Of course I wasn’t completely oblivious to the Twilight mania, given that magazine covers tout the actors’ faces, and everything from t-shirts to tote bags have been sporting a repetitive Twilight theme. I brushed off the craze as another trendy lemming phase and ignored it until a friend lent Wolverine, Gary’s 10-year-old son, a copy of Twilight and I had to read it to pre-screen it for him.
The book starts off like something from the Sweet Valley High series, and I dozed through the banal obsessions of an insecure teenage girl, waiting for the story to pick up…which, unfortunately, it never does. Our main character, Bella, simply continues to grate one’s nerves to the very last page, a whiny, needy, clingy nothing of a person who needs saving so frequently she may as well hang with Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, or any assortment of helpless princesses.
The only saving grace of the book is the vampire family, though our main vampire Edward turns out to be so moody I had to wonder if vampires can be medicated. It was lost on me what a vampire over 100 years old could possibly find interesting in our trembling, griping, crybaby Bella, and I finally found myself skimming the large sections of empty text portraying Bella’s vapid thought processes, stalker-like obsessions with Edward, and woefully poorly-planned plots that only invariably led to someone else needing to rescue her…again.
I had just finished All God’s Children by Thomas Eidson before reading this, and the stark contrast in characters was almost comical. All God’s Children brings to life vivid, strong, and mesmerizing characters in a captivating story (I highly recommend this one), so different from the insipid, bland cardboard characters that plod their way through Twilight.
Sad thing is, I love vampire stories and devoured Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire, but Twilight never advanced beyond a silly teen drama for me. Maybe someone who rides the Twilight-loving wave can explain the infatuation to me.