I was reading through a blog post today about the world of a fifteen-year-old as expressed metaphorically in young adult literature. There’s a brief mention of Twilight, towards the end, which is why I’m sharing this:
The creepiest baby in all of young adult literature, of course, is the one in Stephenie Meyer’s Breaking Dawn, the final installment of the Twilight vampire saga. Protagonist Bella is all about physical transformation. For her, death is a consummation devoutly to be wish’d, because it will entail eternal youth with forever-love Edward. But after the wedding she finally consented to in order to get some sparkly loving, she discovers an impossibly fast-growing pregnancy—a vampire spawn that kicks her still-human ribs apart, gives her internal bleeding, breaks her spine, and requires a gruesome Caesarian-by-teeth. (I am so looking forward to seeing how the movies handle that.)
The horrific pregnancy and birth, however, is followed by Bella’s own birth into her new life as a dazzling vampire, with self-control and abilities even other vampires find impressive. And, bonus, her child is also perfect: never cries, always loving, rapidly growing, and walking and talking by two months. The wages of sin might be death, but the wages of post-marital sex seem to be nightmarish pain, followed by eternal life blessed by a wonderful child.
Bella is often accused of passivity, but although there are certainly faults to be found with her fixation on romance to the exclusion of all other interests, she doesn’t actually lack forward momentum. She’s the sexual aggressor and instigator of change in her relationship, hurtling through milestones at breakneck speed—first love, first soul-crushing breakup, marriage, sex, childbirth, and motherhood in less than two years—before achieving her goal of eternity in a fairy-tale cottage with her loving family. Her transformation is agonizing and traumatic, but, aware of the risks and owning her choice, she pushes unrelentingly for it anyway. Although I do wonder if Bella’s really considered the ramifications of repeating high school over and over again, as her husband and new siblings-in-law do—after this ultimate transformation, she has perfection, but a static and essentially unchanging one.
The writer goes on to say that she prefers the sorts of books most of us seem to like, where the problems the characters faced were real in a way that they didn’t necessarily all end with “happily ever after” like twilight did. I can’t tell what Karen Healey (the author of the article) actually thinks of twilight in terms of her fan/anti-ness but it’s an interesting point none the less.
I think one of the biggest differences between twilight and some other YA lit I read is that I think the way Stephenie Meyer writes is an unintentional metaphor. When she has her characters do something, she thinks literally, but we read the undertones and don’t appreciate it. It is this that I think makes her seem so misogynistic, etc. to us. The fact that these crazy, unintentional themes are entwined with the reality of our world is confusing to us, especially at whatever age we’re at where we’re trying to figure out who we even are.
I agree with the author of the article in the sense that I personally prefer the more realistic versions of the stories. Life isn’t perfect now, and even if we get married and have kids, and live forever, it’s still not going to be perfect.
We realize that, and that’s why we’re more drawn to the more gritty, imperfect stories where people are flawed and where they triumph nonetheless because they’re normal like us. In Bella’s case, she was “special” to begin with, due to forces outside her control. She was saved by a beatiful stranger and her transformation into adulthood was either already there, or at least eased up a bit due to the fantasy she lived in. Her vampire transformation is the symbol of her transition into adulthood. It was easy for her, after the whole gruesome birth scene. Her rebirth showed her as the dream person, perfect and special in every way now that she’d grown up.
But we don’t want to be told that everything is perfect if you act like a stereotypical housewife. We want to be shown real, fantastically flawed, lovable in their own way characters!
Is that where Stephenie Meyer fails?
Haha, wow.
Tangent much? =P
Anyway, here’s the whole article if you want to read it. Please note: It mentions assorted other YA novels, and is more about the metaphorical hardships in YA novels than anything I just said.
So yeah.
Thoughts?