Okay - good Lord, it's been A LONG time. So here I am. It's nearly Thanksgiving. I'm blogging again.
What gives?
Well, it's nearing the end of the (teaching) semester. I have a million papers to grade. Time to procrastinate - n'est-ce pas?
I have become an addict. No, it's not alcohol, pills or sex. It's not porn or jogging. It's not even Doritos - although those can be kinda tasty. No, I'm addicted to a fictional series. Yes, it is Twilight. (and New Moon, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn and the unpublished Midnight Sun.) Stop laughing. Yes, I know I'm 36 years old.
Let me explain. First off, I'm only one year older and have one child fewer than Stephenie Meyer - my new personal hero. I can relate to how she got started writing the series. (I have a novel of my own - unfinished, mind you - that had a similar conception. If you don't know Ms. Meyer's story of how Twilight came to be, link here. I may not be a teen aged girl, but I remember what it was like to be one, and I have a penchant for vampires too. I love a good story full of complex characterization and romance as much as the next gal. I love a story that won't let me go to sleep at night.
There's a forum that I've joined called Twilightmoms. Read its opening credo, and you know what my addiction is like. I too have mountains of laundry and undone work, ignored the cats' litter box and sloppy children, because my free time of late has been devoted to OME! (Oh my Edward!) I've philosophically joined Team Cullen, the La Push Cliff Diving Team, the Alice Fan club (who would bet against her?) and the Bella bandwagon.
Yes, I saw the film. Yes, I loved it. My husband did too, thank God, because if he hadn't, we wouldn't be speaking, I think. He's going to read the books now - now that he knows they're safe for his consumption. And he's a 38 year old physician.
We're grown ups. What gives? Twilight has Harry Potter qualities. It has the capacity to transcend young adult fiction and fantasy labeling. It incites a fervor that makes me proud to be literate. I'm excited by the way this Mormon mom has made abstinence cool. (If your sexy boyfriend is too afraid that he might eat you or crush you to death, it's hard to hook-up, after all.) I'm excited by Meyer's metaphors. In many ways, Twilight is an allegory for the difficulty that all young people have when faced with first love, the pain of loss, the natural attraction to danger, the concept of 'living forever' embodied quite literally in Edward Cullen. Bella too, is a smart and clumsy girl, unsure of herself, unaware of her own fragile beauty, unhappy in her family life, unsatisfied in her friendships. Bella is Everygirl. The reader can't help to breathe with her, blush with her, gulp with her, sigh with her, yearn with her, cry with her. When Bella's angel is a killer, her protector is a predator, and her lover is her future damnation, Bella's life shows us that there are always two sides to every shiny coin. There are no black and whites. Or perhaps there are black and whites, but they spin together so fast that they appear a permanent gray.
Enough philosophy: don't hate this series, whatever you do. Don't discount it as teen hoopla. Don't turn away from it. It's brilliant. It's magical. It's painful and heartrending. It will make you feel seventeen and one hundred and seven.
Alive and undead.
The film sequel is coming . . . meanwhile, I'll go reread the books . . . again.
