So I’m pissed off and I have no one to blame but myself. If I had any foresight at all, and I like to think that I do, I would’ve seen this coming. But I’ll back up to the beginning …
I was at Walmart two weeks ago. I was buying four new tires for my car, and as much as I hate Walmart their tires are quite inexpensive. Anyway, four new tires would take a while at any place, but at Walmart it takes forever. My estimated wait time was four hours. So, I thought, no big deal; I’ve been trying to make my way through this massive “books you should read” list and I was about to begin Frankenstein. I would read that. Well … I really disliked it. Thirty minutes in, I was banging my head against the wall in the waiting room imagining three and a half more hours of that.
A devastatingly simple solution eventually came to mind; I would go check out the Walmart book section. It can’t totally suck. Right? There’s got to be something there for a person that considers themself literate. Not. so. much. I don’t know why I didn’t realize this in advance, but their book selection is really piss-poor. Your choices are basically: romance novels, Clive Cussler novels, The Secret (yaaay), the sanitized Walmart top sellers list, and picture Bibles. As much as I love drawings of Noah and his magical mystery ark of fantasy, I was unimpressed and depressed. How the hell was I going to make it through 210 more minutes of this. How? I can only play the Guitar Hero demo for so long before the store employees begin to become suspicious of the guy rocking out with a circle of kids around him (happened twice already - yeah, I’m almost 30). How was I going to get through this?
Then, I saw a book out of the corner of my eye that made me turn my head. It was a book that I’ve heard of. To this point, nothing that I’d heard didn’t make me want to make fun of it. I couldn’t read that crap. I like literature written by important people rather than trash. As an aside, I’m kind of a douche. Anyway, back to the story … so, my sense of fairness kicked in, aided perhaps by my desperation, and I thought “I really shouldn’t make fun of this if I’ve never even read it - maybe I could read it today for three hours while I’m stuck here anyway and I’ll feel better about taking shots at it.”
This is how I came to purchase Twilight by Stephenie Meyer.
I understand if you never listen to anything that I ever say again.
I may join you.
So here’s the thing: I liked it. I’m as shocked as you are. This comes with provisos, of course. It’s no great literature; this is not a book that fourteen year olds will be forced into reading by an overzealous English teacher three hundred years from now. It just isn’t. But … it’s entertaining.
As I read through Twilight, I thought: “OK. Vampires are real. They’re really hot. They like to drive fast. I get it. I’m intrigued for some reason.” Then I realized that I had finished the book … in less than 24 hours. I had devoured it; doing little else aside from sleeping from the point I picked it up to when I put it back down.
So I had decisions to make. Should I read the next one? Twilight is the first of a four book ’saga’ - ick. Should I tell anyone that I read it? Let’s take the second one first. Upon finding out that I was reading it, my wife made fun of me non-stop for approximately a week. Let’s examine that. I was ridiculed by a woman that reads Dean Koontz books. Koontz actually writes with a crayon and his ‘novels’ are printed on construction paper. Was I really looking to admit publicly that I’d read it? Not hardly.
Would I read the next one? I decided that I was intrigued enough by the first one to justify reading the second one, as long as I didn’t tell anyone that I was doing it. Yes, I’m quite secure. Thanks. So I went to an actual bookstore (Barnes & Noble) to buy it and discovered that they only had it in hard cover. So I thought … is this worth nearly $20 to me? Ultimately, and I don’t get it either, I decided that it was.
So I read New Moon and enjoyed it for the most part. OK, so now there are werewolves. They’re huge. They bay at the moon, run temperatures of 108 all the time, yadda yadda yadda. Look, I’m not proud of it, but all of these things I can buy. For the most part I enjoyed New Moon. Not the best thing ever, but it did present a problem. Would I buy the third book?
So let’s review before I answer that question. Basically, I’ve spent several days and more money than I’d like reading semi-trashy watered down supernatural romance fiction written for teenage girls that either a) are stupid or b) cut themselves. I’m feeling really really fucking cool. Right, but back to the decision surrounding Eclipse.
So I bought it, and the final book Breaking Dawn, in hard cover no less. This has done wonders for my self-esteem. Eclipse continues the love triangle between the werewolf, the vampire, and the girl who can’t get out of her own way. It’s good. I hate to say it, but it is. Meyer draws overhanded, almost omnipresent, fucking constant even, comparisons to Wuthering Heights and … I can see it. Kind of. Love triangle. People that are bad for and to one another. Two of them are supernatural figments of your fucking imagination. Wait … what? So anyway, yeah. I moved onto the final book happy that I’d soon be done and back onto things that I wouldn’t mind admitting I’d read.
Breaking Dawn is the name of the final book rather than a German bondage flick. I mention this so that you know too. It opens as the wedding of the girl and the vampire approaches. Because you know, in post-9/11 America it’s so easy to get fake ids good enough to pull off an entire fake life like the Cullen [vampire] family does. Anyway.
Right now, I’m 200 pages in and I’m not sure that I’m going to finish. I’m fairly annoyed. Yes, I’m already 2000 pages or so (in less than two weeks - I’m so cool) into the Twilight Saga and I may put it down and never finish it. Why?
As I’m sure this essay shows to this point, I’ve treated this like ridiculous, fun, “summer” reading [if you will] that always teetered on but never really crossed the absurdity boundary. Obviously, I don’t believe in vampires and werewolves. But they’re common enough in legend and popular culture that I can accept their presence in a fantastical story with clearly-defined rules that aren’t too absurd. I am only human after all. If, for instance, the Cullen family could all turn into bats all of the sudden it would piss me off.
Which brings me to the thing I’m upset about. All of a sudden, like 150 or so pages into the fourth book of the ’saga’, Meyer tells us that Bella (dumbass girl) is pregnant with a fucking vampire succubus that is eating her alive from the inside. I’m so disgusted that I had to read that, let alone type it, let alone tell you all about it. Fucking a. This was not in the rules. This was never mentioned. It was never close to possible. What the fuck? I mean, I could buy it if they had sex the first time and it killed her because he had a massively strong vampire dick or something like that. Hell, I could even understand if having sex with him gave her some kind of vampire ovary junk disease or something where her fucking fingers fell off. But a demon baby eating it’s way out? What the shit?
So that’s why I’m pissed; both at Meyer and myself. And this is why I don’t think I’ll ever finish despite the time and money that I’ve put into it.
Who the fuck am I kidding? I’m off to read this crap right now. Disgusting idiot I am.





