…I just feel like I lost half a million brain cells.
I mean, really. A friend who writes urban fantasy books featuring vampires and demons has been ranting against Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight books and how bad they are for a while. Due to that, the hype about the fourth book coming out and the fact that I’m apparently a disgusting masochist who likes to read bad books for the sole reason of being able to point her finger at it and laugh later (as well as feel incredibly good about her own writing, because it’s infinitesimally better than that) – I picked it up from my mom in law.
First off, let me say I spent a couple hours utterly wasted being entertained just by how bad it really was. I mean okay, I’d probably have liked the books back when I was twelve and all obsessed with Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Co. but now I admit that even Laurell K. Hamilton writes better (and more original) than what I’ve seen in Twilight.
Honestly, there’s nothing whatsoever original about the plot. Girl protagonist (who’s named Bella of all the cheesy names in the chick-lit-verse!) starts out in new High School and meets incredibly good-looking, cover-boy who keeps to himself with his ‘siblings’ who are all of utterly remarkable beauty (just a little less remarkable than oh-so-staggering male protagonist). Did I mention that those ‘kids’ live with this mysterious doctor in some secluded mansion that reminded me of a violent crossover of X-Men meet Giles, the librarian from Buffy?
Anyway. So there’s this absolutely beautiful, bedazzling guy with eyes that mysteriously change color in their enthralling intensity. Did I mention that the guy’s reeeeeeaaally pretty? I mean REALLY PRETTY? Just thought it’s important to remind you not to miss that particular attribute that utterly defines his personality because it’s not that Meyer points our his incredible stunning and absolutely breathtaking looks like on every page or so. Yes. Edward’s really pretty.
Oh and he’s sort of different too. Like he doesn’t eat any food and him and his brothers and sisters stay away from school without anyone saying anything when the ordinary students have their blood type determined in biology. Oh and they don’t like sunlight either. I wonder whyyyyyy. I mean, could it be that they are vampires? No, really?
Anyway. Boy meets girl or the other way around, whatever and of course deep, complex and utterly superficial love ensues. I mean really, isn’t bedazzlement on the girl’s side and ‘she smells like the yummiest food I’ve ever smelled’ on the guy’s side the PERFECT reason for an everlasting love affair.
Yeah okay, so the boyfriend is kinda scary and dangerous sometimes, but remember his angelic and godlike beauty! No wonder that girl protagonist is all accepting and nonchalant about the scary details paired with the very likely possibility of her getting her throat ripped out in case bf can’t control himself any longer. It makes perfect sense. Really.
Totally logical that she’s so blind with lovey-doveyness and cheesy prose that Bella runs right into eeeeevil villain’s arms, lured by a trap that’s so obviously just a bluff that it makes you throw the book across the room (not that you won’t have done that by then. On multiple occasions). Also it’s totally awesome how vampy-boyfriend saves the day and girly protagonist decides that she wants to be just like him to be together forever and ever. Hey, the thing about being a monster and stuff really is just a side-effect right? I mean after all boyfriend and his happy family of cute and sparkly vamps don’t kill any humans but drink animal blood. Can’t be so bad can it?
I mean what is that against being forever and ever with Edward of the sparkly-eyes?
Oh no! Now I used the ugly s-word! I’m sure I shall burn in Hell forevermore. Not even the godlike creature of the crooked grin and alabaster skin can save me now!
Alright, alright. I’m done. Can I go and be sick now about the fact that someone can sell millions of books without even a hint of originality? Sorry, but I utterly fail to comprehend the hype around those books. And yes, this is going to become one of those books that I’ll eventually pick up used and put it into my bookshelf next to Terry Goodkind and Mercedes Lackey and that I’ll open whenever I feel down about my writing 😉
Isn’t it weird how you’re compelling to read those bad books, knowing they’re bad books only to be able to point your finger and laugh later? Yeah, let’s hear it for alternative forms of personal satisfaction 🙂
I feel better now.