not sure I know. Perhaps I got tired of thinking about it and moved on to the next book.
As I said, I did like the story. I used to watch Dark Shadows with Barnabas Collins on weekday afternoons. Maybe I have a thing for vampires. I liked the plot. How does a family of vampires get along with society? Sure the language lagged and glistening Edward didn’t do much for me, but I really liked Alice. So cute and nice and yet so dangerous.
A waste of time to read them? Certainly not. To read them more than once? Well maybe. I challenge my business communication students--especially the husky males--to read Twilight. They look at me like I stepped off the wrong bus. Perhaps I have. Part of my reason is to get them to do something out of their ordinary, to start thinking outside their box and to connect with their culture, which at the moment includes Harry Potter and the Twilight saga.
