I do occasionally consider a change of career. Lately, I've been spending some time thinking about becoming a telephone psychic, since I can read a tarot deck, and since I learned that some of them charge $600 per hour. No, that's not a miss-print. There are people in the world who make $10 PER MINUTE to shuffle cards and talk on the telephone. I'm thinking maybe that could be me. Could even work out pretty well: I tend to come across pretty well on the phone, when people can't see me rolling my eyes, nor see the mocking expression on my face. This seems important, since those would be common occurrences when addressing people who accept and rely on advice from a deck of cards in the making of decisions. I think that career could be a real possibility.
Of course, I've always been candid about my intended fall-back career: writing B-movie scripts and trashy romance novels. This is the excuse that I offer for having recently picked up and read CB's copies of 'Twilight,' and the following works. Of course, I use 'works' in the loosest possible sense of the term.
My overwhelming response is to wonder at the success of that series of books. I have considered that the average high schooler can barely read, and that their emotional state renders most of them clinical sociopaths from the ages of 14 to 22 (assuming they outgrow it at all), but still. Endless drivel about how Bella simply looks at Edward, and has to take a second or two before she remembers how to breath? How she can't imagine life without him? Endless prattling about how gorgeous he is and how she really can't believe that he's into her? How of course she forgives him for everything he does, immediately, mostly because she doesn't think she deserves him at all? Really? REALLY? This is the sort of writing that earns the author millions?
I'm not sure why this should surprise me, but it kinda does. Maybe I'm a bit of a snob about my literary tastes( or maybe not), but these books are... awful, actually. I sincerely hope that Steph Meyer is one of those authors who thinks its hilarious that her readers are as devoted as they are.
I suspect that part of the issue is my admitted problems dealing with the teens-to-early-20s demographic as a whole. Hell, even as I was reading the books, it seemed a bit creepy to me that Edward, over 100 years old, was in love with a 17 year old girl. Okay, it was more than just a bit creepy, even (or perhaps, especially) when you consider that the author is Mormon and presumably open-minded about unions spanning generation gaps. I was a bachelor well into my 30s, and - living in Las Vegas - had pretty broad dating opportunities. It really didn't take long at all for me to adopt the firm guideline of a maximum allowable age gap of 6 years or so. Really, what were we going to talk about if I had finished law school before she finished high school?
Along those lines, what exactly is it that Edward and Bella connect over? Really, I'm curious. Reading both the language and between the lines, it seems he puts up with all of the drivel and bullshit that makes up her life as a 17-year old high school girl because she smells good. She puts up with all of his condescension, control-freak tendencies, and general douche-baggery (of which there is plenty), mostly because he's gorgeous. While I'm pretty sure that these sorts of arrangements underlie most if not all high-school relationships, I'm not sure that it's healthy for girls to be willing to commit themselves to such deals for all eternity.
So while all this strikes me as exactly the sort of thing that teenage readers would eat up with a spoon, it still depresses me that this is the sort of thing topping best-seller lists. And all in all, it really shouldn't surprise me that the Team Edward vs. Team Jacob debate really gained as much traction as it did. That's gotta be right up there with Survivor, American Idol, and Seinfeld in terms of contrived drama, with the added benefit of being expressed in small words, nearly all of which are known and/or can be sounded out by the target audience.
While real literary analysis is probably not warranted, I'm not going to be able to help myself from wading into the themes. Naturally, there is the almost-universal zero-to-hero angle you find everywhere from the Chronicles of Narnia to Harry Potter, but - interestingly - I think that's one of the more believable angles of the Twilight books. As someone who moved from a big city to a small town, I have no problem believing that a 5.5 to 6 in a big metropolitan pond suddenly rates an 8.5 to 9 in a small pond.
The close corollary 'I-can't-believe-something-this-good-is-happening-to-me' theme is there, in spades, and seems to be the driving force between the Bella/Edward thing as a whole. Seriously, if you took out the drama and dialogue (again, using terms loosely here) about how they REALLY DO love each other, and remove all exchanges where one is assuring they other they they really do want to be together, what all is left?
Answer: pretty much all that's left is another blatantly stereotypical meme: the internal and external conflicts over the wonderful-backup-boyfriend-she-doesn't-love. Oh, Jacob is so wonderful and always there and always saying the right thing and clearly, horrendously in love with Bella. As he is clearly the 'nice' one among her dateable prospects, he gets exploited mercilessly while she languishes over the gorgeous guy she loves. She doesn't WANT Jacob, she just NEEDS him for the actual emotional parts of a relationship, and to fill her pay-attention-to-me quota while Edward is off being dark and moody. This, of course, is all part of the love held for these books by young readers: pretty much every girl (or indeed, every PERSON) on earth will at some point have a hypothetically dateable prospect who loves them, who they don't love, but from whom they love attention. (Admit it, you've put some quality people in the 'friend zone' while you chased someone just like them, but not them. Doing so does not make you a bad person, it just makes you human.) So of course readers eat it up and keep buying books while Jake loves Bella and Bella loves the attention. And since he says he only wants her company, he's getting a positive quotient out of it, notwithstanding overt emotional leeching.
This, obviously, comports nicely with the teenage female world-view. While I haven't actually been able to finish the series quite yet (I can only take fairly small doses at a time before I start getting dry-heaves) I have no doubt whatsoever about how the Edward vs. Jacob thing is going to end. Spoiler alert: Edward is going to get the girl. But I also have no doubt that - part and parcel to final resolution - Jacob will either find his own true love, or die a monumentally heroic death; those are the only resolutions that a teenage female reader would accept. After all, Jacob has been a dutiful and attentive lap-wolf, and the only unforgivable transgression he ever made - other than being a genuinely nice guy - was that he's not as dreamy as Edward. Sadly, I think a heroic death is more likely, since Jacob finding his own true love would mean him finding someone he likes more than he likes Bella. That concept would be a tricky sell to the audience in a first-person narrative based primarily on the mood swings of the narrator. How to make Bella happy about not just losing the relationship that's actually based on personal interaction, but losing that relationship TO ANOTHER GIRL? Thus, I fear that while Jacob will go out well, he is not long for the world.
Reading these books has provided me with some interesting insights in the cravings of the book-buying public, which I confess I lose sight of occasionally. Clearly, any effort I might make to become any form of main-stream writer is going to require overcoming internal psychological barriers about what is and is not publishable quality, and about what I will and will not be willing to have my name attached to. If nothing else, these factors pretty much guarantee that I will be publishing under a pseudonym.
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