Saturday, January 16, 2010

An Impasse

I’ve thought some more about why Edward’s so attached to Bella, and the little Italy episode when Aro refers to Bella as Edward’s "singer" (“Because her blood sings for me,” Edward says later) reminded me of something else that I read not too long ago. In Sheridan LeFanu’s In a Glass Darkly, there’s a novella called Carmilla, about a female vampire who is so enraptured with the anticipation of draining her victim’s blood that she actually behaves as if she’s in love with that person. She spends every second with that person, never leaving her side. Of course, she’s faking the I-love-you because back when Carmilla was written (in 1872, the dim dark days of yore) portraying demons, monsters, witches, et cetera as having hearts and feelings was generally frowned upon. If you’ve read Dracula (1897), you may also recall the way Dracula hunted Mina and Lucy; he behaved a lot like an obsessive stalker. I haven’t come any closer to explaining Edward’s odd affinity, but I think both the parallels and the differences between the way vampires are portrayed in modern stories and old timey stories are interesting. So, a long time ago, vampirism was considered evil; now, it’s been romanticized and even has its own subculture, laced together with some gothic subcultures. How’d this happen?

Anyway, today’s subject is New Moon, the second installment in Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series.

We begin with Bella’s birthday party at the Cullens’. Accident prone as she is, she gets a papercut while opening one of her gifts, and that tiny drop of blood sends Jasper into a snarling, blood-hungry frenzy. Luckily, Edward is there to defend her, and as far as she’s concerned, all’s well that ends well. Edward, the smart one, disagrees. He leaves her, because he doesn’t want to endanger her anymore. Bella is devastated. She spends the first part of the novel sniveling about the Edward-shaped hole in her chest. Then, she starts hanging out with Jacob Black again, and it emerges that his little crushy on her is stronger than ever.

I like Edward in this novel much more than I did in the first. I like Bella a lot less. The most obvious difference between them is not that he’s a vamp and she’s not; it’s just that that immediate conflict sheds light on a larger difference. Their ongoing debate on whether or not Bella should become a vampire emphasizes the contrast in the way they love each other. Edward is selfless in his love; Bella is utterly selfish in hers. He wants her to be happy and safe, even if it’s not with him. She wants to be with him forever, regardless of the consequences for herself or anyone else. Even though she seems to be afraid of getting older than Edward’s physical age, it’s really a toss-up as to whether she wants to be a vampire so she can have eternal youth or so she can have eternal Edward. He emphasizes that he’ll love her even when he’s pushing her around in her wheelchair, and his request that she wait five years before asking him to change her gives credence to that claim. Edward wants Bella to experience some of human life before he takes it away from her forever. He wants her to enjoy the world the way vampires can’t; he wants her to see sunshiny places and eat exotic fruits and fall in love with whomever and have baby Bellas. (Anne Rice fans out there may draw a parallel here with Marius and Armand. Marius allowed him time to experience life before he changed him into a vampire.) When she’s a little older and wiser and has seen more of the world than Forks, she may change her mind about the whole vampire thing; she may change her mind about Edward. He’s 100-something years old, and he knows Bella is too young and brash to make this monumental decision based on teenage love. At the end of the novel, he agrees that he will change her on the condition that she marries him first. Now, of course, she says she’s too young. But he points out that marriage is a relatively simple commitment compared to giving up her human life to live forever as a vampire. And, of course, marriage isn’t quite so permanent, either. She doesn’t give him a straight answer, and her hesitation makes him afraid that she anticipates growing tired of him. Though her greatest wish is for Edward to change her, she can still have Carlisle do the deed if she refuses to marry Edward. This will drive a rift between her and Edward, and possibly between Edward and Carlisle as well. At any rate, it gives her more food for thought before she takes the plunge, and Edward wants to stall her as long as possible in the hopes that her decision, whatever it is, will be well-considered for her own good.

Bella, on the other hand, operates under the assumption that she knows what’s good for her, but she obviously doesn’t. She treads a path that constantly brings her and people she claims to care about in harm’s way. However, she has a chance to redeem herself. At the end of the novel, we’re told the particulars of the treaty, one of which being that the treaty is instantly null if any of the Cullen family bites a human. Not just on Quileute land, but at all, ever. And, seeing as how the werewolves despise vampires, they’d instantly seek to destroy them all. The danger is amplified just a smidge when we consider that Jacob already hates the Cullens—especially Edward—for personal reasons. Edward’s confident that he can eat the wolves before they can eat him, so Bella’s more concerned for Jacob’s safety than the Cullens’. Whether or not she’s really concerned and actually takes this new problem seriously is left in the air. She knows she can’t convince Jacob and company not to uphold that last tenet of the treaty, and she can’t convince the Volturi not to throttle her and the Cullens, either. If she decides not to become a vampire, she endangers fewer people, and the ones who will be endangered are in a better position to defend themselves. If she does become a vampire, she starts a werewolf vs. vampire gang war that could very well expand to include the humans who are completely unaware of all the crap going on in their midst. So, we’re still at an impasse.

Next I’m reading Thomas Pynchon’s Gravity’s Rainbow. I’ve only read one other piece of Pynchon’s writing: a short story called Entropy, in which he implies that human existence is dwindling into meaningless chaos. I liked it. Hopefully I’ll be able to wrap my head around Gravity's Rainbow, but I’ve heard it’s pretty difficult stuff.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Forks in the Road

I only got on the Twilight bandwagon about a week ago. Before then, the series held no interest for me whatsoever. In fact, I disdained Twilight fans just a little bit. The teenybopper factor of the series (which is quickly becoming Harry Potter for horny teenage girls) killed any desire I had to read it, as much as I like a good vampire story. I bought the first two installments of the Twilight series at Walgreen’s because they were only $7 a pop and I needed a rest from the heavy stuff for a while.

At first, I thought Twilight would be pure fluff, and I admit I was 60% correct. It’s mostly fluff, at this point. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth thinking about. There are a few aspects of the novel that struck me.

1. What is it about Bella that catches Edward’s interest? The curmudgeon in me immediately supplied that Edward’s interested in her because she’s Kristin Stewart, who is generally considered hot. I thought, “He’s a vampire, could be decades or even centuries old, and has seen many hot girls in his time. What’s different about Bella?” Edward and his entire vampire family are beautiful themselves. It could be that Bella’s more attractive to him because her beauty will only last her another 40 or so years before it fades away—and 40 years is half an eye-blink to someone like Edward.

Then another idea came from Greek and Roman mythology: Immortals are often fascinated by the human tendency to spit in the face of mortality. Bella faces death every time she is alone with Edward, yet she never shows any fear, except when he illustrates his ability to punish trees in the clearing. Even then, I’d say she’s more in awe of him than afraid. And she’s too blinded by his glittering complexion to register that he could tear her head off and eat it. It’s not until she becomes James’s target that she realizes that Edward has been right all along, and she has been in terrible danger from the moment she met him. But, rather than taking his advice and bailing the first chance she gets, she deliberately (erroneously, because it’s what James wanted from the start, to draw Edward into a deathmatch) surrenders herself to James, assuming it’ll satisfy him and stop his rampage.

Throughout the first half of the novel, I perceived that Edward is oddly intuitive when it comes to other people; he seems to be able to say just the right thing to get people to do what he wants. But he can’t manipulate Bella like that. He’s often puzzled or even taken aback by her words and actions. Then, come to find out, he’s not just intuitive, he’s a mind-reader; and the only person whose thoughts he can’t hear are Bella’s. Bella is uncharted territory for him. She never does what he expects, and he can’t eavesdrop on her inner monologue to find out why. There are no doors that his money, his looks, his intelligence, his strength, or his gift won’t open for him—and Bella’s mind is a closed and locked door. He wants to figure her out because she intrigues him.

But, if he were to figure her out, would it kill the mystery? Would he still be interested in her then? Has he considered that? Does he care? After all, as a vampire, it’s his nature to suck things dry. For me, Edward is a closed and locked door.

2. As the discussion questions in the back of the book indicate (and yes, I ALWAYS read the discussion questions), temptation is a running theme in the novel. The most obvious incarnation of this theme is, obviously, Edward’s temptation to drink Bella. As Edward explains to Bella, when vampires are hungry, they become like animals, with little self-control. Anyone who has read Anne Rice’s vampire novels may also infer that draining the victim’s blood is the vampire version of sex (albeit not as enjoyable for the drainee, in the Twilight universe). It’s nearly vampire canon. The fact that Bella is a beautiful young woman whom Edward believes he loves drives this point home. Just as the book’s original cover art—a black and white photo of two hands cradling a vibrant red apple—implies, Bella is Edward’s forbidden fruit. Bella draws the parallel herself at the beginning of the novel when she quips that Edward doesn’t know her from Eve.

However, Bella is also tempted. Once she discovers how one becomes a vampire, she realizes that, despite the horrible pain she’d suffer during the process, she’s willing to do it to be with Edward forever. Unlike Edward, she’s not good at resisting temptation. She makes it clear that she’d gladly give up her mother and father, all of her friends, the sun, and all possibilities for a normal existence for him. Even if she does love Edward, this is hard to fathom. Edward himself doesn’t seem to like being a vampire—he constantly refers to the difficulty of resisting the temptation to drink people and the violence he is capable of. It’s possible that Bella doesn’t equate vampires with monsters simply for the fact of Edward’s existence, even though other vamps like James, Victoria, and Laurent prove that Edward and his family are the exception, not the norm. Maybe her obsession with Edward runs so deeply that she isn’t afraid to become a monster in order to be with Edward—or maybe Edward just makes it all seem cool.

At the end, she’s in way too deep to just leave Edward alone. Bella needs Edward to stick around. She bound herself to Edward, so now she needs him to protect her from the dangers a vampire’s human girlfriend will undoubtedly face. But even if she leaves Edward, the danger won’t go away. Victoria is still on the loose, and doubtless she blames Bella for James’s death. Changing Bella into a vampire may be the only way Edward can ensure her safety—something of which he’s well aware. And even if he personally doesn’t do the deed, Bella implies that she may try to convince Alice to do it. Alice is the one who told her how it’s done, and Edward has said that Alice once saw Bella’s future as a vampire. But Edward doesn’t want his girlfriend to become what he is. As Edward says at the end of the novel, we’re at an impasse.

3. Then there is the town of Forks. Forks. That is what one of my old college professors would call a “symbolism 2x4”. Hitting your face. Forks. Not a fork in the road, but Forks in the road. Each fork representing the choices being made throughout the novel that branch off into other forks and change everyone’s future. Bella’s decision to come to Forks, then Edward’s decision to befriend Bella, Edward’s decision to protect Bella, to reveal himself to Bella. Bella’s decision to devote herself to Edward, her decision to give herself up to James, her decision not to heed Billy Black’s advice to “break up with her boyfriend.” And, of course, there’s Alice’s gift: her ability to see the future. But her foresight is contingent on the choices made by those it concerns—because each fork leads to another fork, as I said.

If you go to Ms. Meyers’ website, she mentions that she thought Forks was the perfect setting for her little yarn, but she says so in regard to the frequently rainy and sunless weather. But I think I might have guessed another reason for choosing a town with a name like Forks for her novel’s setting.

So, it turns out there really is some meat to this novel. There are few things I seriously dislike about it, one being Bella’s Mary Sue-ness. I mean, come on. New girl in town instantly becomes popular and attracts legions of male followers, including a sexy, loaded vampire who could easily have any girl he wants. Not only is she beautiful, but she’s intelligent, independent, and courageous. She’s a boy magnet and a danger magnet. She gets in trouble all the time, and Edward the vampire is always there to rescue her. She faints in his arms, for crying out loud. She has all of these traits, plus she’s actually different from other people in one crucial way (as Edward puts it, her thoughts are “on a different frequency”). Edward’s family (except Rosalie) immediately likes her, going so far as to endanger themselves for her sake. One could argue that they’re really doing it for Edward’s sake because they value his happiness, but still. Edward implies that his family won’t approve of his relationship with Bella, but if that’s true, they accept her too readily. I think Rosalie’s dislike of Bella may be just to suspend the readers’ disbelief.

That’s all I’ve got to say about Twilight for now. I’ll be reading New Moon next, and after that I’ll probably take a break from this series and read something else.