The Twilight Saga


The Washington Post has a great article on intelligent, literary women loving the Twilight Saga and not being ashamed.

All across the country, there were women who managed to avoid Stephenie Meyer’s series about a star-crossed human/vampire teen couple. (Vampire Edward lusts for mortal Bella, but also for her blood; the books are less plot than endless yearning). They resisted the first three books — refused to read them, didn’t know they existed — and the lunacy that was “Breaking Dawn.”

“Twilight” came for the tweens, then for the moms of tweens, then for the co-workers who started wearing those ridiculous Team Jacob shirts, and the resisters said nothing, because they thought “Twilight” could not come for them. They were too literary. They didn’t do vampires. They were feminists.

One minute you’re a functioning member of society, the next you’re succumbing to the dark side, wondering how deep you’re willing to go — and what that longing says about you.

In “Twilight,” Edward Cullen waffled between wooing and eating new girl Bella Swan. He chose love. In “New Moon,” the darkest installment of the series, Edward becomes convinced that his girlfriend would be safer without him, so he dumps her in order to protect her and then vanishes. Bella, catatonic from the pain, finds solace in Jacob Black, the devoted friend who has just learned he is a werewolf, and their relationship grows deeper, and this description is utterly, utterly useless because none of it gets at what the “Twilight” series is actually about, which is being 17.

It’s a time capsule to the breathless period when the world could literally end depending on whether your lab partner touched your hand, when every conversation was so agonizing and so thrilling (and the border between the two emotions was so thin), and your heart was bigger and more delicate than it is now, and everything was just so much more.

It’s just a movie. It’s just a movie. It’s just a movie.

It’s just a movie — well, movie and books — but it’s a movie that’s come to represent such big things, from the future of girls to what women really want (they want men who will shut up and come to watch “New Moon,” and not ask how many points they’re getting for the evening).

Men feel perfectly comfortable slathering their chests in greasepaint and screaming like half-naked ninnies at football games, but women too often over-explain their passions, apologizing for being too girly or liking something too trashy.

The grown women of “Twilight” will no longer apologize. They will go to those midnight “New Moon” screenings.

But as for telling them how silly they’re being, how Edward is not real and neither is Jacob, how their brains are rotting and their sense of reality is being distorted and this obsession is crazy, just crazy? There’s really no need.

They already know.

Yes we already know and we love it! Hi, my name is Jaypat and I’m a Twilight fan. LOL! It’s so true though. Aside from the great looking vampires and werewolves, it brings you back to a time when you’re 17 and everything was so much more. Great article!

You must read the entire article here!

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Comment by LN on November 30, 2009 at 3:40pm
This article is great ! I refuse to be ashamed. Because loving Twilight just feels great ! And I think this analysis explains why. ;)
Comment by Madirah on November 30, 2009 at 4:45am
Thanx for sharing! :) I am never ashamed of being a Twi-hard!

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