Showing posts with label Werewolves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Werewolves. Show all posts

Monday, April 4, 2011

Bella Unites the Werewolves and Vampires in Eclipse

“Some say the world will end in fire, / Some say in ice. / From what I've tasted of desire / I hold with those who favor fire. / But if it had to perish twice, / I think I know enough of hate / To say that for destruction ice / Is also great / And would suffice.”

This short Robert Frost poem, Fire and Ice, accompanies our first glimpse of Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart) and her chivalrous boyfriend, Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson), in Eclipse, the third movie in the Twilight saga. The poem appeared in the book as an epigraph; here, it seems to be part of a homework assignment. The contrast between fire and ice fits the story, as Bella finds herself sandwiched between virile Jacob (Taylor Lautner), a werewolf, and rigid Edward, a vampire.

Undead Edward is icy to the touch, while Jacob is so overheated that he spends all his time shirtless. The destructive edge of the poem fits Bella’s situation too, as we are left to contemplate which has caused her more distress: the apparent chilly indifference of Edward, her one true love, in the second installment, or the fiery passion of Jacob when she sees him as a valued friend who can never be anything more. It sets the tone well for the conflict-laden film to follow, making it an appropriate movie for me to watch during the first weekend of National Poetry Month.

In Eclipse, Edward is back, and Bella is content, though she recoils whenever he mentions marriage, even as she pushes for him to transform her into a vampire. Her protective father Charlie (Billy Burke), who provides most of the film’s funniest moments, doesn’t think much of Edward, since he witnessed the depths of despair to which Bella sank after her dream boy left her. He’d much rather see her pal around with her old chum Jacob.

Bella, who has decided that she will become a vampire immediately after graduation, wants to repair their friendship and spend some time with him before they are parted forever. That’s one nice thing about Bella here. She spends a lot of time thinking about how her disappearance will affect those who care about her, which makes her seem less self-absorbed. There’s also her role as a sort of intermediary between the Cullens and the werewolves. “I’m Switzerland,” she declares, and because of her, these natural enemies are able to work together and strengthen the truce between their two groups.

When I read the books, I liked Eclipse much better than the two that preceded it. In this case, I liked it about as much as the two previous movies, so I guess that means I preferred the movie versions of the first two but not the third. I did generally find it to be a pretty decent adaptation, though parts seem rushed, and some of the side characters show up so briefly that it almost seems silly to have them there.

Werewolves Leah and Seth Clearwater particularly suffer, as do Bella’s school friends. As prominent as her role is in the book, I was disappointed not to see more of Alice (Ashley Greene), Edward’s “sister” and my favorite character in the series. Still, she makes a big impression when she shows up. Jodele Ferland has a small but memorable role as Bree, a sweet young girl who becomes a vampire but never really participates in the violence for which she was transformed. She’s not on screen much and she barely speaks, but she has a great emotional impact, and the conclusion of her arc gives us important information about other characters. I also thought the backstories of Jasper and Rosalie, two of the Cullen siblings, were handled quite well.

Generally, I enjoyed the scenes involving Bella, which constituted most of the movie, and the three leads work well together. Of the three, I think Lautner’s performance was probably the strongest, but Pattinson and Stewart are fine. We also periodically cut to Seattle, where a young vampire named Riley (Xavier Samuel) is busy attempting to control a horde of newborn vampires wreaking havoc on the city. These scenes are disorienting and disturbing, and it takes most of the movie to figure out how it really fits in, at least if you haven’t read the books, which is the case with my parents.

Despite a general lack of blood, this movie is quite violent in its own way as the vampires find uniquely unpleasant ways of destroying each other. The grotesque nature of these moments is enough to encourage me to warn parents with young children to avoid it. On the other hand, there’s no profanity to speak of, and while there is some lip-locking that goes on, the physical intimacy never goes beyond that, and it’s refreshing to hear old-fashioned Edward talk about how important it is to him to remain chaste before marriage.

Two more installments remain in the series. I’m not so sure that Breaking Dawn really merits the two-movie treatment, especially since there are such long stretches of the time in which not much happens. Still, I’ll be very curious to see how it all comes together. If they’re as good as Eclipse, then I won’t mind spending three or four hours watching the Twilight saga come to a close.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Stephenie Meyer Brings the Twilight Saga to a Satisfying Conclusion with Breaking Dawn

Breaking Dawn, the fourth and final installment in Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series, hit shelves in the summer of 2008, just about a year after the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. It wasn’t a pop culture event of quite that magnitude, but it was probably the most anticipated book of the summer, at least among my friends. Curious, but not convinced that I would ever actually pick up the series myself, I read a few reviews of the finale and found the overall reception to be negative. I felt sorry for all of the ardent devotees who had invested themselves in the series only to be let down in the end.

Of course, different people are satisfied by different things; certainly there were many fans who didn’t love Deathly Hallows as much as I did. Still, I came away from my review-reading with several spoiled plot points and even less assurance that I wanted to start reading something with an ending that would be disappointing. But once I did pick up the series for myself, I knew that I would have to see it through to the end. I’m glad I didn’t let those comments sway me; while I enjoyed the first two books in the series well enough, I much preferred the final two volumes, and for me, Breaking Dawn was just about perfect.  (I tried to avoid too many spoilers here, but I do mention a couple of rather prominent plot points, so tread carefully...)
It begins as Bella Swan, a nondescript 18-year-old living in Forks, Washington with her father Charlie, is on the verge of getting married to Edward Cullen, the man of her dreams, who just happens to be a vampire. For the first few chapters, Bella puts forth one last burst of whininess, one of her defining characteristics. It’s rather tedious to slog through her “Ugh, my fiance just bought me a bulletproof car! Blech, I’m marrying the most perfect man on the face of the planet! Gack, my sweeter-than-honey future sister-in-law is giving me the most beautiful wedding imaginable!” I mean, boy, Bella, you have it tough. The funny thing is that in her human life, the better things are for her, the more she complains. Thankfully, she seems to get over this once she becomes a vampire; she does have a rather vicious response to one revelation involving Jacob, but once the shock wears off, she comes to understand it as a fortuitous circumstance.

Yes, she does make the transformation; was there any doubt? Meyer tried to introduce nuggets of it, mostly through her relationship with Jacob, who spends half his time as a wolf and most of his time hopelessly in love with Bella. Jacob narrates the second portion of this novel himself, which I suppose muddies the waters further, since it seems at one point that Bella might not survive beyond the first half of the book. But after all that buildup, I think many fans would have been up in arms if she had chosen a human life or died before Edward could change her. And seeing her in vampire form helps to demonstrate just how unusual some of her characteristics are and how she almost seems to have been destined for this very different life all along.

Aside from a brief chapter at the end of the third novel, Bella has served as the lone narrative voice, so getting Jacob’s perspective for a couple hundred pages is a welcome change. At first, his tone is so aggressive that it’s uncomfortable to read his ramblings; even the chapter titles are sarcastic rants, as opposed to Bella’s terse one- or two-word summaries. But Jacob, who oversees the most gruesome portion of the novel, undergoes a powerful change in this book as his fondness for Bella forces him into close quarters with Edward’s vampire family. Though he’d fought alongside some of them before, it’s not until this point that he is able to really appreciate them as individuals, developing genuine affection for gentle patriarch Carlisle, his tender-hearted wife Esme and their adopted daughter Alice, whose sprightly enthusiasm makes her my favorite character in the series. It’s fascinating to watch so many of his prejudices gradually dissipate, and though her solution is unconventional, I thought Meyer’s way of firmly resolving the werewolf-vampire feud was quite clever and satisfying.

There is more adult material in this book than the others. Though celibacy is something Edward insists upon throughout the first three volumes, once they wed, he consents to consummating the marriage while Bella is still human, owing to her assumption that once she becomes a vampire, she’ll be too thirsty to think about canoodling, at least for the first few years. We see the immediate aftermath of a couple of these encounters, but Meyer really doesn’t go into any detail, mostly leaving the readers to fill in the blanks if they so choose. Edward’s fears about hurting Bella are confirmed in the worst way when he impregnates her, a feat he thought impossible. This was the element that seemed to garner the most complaints. Bella suffers through a hideously painful, albeit rapidly accelerated, pregnancy and labor. It’s an incredibly violent process that involves the infant sapping away all of Bella’s nourishment and breaking her bones from the inside. But the thing is, now that she has all the reason in the world to whine, Bella, seized by a fierce, protective love for her unborn baby, suddenly learns forbearance. And when she takes it all in such stride, it’s hard to get too grossed out by what is happening to her.

The book takes several directions that surprised me, or that would have if I hadn’t read about certain twists beforehand. The child, who even old-fashioned Edward and Carlisle immediately want to abort for fear that the pregnancy will kill Bella, turns out very differently than I expected. Bella’s parents don’t simply disappear from the book after the wedding. Jacob matures, and the trials and complications of the first three books start to feel like stepping stones instead of roadblocks. One of the reasons I decided to read the series was that it had become a topic of discussion at a couple of my favorite Harry Potter websites, and I found myself particularly reading through the lens of John Granger’s comments on literary alchemy in Looking for God in Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Lectures. So many alchemical elements are present in this concluding volume, including a wedding, a death/rebirth and the merger of a “quarreling couple” - in this case the vampires and werewolves. From the beginning, the Twilight series has invited comparisons with Romeo and Juliet; happily, Meyer brings the feuding parties together without killing off most of the major characters.

At this point in the series, the main characters are well established, but some gain greater prominence, particularly Seth Clearwater, who only recently became a werewolf. Young Seth is an earnest lad of about 15, and he’s probably my favorite character in this novel next to Alice, though he isn’t as involved in the second half. He alone among his peers is able to instantly put aside the natural prejudice against vampires after their alliance with the Cullens in Eclipse. Sweet-natured and brave, he forms a lasting friendship with Edward, and his loyalty to his own people is tested when Sam, the werewolf leader, has reason to see the vampire family as a threat to be eliminated. His sister Leah, the lone female werewolf, also takes on a bigger role as she makes a clean break from the man who broke her heart and strives to find meaning in her life once again.

We’re reintroduced to the Volturi, an ancient group of vampires in Italy who serve a similar role to Harry Potter’s Ministry of Magic. Caius is hot-headed and eager to make trouble, while Aro comes across as mostly gentle and compassionate, though never quite safe. Their brother Marcus resurfaces with them but contributes so little that his presence is easy to forget. They dole out justice among immortal beings, and though the vampire world owes them much for maintaining order, these are not authorities to be trifled with. Meyer also introduces several other vampires who have associated with the Cullens in the past, and it’s interesting to see how they interact with one another. Lest all the new names become confusing, Meyer provides a list of who’s who in the back of the book.

In a series as in-depth and complex as Harry Potter, the conclusion Meyer offers might seem excessively simplistic, but for the series at hand, in which one is used to small misunderstandings blossoming into major crises and fairly one-dimensional characters falling madly in love with one another at first sight, I think it’s just right. Perhaps Meyer made things easier on herself by sidestepping a few opportunities for conflict, but as someone who’s always rooting for a happily-ever-after, I appreciated the approach she took here. At about 750 pages, this volume could still benefit from a little trimming, but I really didn’t mind the slow pace. By the time I turned the final page, I was rather sorry to say goodbye to her world but pleased to do so on an unexpectedly high note.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Stephenie Meyer Hits Her Stride With Eclipse

October seems like an ideal month to finish up Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series, which involves an ordinary girl caught up in the conflicting worlds of vampires and werewolves. If I can get to the library in the next couple of days, I might manage to be done with the series by Halloween. Though the final installment was not particularly well-received - I recall a particularly derisive review in Entertainment Weekly - I've got the itch to read it, since I just finished Eclipse, the third book in the series, and liked it about twice as much as either of the previous books.

Eclipse finds 18-year-old Bella Swann back to her relationship with Edward Cullen, a drop-dead gorgeous, unfailingly courteous vampire. In the previous book, he had abandoned her for about six months, intending to stay out of her life entirely for her own good, but perilous circumstances had brought them back together, resulting in Edward's promise never to leave her again. As she has gotten increasingly entangled in the vampires' world, Edward finally has agreed to turn her into a vampire, though he has deep misgivings, and he refuses to consider it before high school graduation.

Meanwhile, Bella's dad Charlie, who despises Edward for the pain he caused Bella in his absence, has his daughter under house arrest after finding out that she spent much of her Edwardless time zooming around on a motorcycle trying to get herself seriously injured. So her time with Edward is limited, and there's an additional wrinkle in the form of Jacob Black, an old family friend to whom Bella became especially close while Edward was out of town. As the book begins, Jacob, stung by her return to Edward after all that he did to her, is still refusing to speak to Bella, and she's still not too happy with him for ratting her out about the motorcycle. Moreover, Jacob is a werewolf, the natural enemy of the vampire, so Edward doesn't want her going near him for any kind of reconciliation. But soon, a sinister threat will force Edward and Jacob both to set aside their prejudices and jealousies for the greater good.

Reading Eclipse, I couldn't help but think that the first two books might have been better if they'd been consolidated into one, cutting out a lot of extraneous prose. New Moon's main purpose of developing Bella's friendship with Jacob probably could have been accomplished if Twilight had skipped a couple hundred pages of describing Edward's perfect features and if New Moon has skipped a couple hundred pages of Bella feeling sorry for herself. In any case, though, once I got to Eclipse, the first two volumes seemed mostly like set-up. Here, we really get to the meat of the story.

Bella is still a rather annoying character, whiny and sulky. She gets huffy with most of the other characters in this book, particularly Charlie and Alice, Edward's "sister" and her best friend, because of their attempts to "babysit" her, and Edward and Jacob, because of their disdain for each other. Now that she has Edward back, it's rather refreshing to see that her life doesn't completely revolve around him. She tries to make the most of her few remaining months with Angela, a sweet, intuitive girl at school, as she reasons that she will have to break off contact once she makes the transformation - though I would think that she could maybe manage an occasional e-mail... Additionally, once she and Jacob get over their aggravation with one another, Bella spends as much time with him as she can, even when it means defying Edward, because she knows how deeply she has hurt him and yearns to somehow make things right. Unfortunately, her show of fraternal affection only muddies the waters, leaving smitten Jacob more reason to hope.

Some of Jacob's actions in this novel are frustrating too, but understandable, since he is so desperately in love with Bella and so afraid of losing her, not just to Edward, but to vampirism. For how can they maintain any sort of friendship when she has transformed into his mortal enemy? Meyer gives us more background on each of the werewolves and, most interestingly, lets us sit in on a pow-wow where the elders of the Quileute tribe of which Jacob is a part recount the old legends explaining the origins of their werewolf forms. Meanwhile, we're also given insight into the backgrounds of a couple of the Cullens, with Jasper's history particularly important to understanding the string of deaths that has nearby Seattle terrorized.

Bubbly, affectionate Alice is still my favorite character, and hers is a nearly constant presence throughout the novel. While the obsessive quality of Bella's relationship with Edward gives it an occasionally unhealthy flavor, her friendship with innocent Alice is a breath of fresh air, despite Bella's tendency to be a wet blanket. Though he doesn't trust Edward, Charlie adores cheerful Alice, which is quite understandable; everyone who knows her seems to regard her with the same unabashed affection lavished upon Kaylee, the empathetic ship's mechanic in Firefly. Like Edward, she seems to appreciate the value of the human experience more than Bella does, and with no memories of her own human life, she never misses an opportunity to live vicariously through her.  Additionally, her unique ability to see into a constantly changing future makes her an indispensable resource as the Cullens strategize about their upcoming ambush.

This book feels much more balanced than the previous two, as Bella divides her time between Edward and Jacob, and there's a slow build toward the book's final conflict; we see it coming almost from the beginning, and Meyer heightens the tension over several hundred pages. What I especially like is the way this threat, from another group of vampires, forces the Cullens and the werewolves into an alliance, particularly Edward and Jacob. Additionally, while Carlisle, the Cullen patriarch, has a pretty small role in this book, his compassionate nature manifests itself powerfully on a couple of occasions. It's unfortunate that the happy event of these feuding factions uniting must be precipitated by the threat of violence; readers are treated to a fairly gruesome battle, though much of it occurs "off-screen".

One of the oddest elements of the book is Bella's revulsion when it comes to the subject of marriage. Her life revolves around Edward. He is like air to her, like water and food. There's really no way to exaggerate the heights of her devotion to him. And she wants nothing more than for him to end her human life by transforming her into a vampire, a permanent commitment if ever I heard one. Yet when Edward tells her that he will only transform her himself (as opposed to Carlisle, who has volunteered his services) if she agrees to marry him first, she recoils. She's completely willing to give up her human existence to spend the rest of eternity with Edward, but marriage? Man, that's just asking too much! She has her reasons, but in context, it's impossible for them not to sound pretty weak and silly.

The pacing of this book is much better, the conflict more compelling, whether it's the ever-present sense of danger from intruding vampires or the tug Bella feels between Edward, who she knows she can't live without, and Jacob, who dragged her out of the depths of despair during her darkest moments. Meyer aptly opens the book with the Robert Frost poem "Fire and Ice," and throughout the book, the metaphor is extended, with warm, furry Jacob fire and stone-cold Edward ice. Given the extent to which this series is all about Edward, I couldn't imagine that it could end any other way than with Bella and Edward together, presumably with her finally a vampire herself.

Whenever I read the passages in which she and Jacob were together, I couldn't help thinking of Ryan Kelly's angst-ridden rendition of Ride On, with part of Bella, a part she can't quite always submerge, aching to return Jacob's romantic devotion. The violence of the line "Run your claw along my gut one last time" seems particularly appropriate for this young man who is also a savage creature, as is the speaker's assertion, "I could never go with you, no matter how I wanted to." Yet Meyer manages to make the possibility of Bella choosing Jacob over Edward actually seem plausible.

My understanding is that when Eclipse came out, it was billed as a conclusion to the series, and if Meyer had left it at this, I can imagine fans being disappointed. The ending does have a ring of finality to it, but readers who waited for three books to see certain things occur have to count on their imaginations to fill in the blanks. However, since there is now a fourth installment, a true conclusion, I think this book's ending is just right, a reflection of a book that exceeded its predecessors considerably.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Edwardless Bella Turns Evel Knievel in Stephenie Meyer's New Moon

I’ve been hearing a lot about Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series over the past few years, so I figured it was about time for me to read the books and see what all the fuss was about. I recently finished New Moon, the second book in the series, and found it better than the first in some ways and worse in others.

Once again, the book is narrated by Bella Swan, a fairly ordinary 18-year-old living with her father, a police chief, in the gloomy town of Forks, Washington. As the book begins, life is good for Bella. She and her father get along well, and she’s in a stable, albeit strange, relationship with Edward Cullen, the man of her dreams. What’s more, she gets to hang out with his family, who she loves, particularly his effusive sister Alice and tender mother Esme. But Bella is not happy, since turning 18 means being older than Edward, who, as a vampire, is permanently stuck at the age of 17, when he was bitten. It’s a painful reminder to her that no matter how deeply she and Edward care for one another, their time together is limited by her mortality.

I expected that Bella would spend most of the book in a tug-of-war with Edward, trying to convince him to transform her into a vampire like him, an act that he unselfishly refuses to take because he believes that it would destroy her soul. To my surprise, however, Edward vanished after the first few chapters and remained absent for the majority of the book. I can’t imagine that this was a popular decision among readers who had so eagerly anticipated another 600 pages of the exquisite Edward. It was aggravating for me too, especially toward the beginning, when Bella is so bogged down in the enormity of her loss that it becomes painful to read. Then again, there’s the sweetness of anticipation, as you just know that Edward is going to show up again before the book is over.

Edward leaves Bella amid claims he no longer loves her, but after watching seasons of such behavior from Clark Kent on Smallville, it was pretty obvious to me that this was just a line he gave her in order to make their parting for her own protection more permanent. His departure follows a minor accident that demonstrates how dangerous Bella’s position is, even among vampires as benevolent as Edward and his “family”. I was disturbed to find myself siding with Bella, wishing Edward would just bite Bella already and end the complications.

But New Moon removes Bella from Edward long enough for her to form an attachment to someone else, building a relationship that feels much more authentic and healthy, a love forged in friendship without all the obsessive underpinnings. She eases the incessantly referenced hole in her heart by palling around with Jacob Black, who is a couple of years younger than her. Cheerful and easy to talk to, he helps her to come out of a four-month-long stupor – until he suddenly becomes distant. It turns out that Jacob has a secret too. He is a werewolf, and werewolves and vampires are natural enemies.

On the whole, I found Jacob a more interesting companion for Bella than Edward. They seem to be more on equal footing, as opposed to Edward’s obvious superiority, which Bella describes for us ad nauseam. In this book, the pain is so raw that Bella rarely allows herself to think about Edward, which means we’re spared a lot of tedious praise of his various perfections. However, she spends far too much time complaining about the gaping hole Edward left in her chest. The book invites comparisons with Romeo and Juliet, particularly since Bella draws such comparisons herself. As someone who never found that story romantic, I can’t say that was encouraging, though I did appreciate Bella’s sudden empathy for Paris as she assigned that part in the tale to Jacob.

I always thought that Romeo and Juliet were a couple of stupid teenagers who were all too willing to destroy their lives and tear their families apart for the sake of a powerful infatuation. Though Bella and Edward are generally more considerate of how their actions affect others, each finds the thought of living while the other is dead unendurable. There’s a religious fervor to their devotion; Bella decides that she can survive Edward’s abandonment, just as long as she knows that somewhere out there, he exists. He later confesses to similar feelings, and when he is led to believe that Bella has committed suicide, he immediately tries to follow suit.

Bella, at least, does not attempt suicide in this book, but she does indulge in several horribly dangerous stunts, partly out of a spiteful desire to break her promise to Edward not to do anything reckless and partly because, when the adrenaline really starts pumping, she starts hearing his voice in her head, as clearly as if he was standing next to her. This destructive behavior is one of the most problematic elements of the book, and a reflection of the dangerously obsessive nature of this particular romance. The sequence in which Edward finally comes back into the picture is the most vivid in the series thus far, all set into motion by a stupid misunderstanding that makes the comparison to Romeo and Juliet even more appropriate. It concludes with a scene that, despite leaving almost everything to the imagination, has given me several nightmares, making me question whether I want to continue with the series.

I probably will, though, if only out of interest in some of the supporting characters, especially Alice, who I have found to be the most intriguing and likable character in the series. This book drops more hints about her back story that I’m hoping are explored more deeply in Eclipse and Breaking Dawn. I’m also curious as to whether Bella’s father Charlie will eventually be let in on the secret. I like the fact that New Moon allowed readers to focus a little bit more on other characters instead of all Edward, all the time, and Meyers’ more overt broaching of religious subjects encourages some deep discussion. But the book never really offers a clear condemnation of Bella’s reckless behavior, so parents should definitely be on the lookout for that. Neither Edward nor Bella wants the other hurt, but they ought to treat themselves with the same sort of care.

Edward Cullen Sets Hearts Aflutter in Twilight

I first heard of Twilight two or three years ago when a couple of my friends began gushing about how much they loved the series. Gradually, I noticed that more and more of my friends had read it, and with the release of the movie last year, anything connected with Twilight flew off the shelves of the kiosk where I was working. I heard comparisons to Harry Potter and followed along with discussions about its literary and spiritual merits. Finally, I decided that I needed to check it out for myself.

Twilight is the first book in the series. It’s narrated by Bella Swan, the nondescript daughter of divorced parents who has just left her emotionally immature mother in Arizona for her preoccupied father in dreary Forks, Washington. Bella is a bit of an oddball who doesn’t mingle naturally with others. She manages to make a few friends at her new school but is fairly bored by their interactions. The only thing that makes her new life bearable is her fascination with one particular group of students, a cluster of gorgeous, aloof siblings, one of whom sits next to her in science class. His name is Edward, and it doesn’t take long for him to turn into an all-encompassing obsession.

Bella has a few distinct traits. She’s described as having brown hair and pale features. She’s absurdly klutzy, constantly inflicting injury on herself. On the other hand, she’s industrious, a good student and a capable housekeeper who cheerfully takes care of all the household tasks, especially cooking. She’s also kind-hearted, despite being rather wrapped up in herself. On the whole, however, she’s not an especially well-defined character, and I get the impression that author Stephenie Meyer mostly intended for her readers to insert themselves into Bella’s shoes, to become her for the duration of the series. Because nobody, it seems, reads the books for Bella. They read it for Edward.

Edward Cullen is a 17-year-old with hard, alabaster skin, bronze hair and angelic features. He’s seductive, chivalrous and wholly devoted to the frail, plain Bella, who can’t understand why anyone as perfect as him would single out someone as average as her. To some extent, one could say that it was love at first sniff. No one in the world smells as beautiful to Edward as Bella does. Unfortunately, that makes their relationship Bella’s most dangerous circumstance yet, because Edward is a vampire. A vampire who has no intention whatsoever of giving into his thirst for Bella, but who suspects the best way to avoid that possibility is to stay away from her altogether. But Edward is just as deeply in love as Bella is, so abandonment isn’t that easy.

It’s easy to see the attraction of Edward, as well as the objections. On the plus side, here is a man who is never going to age physically. He’ll always be young and gorgeous. What’s more, he’s incredibly romantic and protective. And, at least at this point, his courtship with Bella is quite chaste. On the other hand, he’s about a century old, which makes his dalliance with Bella a tad creepy, especially when one considers the fact that he sneaks into her house at night, sometimes when even she isn’t aware of it. He’s also very condescending, and he doesn’t really offer Bella the chance to make decisions for herself.  Additionally, though he is always worried about Bella hurting herself, he drives like a maniac while she is in the car with him, laughing as he lets the spedometer creep up to twice the speed limit. 

Though the Harry Potter comparisons are what I most often hear, the similarities there are limited. Of course, Robert Pattinson plays Cedric in one film series and Edward in the other. Both series have stirred up considerable controversy. Both concern a supernatural population kept hidden from the greater public. Moreover, Bella’s attraction to Edward’s “family,” who in fact are not related to one another at all, feels similar to the delight Harry takes in the Weasley family. But Bella has parents of her own, and though they are separated, each clearly cares about her a great deal, so she’s hardly an orphan. Additionally, while J. K. Rowling’s world is full of color and inventive elements, Meyer’s is drab and shadowy, and melodramatic Twilight could sorely use a dose of Rowling’s humor. One might argue that both series are ultimately about one thing: love. But Harry Potter delves most deeply into the idea of sacrificial love, while Twilight is all about romance. A romance for which Bella may indeed sacrifice her life as she knows it, but the benefit, it seems, would be to her and Edward alone. This is a lot less like Harry Potter than it is like Romeo and Juliet. Bella and Edward are all wrong for each other, but they’re determined to have a go at it anyway.

While I understand why Edward is so appealing, Meyer lays the adulation on a little thick. Scarcely a page goes by in which Bella fails to mention some element of his perfection, and she quickly runs out of new ways to say it, so the novel starts to sound pretty repetitive. To be honest, I found myself much more interested in some of the side characters, particularly Edward’s bubbly, compassionate “sister” Alice, who is able to catch glimpses of the possible future, and warm, heroic Cullen patriarch Carlisle, who is the oldest of the bunch and has become so disciplined after centuries of practice that he is able to work as a surgeon without being tempted by the smell of human blood. He and the others in his family feast only on animal blood, making them less of a threat than just about any other vampires in the world. Nonetheless, not all members of the family have Carlisle’s self-control, so they still aren’t exactly safe, at least as long as Bella is human.

Going back to Harry Potter, that series is quite preoccupied with death, and so is Twilight. All of super-villain Voldemort’s actions are motivated by his desire to conquer death, and we see other characters toy with that prospect. Ultimately, the series seems to confirm headmaster Albus Dumbledore’s comment that there are things far worse than death, and at the moment, this is how Edward feels. But Bella desperately wants to bypass the natural order of things in order to become an equal to Edward, no longer a liability, no longer doomed to grow old while her true love remains young and vital. Bella is determined to be transformed into a vampire, despite Edward’s fear that becoming a vampire destroys one’s soul. This conflict finds no resolution in the first book, but the two points of view could create some interesting fodder for discussion.

I’m only halfway through the series myself. I’ll probably finish it, but I’m not committed to doing so. These are not characters who have seeped into my soul, and after two more books, I doubt they will be any more real to me than Lemony Snicket’s Baudelaire orphans - and at least those books were hilarious. Nonetheless, as I was reading, I couldn’t stop turning the pages. I was engrossed enough that I had to know what would happen next and impressed with the many positive qualities various members of the Cullen clan display. I wouldn’t recommend the series to children younger than high school, and I do think that parents would do well to read the books themselves so they can talk about some of their more unsettling elements; some worthwhile conversations could result. As for me, I’ll still take Cedric Diggory over Edward Cullen – and Neville Longbottom over Cedric Diggory – but I see no need to toss Edward on the bonfire.