Twilight: Misplaced Hatred

By Fiona Lochtefeld

By taking the pro-Twilight side of this debate, I am automatically setting myself up for ridicule. What used to be known as a “weird girly apple vampire book” is now suffering under the crushing weight of its own popularity. A lot of people adore the series. A lot more people hate it because they are tired of having it constantly shoved down their throats. I myself- and I admit this with only a modicum of shame- love the series.

Seriously. It’s one of my all-time favorites. But I’m not just saying that because I am obsessed with Robert Pattison or because I’m a screaming eleven-year-old with unrealistic expectations about what a good boyfriend is like. I started reading the series when it was still a weird girly apple vampire book—when vampires were only for Goths and emos. I have read other vampire books, including those by Bram Stoker, Anne Rice, and Ellen Schreiber. I have not been brainwashed; I am still capable of making rational judgments and pointing out flaws in the series. And while I’m glad that the series has done well, I think that its current popularity is absolutely appalling.

Because we are almost always surrounded by something with Robert Pattison’s face on it, it’s inevitable that the series has made enemies. Lots of enemies, who claim that Twilight has no literary merit whatsoever, because it is unrealistic or sexist, or just plain bad.

Is Twilight sexist? Perhaps. Bella admittedly depends on both Edward and Jacob to pull her through the current crisis. On the other hand, if she was completely independent, we probably wouldn’t like her much, either, because she would seem callous. If she always made the right choices, she would be obnoxious. And one might note that all of Bella’s escapades take place amidst creatures that are faster, stronger, and better trained in combat than she. Doesn’t it make sense for her to depend on others when she would be instantly killed if she did not?

As for unrealistic—it’s a vampire novel. Come on. The vampires may be scarily beautiful, but, seriously, how realistic can you expect a book about bloodsuckers and shape-shifters to be? Push the idea of realism from your mind already. Sit back and enjoy the ride that the book provides.

I don’t mean to say that Twilight is the Epic Of The Century. It is not, any more than Harry Potter is. Popular is not the same as profound. Engrossing is not the same as life-changing. And although Stephanie Meyer’s writing style is smooth, descriptive and engaging, it’s not anything special. She’s no Tolkien or Shakespeare. Then again, most authors today aren’t, regardless of how famous they are. J. K. Rowling’s writing style isn’t that special, either.

Many people are now saying that Harry Potter is a much better series than Twilight, both because it reached a larger demographic and because it came first. But if Twilight had come before Harry Potter; and it was Hogwarts, not Forks, from which we couldn’t escape, we’d probably hate Harry. We’d be claiming that Jacob would be eating Lupin for breakfast instead of vice-versa. And the only reason that we would be saying that would be because we would be so sick of Harry Potter that we would be unable to look at it impartially.

Ask yourself: do I really hate Twilight, or do I just hate the fangirls? If you had tried the series before they became hideously popular and had hated the book—well, what of it? You would have just tossed it aside and forgotten it. But you wouldn’t take the time to rail against it and anybody who likes it. You wouldn’t spend your time saying that it was a bad book. When we say “bad” in reference to books, we usually mean that we just didn’t like it. Similarly, when we say that it was good, we aren’t offering professional criticism on the writing style or plot devices. We’re just saying “good” because it’s understood that “good” really means “I liked it.” So unless you’re sure of your ability to criticize literature objectively, don’t say that it’s “bad.” Say that you hated it. Say that, by reading it, you wasted precious hours of your life and that you want a refund. But don’t use “bad” indiscriminately. Just accept that it wasn’t what you thought that it would be and move on. Let those of us who did like it like it without fear of being ostracized or mocked.

On the flip side, I would like to (nicely) ask all of the rabid fans to please, please shut up now. I’m begging you. You’ve had your day. You’ve come out of the closet and shown the world just how obsessed you are. Now, please get back into your closets, where you have left your well-loved copies and your book lights, and let the rest of the world go on its merry way. By shoving it in everybody’s faces, you are actually harming the series, not increasing its popularity. People who have never read it are turned against it without even giving it a chance. People who used to vaguely like it have been converted intoTwilight-haters. People who started reading it when it first emerged and cannot shake their obsessions have been forced into silence for fear of merciless ridicule. And everybody is being driven insane. You don’t have to go to such extremes for Twilight to be recognized as a great series that has attracted a lot of fans. If the world hasn’t gotten that by now, I don’t think it ever will.

If you like it, great. If you don’t, fine. But don’t hassle the other side. Don’t insist that yours is the only way. In fact, just avoid the topic altogether and avoid an altercation. Ignore the New Moon posters that glare at you from the theatre walls. Walk past the shelves of Twilight books at Barnes & Noble without making obnoxious gagging sounds. Don’t declare that the series is the epitome of All Things Good or scream every time you see a silver Volvo (no... not even if the license plate reads ED CULL). I’m not asking for reconciliation with the other side. I’m just asking that we reach a détente. This isfeasible. Harry Potter has proven that this can be done. So can we please try?