TBAT is pleased to present the first Slacktiverse Special
There’s a chance you’ve heard of “Twilight” – Stephenie Meyer’s four-book series on sparkly vampires have won multiple awards including the 2008 British Book Award for “Children’s Book of the Year” and the 2009 Kids’ Choice Award for “Favorite Book”. As of this time last year, the series had sold over 100 million copies worldwide, and has resulted in a series of movie spin-offs. * And if you’re a dedicated book shopper you can also blame the popularity of “Twilight” for the glut of new YA paranormal literature that is now being published by the bucket-load in the hopes that lightning will strike twice.
What’s fascinating about this level of popularity is that the plot in “Twilight” is actually fairly simple – the series revolves around a love triangle between an ordinary teenage girl and the two paranormal men who love her: a pale 104-year-old vampire masquerading as a high school teenager and a swarthy Native American werewolf with fiery skin and a fiery temper.
There’s very little to be had in “Twilight” besides the love triangle – this isn’t an action-packed series like “The Hunger Games”, it’s not a religious commentary like “His Dark Materials”, and it’s not as concerned with the paranormal elements in the story as is, say, “The Spiderwick Chronicles” or “Sisters of the Moon”. Yet, despite the sparse plot and characterization, “Twilight” continues to be massively popular – the books, movies, and spin-off novellas still sell astonishingly well, even six years after the first run in 2005. The fans aren’t all YA girls, either – demographically speaking, women of all ages are ardent fans of the series (including my 60-year-old mother-in-law), and I myself can claim a teenage step-son who attends the movies with only token protests.
Now, I’m particularly fond of literary deconstruction, especially of popular series – I feel that it’s important to take a long look at a phenomenon like “Twilight” and tease apart what the narrative means to us and about us as a society. What’s awkward about deconstructing “Twilight”, though, is that unlike, say, the “Left Behind” series (an example taken completely and totally at random**), there’s not a significant body of readers that claims “Twilight” as a life guide to be followed – if evangelical works like “Left Behind” are seen as proscriptive by their readers, then we can safely say that works like “Twilight” are generally seen as descriptive by their readers. Most readers take “Twilight” as fluff literature only – and may actively resent the implication that by enjoying a popular series, they are somehow participating in something Bad.
I’m sympathetic to that viewpoint – a deconstruction of a popular series needn’t be about how the readers are bad for enjoying it. So while I think we have a responsibility to ourselves to look at popular literature as Serious Business and examine what the underlying assumptions and themes in that literature say about society in general, I would never presume to say that enjoying “Twilight” as a series says something about a reader in particular.
And having now said that, there’s a lot to be said about the themes within “Twilight”. The series has been accused of racism, as the lovely heroine wavers indecisively between her two suitors: one calm, cool, controlled, and marble-white; the other testy, aggressive, emotional, and dark-skinned. The series has also been accused of sexism, as almost all of the women in the book have very few interests outside the home – women are defined almost completely in terms of the men around them. These issues become even more complex when taking into account Stephenie Meyer’s membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints – LDS doctrine on the place of women*** and non-white peoples**** in the church has historically been complicated, to say the least. All these issues are things that I think can and do deserve to be discussed (and I try to do so to the best of my poor abilities), even if the discussion makes us uncomfortable. Especially if the discussion makes us uncomfortable.
However, one issue that stands out to me more than any other issue in “Twilight” is that of deception. That might not seem very important – deception is a respected staple of YA literature because it allows the scrappy protagonists a chance to duck away from prying adult eyes in order to have adventures. And I would be the last person on earth to tell you that deception is some sort of categorical “sin” – I learned a long time ago that it’s rarely worthwhile to anyone for me to say exactly what’s on my mind. Judicious, thoughtful, and minimal use of deception can prevent strife, defuse arguments, and soothe hurt feelings. By contrast, though, excessive deception can utterly wreck people and relationships, and it is this sort of deception that frustrates and fascinates me as I work through “Twilight”.
The first few pages of “Twilight” are literally covered with deceptions. The novel opens with protagonist Bella Swan as she prepares to leave her mother in Phoenix, Arizona to move in with her father in Forks, Washington. This move represents a major sacrifice for Bella – she has always made it clear that she hates Forks – but she wants to provide space for her newly remarried mother. What’s astonishing about this actually-not-uncommon situation is the way in which is it utterly characterized by silence, lies, and deception. Bella’s mother knows why Bella is moving, and pleads with her to stay, but it’s clear to both Bella and the reader that she doesn’t really mean it. Bella insists, over and over again, that she wants to go, that the experience will be good for her, but both women know this is a lie. Bella’s father – who has been rung up out of the blue and told to air out Bella’s room – doesn’t have the first clue why his emotionally distant daughter would suddenly want to live in a town she has previously refused to even visit… and he doesn’t feel the desire to ask. To paraphrase one of my previous posts
I find this setup frustrating because neither Bella nor Renee have actually broached the topic in plain English and discussed the situation like adults. What's worse is that Charlie is completely in the dark about Bella's motivations. Charlie doesn't need to be confused about this situation, and if he is to have any kind of meaningful relationship with Bella, he shouldn't be forced into continuing that state of confusion. Charlie's interpretation of Bella's decision will completely color all his interactions with her over the next several months, and thus it's important that he start with the correct interpretation of the situation.
In a healthy family, Bella's sudden and completely uncharacteristic decision to move to a place she openly hates would have triggered an avalanche of discussions within the family from either side: Is she unhappy with school? Does she dislike Phil, or has he hurt her in any way? Has her relationship with her mother become strained as a result of her new marriage? Of course, Bella reassures the reader that none of those things are true, but it's telling that neither of her parents even bother to ask about these things.
This theme of lies and deception doesn’t begin and end as a simple literary device to propel Bella towards the plot as quickly as possible – almost as soon as Bella steps off the plane, she will start lying to her mother, her father, her classmates, and her many, many suitors. From within the preponderance of lies and deceptions, there starts to arise a disturbing trend: the apparent belief within the text that Bella should be doing all this lying.
You see, when Bella lies, it’s almost always in order to get what she wants without having to plainly say what she wants. The fact that Bella’s lies are often burdensome and painful to her makes a degree of sense from a characterization perspective – it may not be the best choice to protect your family from difficult truths with pleasant lies, but it’s certainly a realistic choice. However, that reasoning starts to fracture when non-paranormal boys start pursuing Bella and we see her desperately lying to them in repeated and vain attempts to deflect their unwanted attentions rather than plainly and firmly saying, “No.” She has travel plans! She has to stay home and study! She has to wash her hair that weekend!
What’s noteworthy about this is that Bella has no reason to lie to these boys. She doesn’t care about their feelings, she’s not friends with them in any meaningful way, and she doesn’t even want to be friends with them – she doesn’t anticipate a single consequence to a plain rejection that she wouldn’t otherwise welcome. Furthermore, she’s well aware that her evasions will clearly not solve the issue, so she additionally works tirelessly to try to shift their attentions onto other classmates. Bella isn’t a matchmaker and doesn’t take any pleasure at all in these machinations – she just wants to be left alone and the only apparent route that she can see towards this goal is to work constantly to “avoid” and/or “fix” the situation without ever once so much as hinting at the truth: that she’s just not that into them.
When we see Bella’s lies in this light – as painful and burdensome lies that she feels compelled to tell to near-strangers rather than be honest about her own wants and needs – then all her other lies start to sharply refocus into something disturbing. Maybe Bella doesn’t lie to her parents because she’s a normal girl who doesn’t want them to worry, or because she’s a manipulative girl interested in getting her own way – maybe her lies and silence (as well as her parents’ curious disinterest in talking to her) are indicative of a family environment where “good daughters” don’t express wants beyond what has been planned for them. Maybe Bella doesn’t lie to her paranormal suitors because she fears hurting them or because she’s trying to avoid rejection – maybe she feels shamed into denying that she even has desires and plans. Suddenly, these deceptions aren’t healthy, judicious choices that Bella makes in service to an end-goal – they’re an unhealthy, forced behavior that attempts to somehow reconcile a contradiction between Bella’s internal desires and her “appropriate” external behavior.
Stephenie Meyer has dismissed feminist criticism of “Twilight” by saying that the fact that Bella exercises “choice” throughout the novels reflects the foundation of modern feminism*. However, it seems to me that the “feminism” that “Twilight” offers us is a very poor one indeed. The Feminism of Twilight is that you CAN have your choice and follow your dreams – as long as your choice is shrouded in subterfuge.
The Feminism of “Twilight” seems to be that you can choose to not date a boy you’re not interested in… but you’d better expend a lot of time and effort into making sure you don’t hurt his feelings with a plain rejection. You can choose a different path from what your parents want for you… but it’s best not to sit down and discuss it with them because that will hurt their fantasy of you as their precious little girl. You can choose to plan ahead for sex, er, vampirism, but you’d better keep those desires and plans to yourself or your boyfriend may think you’re slutty. Choice is great, after all, but you wouldn’t want a reputation as a stuck-up, disobedient, slutty girl… would you?
Of course, the major problem with this is that a worldview that gives girls “choice” but expects them to be secretive and ashamed of exercising it isn’t healthy. It’s exhausting for the girls as they constantly work to maintain the perfect appearance of fulfilling the expectations laid on them by their peers, parents, and lovers. Furthermore, it’s dangerous – when you can’t safely own and express your desires, then you also can’t receive valuable feedback and advice. A system that allows “choice” only when it’s accompanied by deception and shame destroys families, ruins relationships, and tears apart girls – and yet it’s this system that I feel “Twilight” encourages for our young women. I don’t blame Stephenie Meyer for this, but I do blame the environment that raised her (and, for that matter, the rest of us) to believe that the only way she can have her cake is if she eats it after all the guests have left.
--Ana Mardoll
Visit Ana's website to read more of her analysis of the Twilight books
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* Source
** I may have mentioned before that I’m a huge fan of Fred Clark’s “Left Behind” deconstructions and those posts were a strong inspiration for my starting a “Twilight” series.
*** Source
**** Source
The Slacktiverse is a community blog. Content reflects the individual opinions of the contributors. We welcome disagreement in the comment threads, and invite anyone who wishes to present an alternative interpretation of a situation to write and submit a post.
I can't begin to express my pleasure at being able to write a Slacktiverse Special post - thank you to everyone on The Slacktiverse (including the wonderful three-headed TBAT) for this opportunity. :D
I should say that if you're interested in reading more of my "Twilight" posts, here is a topical link to let you bypass all the book reviews and new author interviews and drill straight down to the fun-and-juicy critiques:
http://www.anamardoll.com/search/label/blog%20deconstruction
Thank you again!
Posted by: anamardoll | Mar 25, 2011 at 08:42 PM
That certainly resonates with me. I have a niece, and I imagine she is growing up much as I did, going through machinations not to hurt people's... no, BOYS' feelings, ... I was fortunate not to have parents like that, but I can extrapolate. If you and I are right, my niece's fannishness makes perfect sense. Bella makes sense to them.
Ugh. That's not pleasant to imagine.
Posted by: Thalia | Mar 25, 2011 at 08:47 PM
Great post, Ana. Thank you.
I don't have much intelligent to say, but wanted to point you in the direction of a critique of the Evangelical Christian embrace of the Twilight books:
“Why Are You Apologizing for Bleeding?” Confronting the Evangelical Embrace of Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight Saga
Posted by: Adrenalin Tim | Mar 25, 2011 at 09:34 PM
I don't know much about Twilight other than it's popular and it seems pretty silly. But I wonder if this emphasis on deception is really intentional, or just sloppy writing on the part of someone who enjoys deception all the time. That is, if you write a story based on the predicate that Monsters Aren't That Bad After All, then having a lying protagonist doesn't seem that far fetched. And given the generally tepid reviews I've heard from friends who bothered to read the things, it seems like the author might not really be in control of whether deception is an intentional character trait or just something to write about.
Also, as a man, I'd like to point out: You can't be a feminist if the only desirable men in your book are monsters.
Posted by: Enoch Root | Mar 25, 2011 at 09:46 PM
Good post, and welcome Ana! I haven't read "Twilight," but many of my friends have, and your critique resonates with what they've said.
Posted by: Karen, who needs to write a new blog post | Mar 25, 2011 at 09:55 PM
@Enoch Root: I don't know much about Twilight other than it's popular and it seems pretty silly.
Can I snarkily say that almost anything can be described in a way that makes it sound "silly" and that if you don't know much about it it might be best not to second guess the critique of someone who does.
But I wonder if this emphasis on deception is really intentional, or just sloppy writing on the part of someone who enjoys deception all the time.
Since you haven't "bothered to" read "the things" you don't really have any creds when it comes to commenting on the writing.
I have read Meyer and though she is not one of the great stylists of our time I wouldn't characterize her writing as sloppy. For example, unlike the writers of the Left Behind series she seems to have actually kept track of what she wrote in the previous chapter. Bella is annoying (to me) but her characterization doesn't waiver from chapter to chapter. She is a fully realized person whose virtues and faults do not change from one page to another. Indeed, once one has read the first several chapters of Twilight one has a firm grasp on what Bella is likely to do in a given circumstance.
That is one of the strangely compelling qualities of the book -- that Bella is a fully realized character, albeit the type of fully realized character that someone with Meyer's background and belief systems would create. Bella lies (to herself as much as to anyone) not because Meyer is sloppy but because given Meyer's depiction of her, there is no other way Bella could have responded.
Also, as a man, I'd like to point out: You can't be a feminist if the only desirable men* in your book are monsters.
As a woman I'd like to point out that I don't need a man to tell me how to be a feminist -- and it is fairly simple to be a feminist even if most of the men around you are monsters. Just ask many of the real world feminists who are dealing with real world monsters.
*You do realize, don't you, that not all women spend their lives looking for a "desirable" man?
Posted by: Mmy | Mar 25, 2011 at 10:37 PM
This kind of deception on the part of females wishing to find an "eternal love" in supernatural males in young adult lit isn't terribly unique. It seems a natural extension of the teen angst theme "no one understands me". Girls in these books don't act out when they aren't heard like boys do. Instead the become increasingly meek, obedient or self destructive... Ophelia syndrome.
Meyers is capable of some more complex writing, as is evidenced by The Host, so I don't think Bella's seemingly stereotypical angst-filled and rather two dimensional relationships are entirely accidental. I do think, at times, that they may be entirely commercial, appealing to the most shallow longings in young girls.
Posted by: Dorid | Mar 25, 2011 at 10:37 PM
Rhinestones are sparkly and pretty. Vampires are cool. Unless you are David Bowie, combining the two is an abomination.
My theory is that Edward Cullen is actually a Chupacabra. He drinks the blood of livestock, is a stalker by nature, and displays mineral characteristics in sunlight.
Okay, enough bashing on THOSE grounds.
@Enoch I fail to see your reasoning. Why should it matter that much whether the men are human or monsters? Unless you're actually suggesting that they are horrible people (which I won't dispute). Your case then is...better.
Anyways, just thought I'd leave this here: How It Should Have Ended
(not to try to steal any thunder here, but I found copies of Jenkins' Underground Zealot novels, and I'm looking at doing a dissection of them soon; could not find The Brotherhood at library though)
Posted by: Ravanan | Mar 25, 2011 at 11:00 PM
Great post, Ana, and thank you! You actually just clarified something for me with this line: she just wants to be left alone and the only apparent route that she can see towards this goal is to work constantly to “avoid” and/or “fix” the situation without ever once so much as hinting at the truth
This describes my best friend, though in a somewhat different situation. (Incidentally, said best friend was my introduction to the "Twilight" series, and she is a big "Twilight" fan.) Without getting into details, my friend has a fairly difficult relationship with her parents, one that is defined by deceiving one parent with regards to her (my friend's) feelings, or massive emotional blow-outs with the other parent when said feelings come to light. Not a terribly functional situation, and one that has recently become much worse.
I've been trying to understand my friend's attraction to the whole saga for a couple of years, because friend, in most other aspects, finds much of the saga's subject matter repugnant (i.e. the stalking, the manipulation, the strict gender roles, the chastity -- she's not a big romance reader, either). She's my normal deconstruction partner, so when she couldn't define why she identified with Bella so strongly, nor why she found the lads charming, it astonished both of us. (I find the whole series baffling and repellant.) Now, I'm getting it -- Bella successfully avoids conflict in the same way my friend tries to do. I'm now trying to think of other female protagonists who successfully use this same tactic* and for the most part, coming up blank. But it's not an uncommon real-world strategy, except that in the real world, it usually fails.
I'd like to chalk up Bella's chronic self- and other-deception to poor writing (because it's not like the series lacks sketchy language, two-dimensional characterization and iffy world-building) but I'm afraid it's all too apt since deception and deception by omission are common enough conflict avoidance strategies. I am going to continue to hope that the attraction for younger readers (I'm GenX, my friend is lagging-edge X/bleeding edge Y, so we're out of the target market) is the mystery of a hidden world of somewhat empathetic monsters, the romance of being at the apex of a triangle and the thrill of limerence and unconsummated attraction instead of the other awfulness that I pick up.
* Buffy, occasionally, especially in season six, which works So Very Poorly; Kate in "Lost", with similar iffy results. Even in The Host when Meyers' protagonists deceive each other, it's for good reasons. (Not saying more to avoid being spoilery.) Maybe I'm missing something by being more of an SF&F reader when in leisure...
Posted by: CZEdwards | Mar 25, 2011 at 11:31 PM
Beyond the unhealthiness of caring so much for the fragility of BOYs' feelings, it just plainly doesn't work, it doesn't spare anyone's feelings, just hurt it more, and will only earn resentment for the deceiver. A plain rejection is a solid thing, one can take and move on, deception on the other hand is an amorphous blob that is impossible to handle and shades everything it touches.
Posted by: lucky7 | Mar 25, 2011 at 11:36 PM
Even disregarding her flagrant abuse of the English language, SMeyer is incapable of good writing for the simple fact that she refuses to acknowledge that her characters are deeply flawed people in fantastically unhealthy relationships. Even her snark is boring. Also, the misogyny isn't hidden.
Posted by: Kitti | Mar 26, 2011 at 01:14 AM
Great start - I think I'm going to be reading more of your work. I have heard a lot about the Twilight series, including many criticisms of it, but this aspect of deception is one I have NOT heard. An additional problem with telling girls that they should be deceptive and not honest about their feelings - it promotes an unhealthy attitude for men, too. Men are so often told that women never say what they mean, and so men have to play a strange game to try to find out what it is that women really want. Women supposedly play hard to get, and you never know if they're just playing games or what they really mean. This leads men to assume that a woman is lying or being evasive, that when she says "no" she really means "yes", and this leads to not taking a woman's own words seriously, and to not listening to her when she explains her wants, needs, and choices. Ultimately this kind of attitude can even lead to men ignoring or overriding a woman's right to say no - I'm certain this contributes to the vast number of rapes perpetrated in our society. It may seem like an exaggeration, but I really do believe this is true.
Posted by: ArianaDream | Mar 26, 2011 at 01:40 AM
There's a T-shirt for sale over at Riot Nrrd that reads:
TEAM BELLA
GET OUT NOW, GIRL
Posted by: Jenny Islander | Mar 26, 2011 at 01:51 AM
Buffy vs Edward: Twilight Remixed
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZwM3GvaTRM
Posted by: Nebris | Mar 26, 2011 at 02:39 AM
For an interesting take on the Twilight series and Bella in particular, check out Luminosity, a fanfic where Bella is a rationalist. As the author puts it, "A few thousand words in, the plot is unrecognizeable." I dare say rational!Bella is a good bit more psychologically and socially healthy than canon!Bella.
Posted by: Jim | Mar 26, 2011 at 02:45 AM
Women supposedly play hard to get, and you never know if they're just playing games or what they really mean. This leads men to assume that a woman is lying or being evasive, that when she says "no" she really means "yes", and this leads to not taking a woman's own words seriously, and to not listening to her when she explains her wants, needs, and choices. Ultimately this kind of attitude can even lead to men ignoring or overriding a woman's right to say no - I'm certain this contributes to the vast number of rapes perpetrated in our society.
A joke from Archie Comics (mid-'60s):
Dilton Doily is lamenting his lack of success in the romance department. Reggie offers to set him straight:
"When a girl says, 'No,' she really means, 'Maybe"; And when she says, 'Maybe,' she really means, 'Yes!' And that's all there is to the Kiss Biz, dig?"
"But the girls I ask don't say, 'Yes,' 'No,' or 'Maybe'; th-they just say, 'Phooey'!" [Exit downcast Dilton as Archie and Reggie collapse in laughter.]
This has been another in a series of Jokes They Couldn't Do Today.
Posted by: Brad | Mar 26, 2011 at 02:48 AM
@Ariana I'm reminded of my favorite Disney female who was in an otherwise rather lackluster movie. Megara, from Hercules. Specifically the line: "Well you know how men are, they think "No" means "Yes" and "Get lost" means "Take me, I'm yours." " I agree that it probably plays some role, but it probably isn't that significant. A lot of guys (and a disturbing number of women), for instance, seem to think that women in certain styles of clothing are giving their consent by doing so (I'm not trying to victim-blame here, I'm pointing out that a lot of people do...rape culture and whatnot).
Posted by: Ravanan | Mar 26, 2011 at 02:48 AM
Slightly more on-topic: IIRC, Bella makes a point of mentioning, several times, that she dislikes lying and doesn't do it often, and then only when absolutely necessary. When practically all of her interactions with other characters are marked by dishonesty, I must conclude that there is something not right here. More disturbing to me, though, is how SMeyer sees suicidal!Bella in New Moon; she keeps calling Bella self-sacrificing, but that rings absolutely false. By definition, it only counts as a sacrifice if you actually care about the thing you're giving up. Unless the word "sacrifice" has a different meaning in the Twiverse, which is entirely possible (see also: Meyer/Bella's use of the word "irony"). Being willing to die for someone doesn't really mean much if you want to die anyway.
Posted by: Kitti | Mar 26, 2011 at 03:02 AM
I really enjoyed this!
I have a slightly different read on Bella's deceptiveness, which I'd be interested to hear Ana's view on.
You say earlier on your blog, Ana, that Bella comes across as 'catty and spoiled', both of which I agree with, and it's one of her distinguishing features that she's never actually nice to anybody. She hides herself, but her internal commentary about everybody except Edward is extremely spiteful and contemptuous, and even with Edward, an awful lot of what she says to him is of the eye-rolling sarcastic variety. They do what he says, but most of her conversation with him has a surprisingly confrontational air to it - which is as pervasive, and as unnecessary, as her constant lies.
To me, these combine to convey an impression of superiority. Bella pays a lot of lip-service to her supposed faults, but they're morally neutral things like clumsiness and they never actually cause her any problems; when it comes to how she judges people, she always looks down on them. Even with her father, it's phrases like 'I put my foot down' and 'I couldn't compromise' - the language of authority rather than submission. And despite her supposed insecurity about her looks, she views her attraction to Edward in the manner of a girl who has the right to expect his attention. A truly insecure girl, you'd think, would recognise that she had a crush, assume there's no way he'd ever be interested in the likes of her, sigh and try to hide her feelings so nobody could tease her about them - and especially hide them from him, because if he knew he'd probably laugh at her, right? Bella, on the other hand, is perfectly prepared to demand Edward's attention, even though she knows he's never stooped to pay any attention to the girls she's supposedly friends with.
So I wonder if you might argue that Bella's constant lying is partly an issue of status: she's not about to let lesser mortals know what she's thinking, because that would mean making some kind of connection with them, and connected with anybody less high-status than Edward would sully her. Among its other qualities, Twilight is very, very, very much a book of social aspiration - Edward's in the coolest clique on campus, and being a vampire just makes him even cooler - and one of the things about social climbing is that you don't want 'trash hanging on to your coat-tails', as Margaret Mitchell puts it. Telling people the truth would mean having genuine relationships with them, which would hold her back.
This being a book full of doublethink, there's no reason why it couldn't be about superiority and Good Girlness at the same time. But my take was that Bella had a gloss of appropriate femininity over a ragingly entitled ego.
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:38 AM
Hooray! A Twilight post! The ongoing series is great and everyone should read it immediately.
I should probably admit here that I haven't read more than a few pages of the books (and saw New Moon on DVD), although my sister hated them and my (usually very smart and rational and at least somewhat feminist) favourite cousin quite enjoyed them. So there's that. (I am more disturbed by my early-teen cousin on the other side of the family who was the first person I knew to read them, but that is mostly because she's already in a very chastity-focused environment.)
Anyway, the deception angle is really interesting and, I think, important. I find for myself that while I don't outright lie often, I have a very hard time saying No (as well as saying when I want TO do something that someone else hasn't already brought up as an option). So the whole, "Yeah, I can't, I have to do homework," thing is really familiar. Is this because of my authoritarian childhood? Is this a facet of my personality, to not want to upset others? Is it because I was raised female in a sexist society? It's probably a mixture of all of the above, but I can't say I would recommend a book like this to a young woman, since it just reinforces that same bullshit.
This analysis really does help me understand why someone might identify with Bella, though.
(Besides the bit where I now see her as Joan Jett all the time, and oh God that version of Kristen Stewart is so incredibly gay and super hot, but yeah. Not talking about my celebrity lesbian crushes here or anything.)
Posted by: Nenya | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:39 AM
@Brad - Ha, exactly. (I wonder if that joke was funnier back then.)
@Ravanan - Oh man, I LOVE Megara. One of my favorites, definitely. I need to get busy and write that review of Hercules for my blog. Come to think of it, it's really kind of awesome that they put into words that very problem and had a strong, female character say it.
Posted by: ArianaDream | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:47 AM
I have, for awhile, tried to understand why my sister enjoys these books so much- to the point of begging me to read them. I did, and I just couldn't understand the appeal. It was horrendously dull. In the light of this essay I am reminded that she does tend to be a pathological liar. She lies, to herself and to others and has as long as I have known her. I know that another part of her wishes for the perfect romance (like many girls, she thought Romeo and Juliet was the height of romance) and has had some very bad experiences with men. She also seems to be terrified of being alone.
At any rate, I like the analysis because I still DON'T GET IT.
Posted by: Asha ( EHHH??) | Mar 26, 2011 at 05:07 AM
I've been reading the article Adrenalin Tim linked with great interest, but the link to the second part of it is broken. If anyone's looking for it, here you go:
Part II: http://theotherjournal.com/2010/10/05/grateful-victimization-joyful-suffering-confronting-the-evangelical-embrace-of-stephenie-meyer%E2%80%99s-twilight-saga-part-ii/
Part III: http://theotherjournal.com/2010/11/17/the-bruises-of-bella-swan-confronting-the-evangelical-embrace-of-stephenie-meyer’s-twilight-saga-part-iii/
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Mar 26, 2011 at 06:01 AM
Forgive me my ignorance (being a man), but I always understood that when a woman gives an evasive answer to the advances of a man, especially a man she doesn't know, this is a form of self protection.
For example, when a man comes up to a woman in a bar offering her a drink, she never knows if she gives him a direct "no" whether he will become agressive or not. It seems to me that giving an evasive answer ("I have to see a friend/I'm going home already/whatever") is safer in this respect.
So I wouldn't always call it deception.
Posted by: LeRoc | Mar 26, 2011 at 06:43 AM
I always understood that when a woman gives an evasive answer to the advances of a man, especially a man she doesn't know, this is a form of self protection.
Like men, women are a diverse group of people who may have a variety of different motivations behind the same action. We aren't all the same.
For example, when a man comes up to a woman in a bar offering her a drink, she never knows if she gives him a direct "no" whether he will become agressive or not. It seems to me that giving an evasive answer ("I have to see a friend/I'm going home already/whatever") is safer in this respect.
It's an awful lot more complicated than that. Women aren't just afraid of attack: we're socialised from childhood to avoid hurting anyone's feelings by asserting ourselves too much. Like men, women are punished when they stray from the approved gender role, and equivocal refusals are an integral part of the female role.
In addition, an unclear 'no' is likely to be more dangerous than a clear one. A direct 'no' should deter a decent man, and if a man doesn't respect it, he signals his potential danger in time for the woman to get away. An unclear refusal, however, can be misread as a potential 'yes', leading some men who'd walk away from a straight 'no' to become more aggressive in the hopes of persuading a woman to change her mind.
So no, not really.
So I wouldn't always call it deception.
Seriously - if you're not a woman, it's really not a good idea to make pronouncements on what women are like. There are women in this discussion; ask us if you want to know. You're describing women as if there aren't any women around to hear you, even when the author of the article and several posters are identifiably female. This is very rude. Please reconsider this.
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Mar 26, 2011 at 06:57 AM
Huh, I've never heard of the idea of not saying a clear no in order to prevent someone from becoming aggressive. I don't do the bar scene, but if I did, I'd feel pretty comfortable saying a very polite and genuine, "Oh, that's sweet of you to offer, but no thank you." Hopefully this is also pretty clear. If a man got aggressive for any reason after this, at least I'd be in a public place, and would be able to tell from his behavior if I'd have to be particularly careful on my way to my car later. (Although I'm always very careful on my way to my car at night. Being a woman pretty much means ALWAYS thinking about your safety and your surroundings, never heading for your car without your keys at the ready (and palmed in such a way that you can scratch an attacker's face with them), and probably making sure you have a trusted escort of some type, too.
Anyway, points for at least realizing that women often do things for the sake of caution and safety, purely because we are women and sometimes that's just what we have to do. Although I've never heard of a woman being reluctant to give a clear no because of her own safety - quite the opposite. Making your boundaries and wishes very clear is a basic part of keeping yourself safe and preserving those boundaries.
Posted by: ArianaDream | Mar 26, 2011 at 07:11 AM
Ravanan: (not to try to steal any thunder here, but I found copies of Jenkins' Underground Zealot novels, and I'm looking at doing a dissection of them soon; could not find The Brotherhood at library though)
Got it covered. :D
http://heathencritique.wordpress.com/category/soon/
Posted by: Ruby | Mar 26, 2011 at 07:59 AM
@Ravanan--I'm not sure The Brotherhood is part of Underground Zealot series anyway, which is Soon, Silenced, and Shadowed. I think The Brotherhood is part of Jenkins' new Precinct 11 series.
Posted by: Ruby | Mar 26, 2011 at 08:02 AM
@Kitti: SMeyer is incapable of good writing for the simple fact that she refuses to acknowledge that her characters are deeply flawed people in fantastically unhealthy relationships
The fact that a writer (in your words) "refuses to acknowledge" some aspect of her characters that you think unhealthy does not may her "incapable of good writing" unless your definition of *good* means "agrees with me about what people should and should not be like and uses an anvil to hit readers on and about the head with that opinion."
Shakespeare, by that definition, is clearly not a good writer.
Posted by: Mmy | Mar 26, 2011 at 09:08 AM
@LeRoc--Actually, if I gave a guy an unequivical No in a public place, I would be very surprised if he became aggressive. Men aren't socialized to be aggressive to women in public any more than women are socialized to give firm denials. So being "evasive" is not "self-protection" for me.
Posted by: Ruby, on the go | Mar 26, 2011 at 09:23 AM
Just a suggestion: Men, you might want to be particularly careful about what you say about women in this thread. Don't make generalizations about us, don't tell us how to be feminists, don't talk about things you don't know about. Do engage, do talk, do ask about things you don't understand. But do watch your privilege.
Topics like this seem to bring guys out of the woodwork to mansplain these things to us poor wimminfolk.
Posted by: MadGastronomer, who is very tired | Mar 26, 2011 at 10:03 AM
I'm so glad several posters have brought up "The Host" - I read that book after I read "Twilight" and was shocked and surprised to find that I un-ironically thought it was quite good. I spent a few weeks puzzling over this - at first I thought Stephenie Meyer had maybe had a great deal of editing help, or had taken some "Twilight" criticisms to heart, bu the more I analyzed it, I kept finding the same themes in "The Host" as I did in "Twilight" - it's just that those themes didn't bother me anymore in "The Host".
The reason for this, I realized, is that the setting in "The Host" is completely different than in "Twilight". In "The Host", the main character is quite literally a Prisoner Of War in a quiet literally hostile environment. She's beaten and abused, and if she doesn't go along 100% with every little thing her captors want, she quite literally will be killed on the spot.
With that change of setting, it makes sense for the main character to deceive if it will mean her survival. It makes sense for her to be submissive to the "love interests" and acquiesce to their wishes with only token protests. It makes sense that she's carried around like a sack of potatoes all the time (Meyer is very fond of her female protagonists being carried around) because between the beatings and the fact that her captors don't want her able to escape, she's not allowed to walk on her own very much to begin with.
It was only after seeing how the themes make sense in a situation of captivity, that I started to feel that maybe Bella was in a situation of captivity too - and I just couldn't see the cage. Of course, it seems to me that Bella could "get out now" at any time, but it's interesting that she frequently dismisses college and doesn't seem to have any ambition towards a career or higher education. One almost starts to suspect that she hasn't been raised to value these things, or to think that they're attainable for her.
---
But then there's this, and I'm thrilled you brought it up, Kit:
To me, these combine to convey an impression of superiority. Bella pays a lot of lip-service to her supposed faults, but they're morally neutral things like clumsiness and they never actually cause her any problems; when it comes to how she judges people, she always looks down on them. Even with her father, it's phrases like 'I put my foot down' and 'I couldn't compromise' - the language of authority rather than submission.
You're absolutely right - Bella's internal voice is *incredibly* snotty and judgmental - and it's one of the hardest things about analyzing "Twilight", because everyone seems to have these internal contradictions. Even while Bella is yearning after Edward and literally doing everything he tells her to do, she's snarking at him and stomping his foot and generally acting like a brat. And even while Bella is publicly living by Charlie's rules (while smuggling her boyfriend up to her room nightly) and cooking and cleaning and doing his laundry for him, she's internally thinking how out of touch Charlie is and passing judgment on him.
So you end up with this weird combination of a woman who is ultimately submissive (except when she's privately not, which is still submission of a kind) and yet seems to think that she's better than everyone around her, including the men she submits to.
The only thing I can compare this to is my own religious upbringing. I know in retrospect that I was incredibly submissive to the rules - I literally thought rules laid down by my parents and church *couldn't* be broken, and it never occurred to me to even try. Nevertheless, I certainly felt superior to a good many people, including the people making the rules - I felt superior to the rule-makers because I saw that the rules were often nonsensical, but I'm sure I felt superior to the rule-breakers as well because I had been obedient and they had not.
As you say, the internalization of all this isn't mutually exclusive, and it just goes to show how screwed up a sexist society can make you - but the fascinating thing is that it *does* make it very hard to sympathize with Bella at times because her thoughts can be so toxic.
Charlie is a fascinating flip side to this. On the one hand, he seems to have gotten a really raw deal. His wife ran out on him and for the past three years the only way he's been able to see his daughter is to shell out something like $10,000 on California vacations. Despite his endless willingness to please, his daughter seems to completely despise him, and the only pictures he has of her are impersonal school pictures that I imagine look down on him with radiating disapproval. SAD!
On the other hand, though, Charlie is emotionally distant, perpetually lies to Bella, tries to control her to a disturbing degree, seems obsessed with her sexuality, and is a generally crappy father. He seems relieved to "let" Bella take over all the cooking, cleaning, laundry, and housework despite the fact that supposedly he's been doing all that for 16+ years, and you'd think he'd be okay with it by now. He interrogates her about her boyfriends and unhooks her battery leads at night because he's *convinced* she's the type of girl who will sneak out at night (despite there being no evidence of that whatsoever). Most damning of all, he buys her a car (nice!) without asking her opinions (um...) and then tries repeatedly to lie about the age of the car so that she'll be more impressed (bad!).
It's a puzzlement trying to sort out characters who can be sympathetic and yet fundamentally toxic at the same time. o.O
Posted by: anamardoll | Mar 26, 2011 at 10:09 AM
LeRoc,
Others have answered your questions better than I will, but I did wonder - as you did - if maybe Bella's deceptions to her high school suitors were some attempt at self protection. However, in the text she seems pretty clearly unafraid of the boys and doesn't consider rejecting them to be a threat to her physical safety. That's what I was trying to convey when I said, "she doesn’t anticipate a single consequence to a plain rejection that she wouldn’t otherwise welcome," since I knew that not everyone had read the series recently. :)
The question itself ("Is she lying to protect herself?") is not a bad question, and I would not consider deception-for-protection to be a bad thing, but unfortunately it's more complicated for that. Women aren't really trained to be evasive to prevent being hurt because as a strategy it doesn't work - violent men are violent regardless of evasion or straight answers. Victim blaming is used to cover up that fact: when the man gets violent after a clear "no", it's her fault for being so rude; when the man gets violent after an evasive answer, it's her fault for not being upfront and honest.
Of course, many women are trained to be evasive (which is what I'm seeing in Bella's character), but it is almost always conveyed by a heavy layer of "good girls are polite" socialization that is about so much more than just "don't be direct or you might get hurt". Indeed, the latter would in some ways be more healthy framing because at least then it's about "do X behavior to be safe" as opposed to "do X behavior because you need to be constantly aware of and responsible for other people's feelings". The former, while bad advice, at least acknowledges that you deserve to be safe; the latter does not.
Posted by: anamardoll | Mar 26, 2011 at 10:24 AM
@anamardoll: It was only after seeing how the themes make sense in a situation of captivity, that I started to feel that maybe Bella was in a situation of captivity too - and I just couldn't see the cage. Of course, it seems to me that Bella could "get out now" at any time, but it's interesting that she frequently dismisses college and doesn't seem to have any ambition towards a career or higher education. One almost starts to suspect that she hasn't been raised to value these things, or to think that they're attainable for her.
Wow -- that is a good way of thinking about it. Bella cannot acknowledge even to herself that she actually is in a cage yet at the same time she must be aware of it at some level since her behaviour (and even her attitudes) are those of someone who is in a cage and must conduct herself accordingly.
On a fascinatingly meta level one might wonder if Meyer herself was using her ability to write* to escape from her own cage.**
* For those who enjoy scoffing at Meyer's writing ability I challenge you to write a better book. Writing is one of those things that everyone likes to criticize even though most of us have yet to demonstrate we are any better at writing than the authors we criticize.***
** Not psychoanalyzing Meyer. Everyone in our society is in one way or another in cage.
*** Anyone who has had to read several thousand undergraduate essays can tell you just large the gap is between "willingness to criticize" and "ability to write well."
Posted by: Mmy | Mar 26, 2011 at 10:28 AM
WARNING!!! Completely OT posting.
It is official, the Canadian government has fallen. The Conservatives lost a no confidence vote last night and Harper paid the requisite visit to the Governor General today (Saturday morning).
As of now the campaigning has begun and Canadians will go to the polls on May 2.
For Americans who are used to the pace of their elections -- that is May 2 THIS YEAR. Six weeks and two days from today.
Now, we can return to regular commenting and I can pass my time over the next 6 weeks getting annoyed at either
a) the lack of American coverage of the election in the country to the north
or
b)the misinformation in the American coverage of the election in the country to the north.
Posted by: Mmy | Mar 26, 2011 at 10:57 AM
Off topic reply:
I did find some US coverage of the Canadian vote of no confidence. This quote is getting a lot of exercise:
Posted by: Sixwing, who is interested in this (and also wants to avoid an argument with a Tea-partier relative about it) | Mar 26, 2011 at 11:27 AM
Whoa. I think I broke blockquote.
No? Good.
Posted by: Sixwing, who is interested in this (and also wants to avoid an argument with a Tea-partier relative about it) | Mar 26, 2011 at 11:28 AM
Even while Bella is yearning after Edward and literally doing everything he tells her to do, she's snarking at him and stomping his foot and generally acting like a brat.
Yes, that is interesting, isn't it? Their conversation is remarkably unromantic; most of the time it's more like an argument than the language of love.
I've got two theories about that. They may conflict with each other, but then I suspect it's the internal tensions that make the book so appealing to such a wide variety of readers...
The first is that it's a heavy case of 'Guess Culture'. This is a term first proposed on Metafilter, and you can read the whole post here:
http://ask.metafilter.com/55153/Whats-the-middle-ground-between-FU-and-Welcome#830421.
The basic concept is that in some cultures or families, 'it's OK to ask for anything at all, but you gotta realize you might get no for an answer. This is Ask Culture.' On the other hand, 'In Guess Culture, you avoid putting a request into words unless you're pretty sure the answer will be yes. Guess Culture depends on a tight net of shared expectations. A key skill is putting out delicate feelers. If you do this with enough subtlety, you won't even have to make the request directly; you'll get an offer. Even then, the offer may be genuine or pro forma; it takes yet more skill and delicacy to discern whether you should accept.'
You might argue that Bella is afflicted with such a case of Guess Culture that not only does her wellbeing depend on people making decisions for her; she has to make a show of refusing them in order not to look greedy. It's the fantasy of getting exactly what you want without having to articulate it, even to yourself, and no matter how you act.
The other theory is that it's a form of sadomasochism. I've gone into fairly prolix detail about that in the past -
http://kitwhitfield.blogspot.com/2009/08/innocent-libertinism.html
- but the basic idea is that Bella's behaviour towards Edward is ambivalently provocative. She enjoys being controlled, and hence constantly goads him into reassuring displays of dominance.
These two things, as I said, are not incompatible - nor are they incompatible with your (extremely interesting) points about a religious upbringing. Twilight is kind of the ultimate 'all things to all girls' book.
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Mar 26, 2011 at 11:29 AM
@mmy--I've never been a fan of the "If you don't like it, write a better book," school of criticism-of-criticism. Many people are capable of discerning good writing from bad without having been published. To me, that idea smacks way too strongly of the "You cannot criticize the wars unless you served. Did you serve?? WELL, DID YOU, COMMIE???" Response that happens every time a liberal comments on foreign policy.
Posted by: Ruby, on the go | Mar 26, 2011 at 11:35 AM
I think it's legitimate to criticise someone's writing ability without being able to write yourself. I can't write good poetry, but I know bad poetry when I see it.
On the other hand, 'So and so can't write' isn't a very interesting criticism because it's just a flat assertion that shuts down nuance and detail. It isn't particularly interesting even if a good writer says it.
It's also unlikely to be completely correct, at least when it comes to Meyer: Meyer is a writer who can be infelicitous in her phrasing, unbalanced in her plotting and questionable in her views of human nature, but you don't sell that many million books unless you're good at some aspects of writing. She's good at conveying the absolute, single-minded, relentless nature of adolescent love. She's good at writing fantasies that resonate with other women. She's good at holding the reader's attention, or at least, holding many readers' attention. I personally didn't enjoy the first book, which is the only one I've read, because all the other stuff got in the way of the fantasy and page-turning elements, but I think dismissing any successful writer as 'unable to write' is simplistic and inaccurate.
I also think there's a kind of innocence to Meyer's writing. Bella herself is far from innocent - she's manipulative, secretive and self-centred - but it has a raw, unfiltered quality that has a certain intimacy. It's worth recalling that Meyer didn't set out to be a multi-million-selling cult author: she just did what every writer does, which is wrote a book that appealed to her imagination and then sent it off hopefully to a publisher. That she's such a hit is not her fault.
I think there are criticisms you can make of the books' portrayals of human interaction (and of their execution, but in a way, the infelicities are so straightforward that there's a limited amount of interest to say about them), but I don't think she should be written off. There are more interesting things to say about her.
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Mar 26, 2011 at 11:53 AM
@Ruby: -I've never been a fan of the "If you don't like it, write a better book," school of criticism-of-criticism. Many people are capable of discerning good writing from bad without having been published. To me, that idea smacks way too strongly of the "You cannot criticize the wars unless you served.
Fair argument Ruby. I was thinking of people who criticize using a specific language -- that of accusing the writer of being "lazy", "sloppy" or other words that denote lack of effort. That the very same people who make such arguments then regularly turn in writing that is execrable always made me want to ask the person involved why he turned in something that indicated that he was a lazy student with sloppy writing habits.
The thing that angers me is the easy assumption that if the speaker/critic bothered to write a book it would of course be a magnificent piece of writing. Rather like Lady Catherine de Bourgh discussing playing music in Pride and Prejudice
My other pet peeve is to denounce as "bad writing" anything the reader does not like. I have heard students denounce Shakespeare, Homer, Austen, Wharton, James, Melville, Orwell and the female Brontës among others as bad writers since they (the critic) thought it stupid to "worry about whom to marry", "believe Zeus and gods like that", "be depressing" and "worry so much about stupid social values."
There are a lot of books I don't "get" (I have written elsewhere about my struggles with Middlemarch) and a lot of writers whose skill I recognize but whose works I find either emotionally or intellectually unappealing. I think it is important for people to be able to make a distinction between "doesn't work for me" and "she's a bad writer."
I think (?hope?) that having the experience of other people critiquing one's own work would give people a better understanding of the difference between technically bad and "doesn't work for me."
Posted by: Mmy | Mar 26, 2011 at 12:01 PM
That's called "family life".
Posted by: Coleslaw | Mar 26, 2011 at 12:13 PM
Markreads.net does a good job of analyzing the technical flaws of Meyers' writing, like her word usage, sense of pacing, use of foreshadowing, telling-without-showing, and character assassination of Jacob. She may be a good writer, but I think it's fair to say her skills are not showcased in the twilight series.
Posted by: Lunch Meat | Mar 26, 2011 at 12:25 PM
Mmy, I agree with Ruby here. "Don't criticise unless you can do better" is one of the things that makes me twitch. It's not about "bawwww, they're taking away my right to point and laugh!" I, like Ruby, have my own set of (not triggering for me, but unpleasant) associations this idea brings up for me, and those are not some hypothetical examples but things that real people really say/write to/about those who disagree with them. Yes, some of those things were addressed to me. So it's hard for me to be unbiased (or even biased the other way around: "Yay, I'm going to quote Mmy to anyone who will say bad things about my stories!").
Posted by: redcrow | Mar 26, 2011 at 12:27 PM
Oh, I typed too long, I see you addressed it already.
Posted by: redcrow | Mar 26, 2011 at 12:28 PM
Oh, drat, I forgot the setup. See, if you haven't bumped into the million and one examples of this, official Twilight merchandise includes clothes, bags, etc., marked either TEAM JACOB or TEAM EDWARD, for who Bella should end up having weirdly written married sexytimes with. TEAM BELLA (get out now, girl) makes a hell of a lot more sense to me.
Posted by: Jenny Islander | Mar 26, 2011 at 12:35 PM
Mmy, you're right, I have no idea what you are talking about (goes to look up my ex-pat canadian friends to help me decipher it).
@Kit: Guess culture? There's a phrase for the way my family behaves? Now I know why I've had such a hard time establishing "Ask Culture" for myself.
Posted by: Thalia | Mar 26, 2011 at 12:48 PM
As of now the campaigning has begun and Canadians will go to the polls on May 2.
Three days before the UK referendum on the Alternative Vote system, and elections to the Scottish Parliament, Welsh Assembly and Northern Irish Assembly, incidentally. Trying to steal our thunder, Harper? ;-)
Posted by: BringTheNoise | Mar 26, 2011 at 12:59 PM
Mmy: Fair argument Ruby. I was thinking of people who criticize using a specific language -- that of accusing the writer of being "lazy", "sloppy" or other words that denote lack of effort. That the very same people who make such arguments then regularly turn in writing that is execrable always made me want to ask the person involved why he turned in something that indicated that he was a lazy student with sloppy writing habits.
The thing that angers me is the easy assumption that if the speaker/critic bothered to write a book it would of course be a magnificent piece of writing. Rather like Lady Catherine de Bourgh discussing playing music in Pride and Prejudice
I love that bit with Lady Catherine. :D
It rather depends on what exactly the critic is saying, no? When I criticize Soon or Babylon Rising, I am not saying I could write a better novel. (And I say this as someone who has been published, albeit in nonfiction.) But just as it's unfair to say that someone must serve in the military before criticizing a war, it is unfair to say that any critic of literature must first write a popular novel. We have certainly never demanded that of Fred as he deconstructs the LB series.
That said, it may well be unfair to call a writer "lazy" or "sloppy" rather than making more pointed (and less personal) arguments. But that problem will still not be solved by the critic becoming a bestselling novelist.
Posted by: Ruby | Mar 26, 2011 at 01:05 PM
it may well be unfair to call a writer "lazy" or "sloppy" rather than making more pointed (and less personal) arguments
I think it also presumes a level of knowledge of the writer's thought processes that we generally don't have. What looks like lazy writing might just be the best a hard-working writer could produce, or a slip that happened to get missed, nobody being perfect. There may be works egregious enough in their internal contradictions and failure to make sense that are exceptions, but on the whole I think that 'lazy' or 'sloppy' are guesses masquerading as knowledge, which is seldom wise.
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Mar 26, 2011 at 01:22 PM
I don't have much intelligent to say, but wanted to point you in the direction of a critique of the Evangelical Christian embrace of the Twilight books:
“Why Are You Apologizing for Bleeding?” Confronting the Evangelical Embrace of Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight Saga
That was fascinating. Thanks for posting. I can't believe I never knew about this journal.
Posted by: Kristin | Mar 26, 2011 at 01:28 PM
Okay, I am going to stand by my comment I challenge you to write a better book. because I am specifically speaking to people who deride and dismiss the efforts of others. I didn't say "write a popular book" nor did I say "get a book published." I simply think that anyone who "mocks" other writers should have at least once in their life the experience of putting their own work out on the line.
I don't think that you have to be a good writer to be a good critic but I think that everyone who wants to be a critic should have the experience of hearing/reading others deconstruct one's own work.
I have spent hours working over a line that Kit then rewrites (and improves) in a few minutes. I hope that that experience informs my judgment when I write reviews.
In other words, I am not suggesting that to criticize a book one needs to successfully write one, I am suggesting that many people who easily toss off comments such as "silly", "sloppy", and "lazy" are speaking from a position of ignorance.
To make an analogy (something I live to do) I play the clarinet very badly. Very badly indeed. I am bereft of talent in that area. Unlike Lady Catherine de Bourgh I do not think that if I bothered to practice I would be a great musician.
What my study of the clarinet did teach me was to
a) distinguish the really difficult stuff from the stuff that only sounds difficult
and
b) to appreciate the hard work of musicians that other people write off.
BTW -- may I just say that I appreciate the courage of the writers of these first The Slacktiverse articles.
Posted by: Mmy | Mar 26, 2011 at 01:28 PM
I certainly think that people shouldn't scoff at the effort required to write a book if they haven't done it. I also think that, "I can do better," is something that is often used when it is not true. That said, I do think that it should be acceptable to criticize even if one has not tried to do the same or could not do better.
As someone I know elsewhere has said, "I haven't got a clue how to design or make an internal combustion engine, but if someone designed one that ran by burning kittens, I'd be perfectly entitled to criticise it."
Another thing I want to point out, which is as unrelated to Twilight as the above quote, is that sometimes someone saying, "I can do better," is entirely correct, but they have good reason not to do better. Better isn't remotely the same as good. Better might not meet their own standards.
It is entirely possible to think, "I could write a better book than this piece of crap," while still believing, "If I wrote a book it would be terrible." It is even possible for someone to be correct about both of them. I have some trouble believing that it would apply to something like Twilight because, as has been pointed out, it likely would not be such a success across a broad range of demographics with access to a variety of other works if it were not doing multiple things quite right.
-
I know this has already been addressed to at least some extent.
-
I've been without an internet connection for the past few days, it's good to read you all again.
Posted by: chris the cynic | Mar 26, 2011 at 01:51 PM
Well, yes. Admittedly, I've not read the books, only about the books, but it seems pretty likely to me that Bella's behavior is a response to her total lack of any means to escape--she is expected to spend her life as her father's scullery maid until she gets married, and then she'll become her husband's scullery maid.
In that respect these books depress the hell out of me, because they suggest a large population of women so beaten down they can't even fantasize about being anything other than a housewife--the closest they can get is fantasizing about being in a family that needs no cooking and little cleaning.
On Guess Culture: That's almost verbatim the classic description of passive-aggressive behavior, while "Ask Culture" is almost verbatim the classic description of assertive behavior.
Posted by: Froborr | Mar 26, 2011 at 02:01 PM
@ Kit: Seriously - if you're not a woman, it's really not a good idea to make pronouncements on what women are like.
Yeah, definitely, but I have trouble with generalizing pronouncements about what women are like even when they come from women.
Posted by: Kristin | Mar 26, 2011 at 02:04 PM
@Kristin: I have trouble with generalizing pronouncements about what women are like even when they come from women.
QFT
Or, to put it another say:
Making totalizing, essentialist statements about a group of which one is a member -- not cool.
Making totalizing, essentialist statements about a group of which one is not a member -- unacceptable, wrong, flame-bait.
Posted by: Mmy | Mar 26, 2011 at 02:20 PM
@ mmy: You know, I appreciate that you clarified your position because my reaction was similar to Ruby's when I first saw your comment. But I often felt that way about undergraduate critics I was teaching. My favorite line--and the most common one in philosophy--is: "Why did this have to go on and on? The author could've said everything that needed to be said in about two pages, but *we* had to read the whole book." I hate that. And it's usually people who turn in crap papers.
But I'll admit to mocking the Twilight books more than a couple of times. About your challenge to write a better book, I *have* often thought, "Clearly, this woman is not a genius or creator of great art. *How* then did she manage make that much money as a writer?" I do this because I really don't understand the zeitgeist. I too find the books insufferably dull. And melodramatic and overwrought...
But my main criticism of what you said is that, well, we don't all have the same access to free time. Most of us simply don't have time to write a book. If my only responsibility in life was to write a book better than Twilight, I could probably do it. I don't know Stephanie Meyer's story--maybe she did it when she was broke, like J.K. Rowling. But when you have a serious medical problem that involves chronic pain, you also don't have the energy to write into the late night. You're so exhausted from doing the work you get paid for. I understand the justifications for your comment, and my main qualm has to do with the charge of writing a better book. It's not that easy. And class has a lot to do with that, but I don't think this means we shouldn't critique. Also, I spoke a bit of the people in my grad department who insisted that we always provide the "charitable reading" of philosophical text. "Well, why don't you try to write a better book" makes me feel like critique isn't welcome. And I think critique is *really important.* So, I'm with Ruby on this.
But I also agree with Kit that it's not a very interesting criticism. I mean, where do you go with it? "Yes, her dialogue is a bit stilted. And...?" There are clearly much more important things to consider about the books, but I don't see a problem with disparaging comments about the writing.
Posted by: Kristin | Mar 26, 2011 at 02:34 PM
It's not just girls. I'm a male and have had this exact same problem: trying to hide everything from everyone, whether that made sense or not. It's caused by growing up next to very dominant people, so the only way you can have a life of your own is by hiding it.
On the good side, lying and hiding means that you are still trying to live, that you aren't completely broken. Maybe that's the appeal of these books: oppressed and abused people like to read another oppressed and abused person succeeding nonetheless.
Posted by: Krimin | Mar 26, 2011 at 02:40 PM
@Kristin: But my main criticism of what you said is that, well, we don't all have the same access to free time. Most of us simply don't have time to write a book.
Well, most of the people I am talking about have never seriously tried to write a better chapter, page or paragraph. It doesn't have to be a book, it is the effort.
Case in point -- in an undergraduate class I had to learn how to edit a piece of film. Everyone got the same stock of film and was supposed to edit it into a 30 sec. clip to be used by the tourism bureau of the city where it was shot. We were given the time, the resources and the equipment and all the work was done in the lab provided by the college. [It was a fascinating exercise.]
Decades later I had a number of students who claimed that the stuff on the colleges internal cable channel was "silly" "stupid" and that they could do much better. So we gave them access to cameras and editing equipment and credited the time they spent on it towards the course. Most of the students came back still disliking the stuff on the college channel but amazed at how much work it took just to produce anything that didn't look totally amateur.
And most of them decided that they didn't have the time or interest to do more. However at the end of that exercise they knew the difference between disliking the content (why are you doing a puff piece about the annual rope pull?) and deriding the technique.
Posted by: Mmy | Mar 26, 2011 at 02:51 PM
Kristin: But my main criticism of what you said is that, well, we don't all have the same access to free time. Most of us simply don't have time to write a book. If my only responsibility in life was to write a book better than Twilight, I could probably do it. I don't know Stephanie Meyer's story--maybe she did it when she was broke, like J.K. Rowling. But when you have a serious medical problem that involves chronic pain, you also don't have the energy to write into the late night. You're so exhausted from doing the work you get paid for. I understand the justifications for your comment, and my main qualm has to do with the charge of writing a better book. It's not that easy. And class has a lot to do with that, but I don't think this means we shouldn't critique. Also, I spoke a bit of the people in my grad department who insisted that we always provide the "charitable reading" of philosophical text. "Well, why don't you try to write a better book" makes me feel like critique isn't welcome. And I think critique is *really important.* So, I'm with Ruby on this.
Yes. As others have mentioned, there is a particular twitch about this one (and I definitely have it), because of the associations with very similar conversations:
"I don't think soldiers should be required to attend Christian concerts."
"Oh yeah? WHERE DID YOU SERVE???"
Now, I think the specific, personal criticisms of author laziness or whatever are not fair (and probably can't be known anyway), but those unfair criticisms could just as easily come from a published author.
As for Meyer in particular, I feel quite free to criticize her writing and her characters, as she has shown herself perfectly willing to favorably compare her characters with other characters...
http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/nm_thestory.html
Heck, we enjoy Fred's critiques, and he has certainly "gotten personal" with the authors--which character is which author's avatar, etc. (Which makes me wonder if L&J have ever read Fred's critiques. Hmmm...)
Posted by: Ruby | Mar 26, 2011 at 02:59 PM
It is entirely possible to think, "I could write a better book than this piece of crap," while still believing, "If I wrote a book it would be terrible." It is even possible for someone to be correct about both of them.
If someone thinks they can write a better book but have never tried and don't try, then they're very unlikely to be correct. Take it from one who has read slush piles: Twilight has its faults, but it is far, far, far better than the average submission.
And if someone hasn't written anything, what are they basing their assumption that they can do better on? It's like assuming you can sing better than someone when you've never heard your own voice: if you had any respect for or understanding of the discipline, you'd know that it's not about what you are or what you think: it's about what you produce, and absolutely nothing else. A person's ability to write only exists in their writing. Assumptions like that are based on the unconscious-incompetent premise: they assume they can do better because they don't know what doing better would involve.
Basically, I'd say it's a fair bet that someone who feels entitled to pronounce on what kind of writing they could produce based on anything other than an assessment of work they have already produced ... is not going to produce anything better than Stephenie Meyer.
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Mar 26, 2011 at 03:02 PM
I don't know Stephanie Meyer's story--maybe she did it when she was broke, like J.K. Rowling.
If I remember right, she wrote the first book with her baby on her lap. Which is a feat I certainly have never managed. I've managed Slacktiverse posts with him around, but fiction is beyond me. If it's true, I take off my hat.
As for Meyer in particular, I feel quite free to criticize her writing and her characters, as she has shown herself perfectly willing to favorably compare her characters with other characters...
I don't think the problem is really with criticising her writing. Mmy's objection, if I have this right, was to dismissing her as a writer with an off-hand comment like 'Meyer can't write.' Criticising specific elements of her writing would be fair enough whether she compared her characters with other people's or not.
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Mar 26, 2011 at 03:06 PM
Kit: I don't think the problem is really with criticising her writing. Mmy's objection, if I have this right, was to dismissing her as a writer with an off-hand comment like 'Meyer can't write.' Criticising specific elements of her writing would be fair enough whether she compared her characters with other people's or not.
Oh, I know. It's just that I feel particularly free in this case, given Meyer's statements. It takes a lot of moxie to compare your romantic hero with Gilbert Blythe. :D
Posted by: Ruby | Mar 26, 2011 at 03:19 PM
@ mmy: Well, most of the people I am talking about have never seriously tried to write a better chapter, page or paragraph. It doesn't have to be a book, it is the effort.
And I agree with you about this. I guess I'm just saying that it seems to me like you're conflating your undergraduates' critiques with some of the ones here. And that's what I see as the problem. I don't think the two can be compared.
Also, I obviously don't think you *actually* think criticism isn't welcome. But that one statement that you made *felt* a bit like some of the ones I heard used to dismiss graduate students and put us in our place. So, I see Ruby's point and agree with her.
But I don't have any problem with the general content of what you said. I feel much the same way. It's just... Well, "you go and write a better book" comes across to me as dismissive and doesn't really take several important things into account--like class, the availability of free time, the energy to get it done.
@ Kit: Yeah, wow, if she wrote the first book with a baby in her lap, that's pretty impressive. I wouldn't be able to do it either.
Posted by: Kristin | Mar 26, 2011 at 03:20 PM
I always feel terrible about "lazy writing" as a criticism for pulp / pop-culture books anyways since, for those of us who read Sci-Fi/Fantasy, even the "good" authors can be pretty lazy themselves at times. I mean, sure, it can be a valid criticism for people who read Real Literature Only or something, but can I really accuse Twilight of laziness when my favorite romance's main character is basically "alien as a human from another culture BUT LOOKS WEIRD?"*
Are our guilty pop-culture pleasures really any better than Twilight, or do we just not notice the flaws / let the flaws slide because the books are targeted at us (whoever we are) instead of teenage women? Is the fact that we notice this supposed "laziness" inspired by the fact that many of us already oppose the book on ideological grounds (especially when it comes to the portrayal of the relationship?)**
*On the other hand, I just realized that my favorite romance doesn't actually involve a person as the partner of the romance. Could it be misogynistic?! Stay tuned while I try to find my copy and re-read it to find out!
**getting paid to defend Twilight was one of the most entertaining things I have done for filthy lucre.
Posted by: Madhabmatics | Mar 26, 2011 at 03:26 PM
Basically, I'd say it's a fair bet that someone who feels entitled to pronounce on what kind of writing they could produce based on anything other than an assessment of work they have already produced ... is not going to produce anything better than Stephenie Meyer.
But why is the assumption that we've never tried? And that we have no experience? Again, we're not 18 year old students encountering college courses for the first time, and I guess that's what I find confusing about this discussion. That the assumption is that we haven't tried, or haven't already done it.
Posted by: Kristin | Mar 26, 2011 at 03:31 PM
In that case, I don't see that it makes any difference how skilled the critic is as a writer; they still don't get to dismiss other writers for having inferior skills.
Posted by: Bennett Standeven | Mar 26, 2011 at 03:32 PM
But why is the assumption that we've never tried?
Because I thought those were the terms of the theoretical scenario. If not, never mind. :-)
I would say, though, that the experience of writing a novel is not like writing a paragraph, or a short story. It's a feat of time and memory that places different demands on you.
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Mar 26, 2011 at 03:37 PM
"If you don't like this, why don't you go write something better" is triggering to me because it's what people say when I complain about, for instance, something casually misogynistic or dismissive in a book. "Lighten up! It's just one word choice! Writing a book is hard! It's not easy to say exactly the right thing all the time! You're being mean and it's not like you could write something perfect, either." Not that anyone here has been saying that, but I just wanted to point it out.
WHAT IF... What if true love left you? Not some ordinary high school romance, not some random jock boyfriend, not anyone at all replaceable. True love. The real deal. Your other half, your true soul's match. What happens if he leaves?
The answer is different for everyone. Juliet had her version, Marianne Dashwood had hers, Isolde and Catherine Earnshaw and Scarlett O'Hara and Anne Shirley all had their ways of coping.
I had to answer the question for Bella. What does Bella Swan do when true love leaves her? Not just true love, but Edward Cullen! None of those other heroines lost an Edward (Romeo was a hothead, Willoughby was a scoundrel, Tristan had loyalty issues, Heathcliff was pure evil, Rhett had a mean streak and cheated with hookers, and sweet Gilbert was much more of a Jacob than an Edward). So what happens when True Love in the form of Edward Cullen leaves Bella?
One of the things that annoys me the most about the majority of twilight criticism is the way it takes Meyer at her word by assuming that Edward is, indeed, the Best and Most Sexiest Man Possible. For instance, The Oatmeal--which I usually think is funny--says "Imagine everything women want in a man, then exaggerate it by ten thousand - and you've got Edward Cullen. ... What the author has done is created a perfect male figure - a pale Greek statue which the reader can worship and in turn be worshipped by." Right, because all women want a controlling, overly critical man who literally wants to eat you and who you're always terrified will leave you. People criticize the books for being shallow, and at the same time affirm that all women are shallow ("At least Stephenie Meyer knows her audience.")
Posted by: Lunch Meat | Mar 26, 2011 at 03:38 PM
I would say, though, that the experience of writing a novel is not like writing a paragraph, or a short story. It's a feat of time and memory that places different demands on you.
Different from writing a thesis or dissertation? A collection of essays? (Just asking, I don't know.) We've been throwing the term "book" around all this time when I think we mean "novel" as you say.
Posted by: Kristin | Mar 26, 2011 at 03:42 PM
It's just that I feel particularly free in this case, given Meyer's statements.
I think I feel less comfortable making criticisms of her work in the context of her statements. Yes, they were incautious and ill-advised, but to me, it makes it feel more like criticising the person and less like criticising the book - or at least, criticising the book to express disapproval of the person. And I don't want to do that. I've got nothing against Stephenie Meyer; she just wrote a book I don't happen to like, which is hardly a crime. I feel more comfortable sticking to justifications that have to do with general principles rather than personal issues.
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Mar 26, 2011 at 03:45 PM
Different from writing a thesis or dissertation? A collection of essays? (Just asking, I don't know.) We've been throwing the term "book" around all this time when I think we mean "novel" as you say.
Completely and totally different. Fiction and non-fiction are two different art forms.
If nothing else, a novel involves facing nothingness. A thesis, a dissertation or an essay always has a subject; you choose things to say about that subject, but there's something to build on that's external to your own mind. With a novel, there's nothing there at all. Just some reams of blank pages: 'boxes and boxes of silence', as they say in City of Angels. I've written dissertations and essays as well as novels; compared with the terror of fiction, essays are a light warm-down.
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Mar 26, 2011 at 03:49 PM
If nothing else, a novel involves facing nothingness.
Good point.
Posted by: Kristin | Mar 26, 2011 at 03:54 PM
People criticize the books for being shallow, and at the same time affirm that all women are shallow ("At least Stephenie Meyer knows her audience.")
But are all women actually her audience? I think tweens are her main demographic, though of course we all know a handful of adult women who love the books too.
I *do* think that 13 year olds with limited exposure to art and literature will have different tastes than most adults. I also think tween girls in particular have a tendency to skew the vote on American Idol to the Less Talented All-American-Looking Cute Boy. But I don't think they're *shallow* as people. I think, "Hmm, that's where I was at 13, pretty much."
And I don't think that criticizing the books is tantamount to criticizing the people who read them.
On not being sophisticated critics as young teens... My sister reminded me today that I *loved* this terrible horrible song when I was 14:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YZpUUrEWnWQ
And not only did I enjoy it, but I felt sufficiently compelled by it to *buy the CD.*
Posted by: Kristin | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:05 PM
*slams head repeatedly against wall*
Romeo. And. Juliet. Barely. Knew. Each. Other. It. Was. A. Satire!
ARGHLBLARGHLSHARGLEFROOM!
*runs off screaming*
Posted by: Froborr | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:10 PM
@ Frobarr: Yeah, I was right there with you.
Posted by: Kristin | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:12 PM
I agree that criticizing books is not the same as criticizing people who read them, but a lot of (especially male) critics seem to think that Edward is the Sexiest Man Ever and all women secretly want him, even if they won't admit it. Even the people who dismiss the books as a fantasy or guilty pleasure seem to think that Edward is or should be every woman's fantasy, that if we would stop trying to be so serious and practical and man-like, we would realize that at heart, what we really want, our truest, purest fantasy, is to be stalked and dominated. That's just the implication I get; maybe I'm reading too much into it...Does anyone else see the same thing?
Posted by: Lunch Meat | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:12 PM
It's interesting to me to go back and watch TV shows I used to love, old cartoons in particular. For example, Darkwing Duck? Rewatched it a couple of years ago, it's boring. On the other hand, Ducktales? Awesomely fun and entertaining--but jarringly libertarian and occasionally racist.
I also used to like Star Wars and Star Trek quite a lot, then in my late teens and early twenties I stopped liking them, and actually described them as something I liked when I was twelve. I've recently had occasion to rewatch parts of both, and Star Wars is still terrible, but now I like Star Trek again.
Posted by: Froborr | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:15 PM
Does anyone else see the same thing?
Yes. I mean, I think that was basically the argument of the post. And it's why I have so many problems with the books.
Suzanne Collins is not a great writer, but I was highly entertained by The Hunger Games trilogy. My thought process goes more like this: "The Twilight books are sexist, blah blah blah... *And* she doesn't even write well."
Posted by: Kristin | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:16 PM
I agree that "I can do better" is a claim that needs to be backed up, or not made.
OTOH, for a regular consumer of fiction to criticize someone's writing as bad writing does not in itself imply "I can do better" but rather "A hundred other writers have already done better." This is fair, particularly when the author in question has favorably compared her work to that of her famous predecessors.
"You may scold a carpenter who has made you a bad table, though you cannot make a table. It is not your trade to make tables." --Samuel Johnson (who was speaking of claiming the right to criticize a bad drama even though he could not write a better one)
Posted by: Lila | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:19 PM
I'm not criticizing the books (there's plenty of criticism of the books); I'm criticizing a lot of the critics.
Posted by: Lunch Meat | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:20 PM
People criticize the books for being shallow, and at the same time affirm that all women are shallow ("At least Stephenie Meyer knows her audience.")
That strikes me as rooted in the fallacy that mass market fiction is work that's somehow cynically crafted to appeal to a projected demographic, as if the plot was worked out like an ad campaign. Which is generally nonsense. The mass market books that sell well are like any other published book: they were written by someone doing their best to write a book they felt moved to write, and it happened to come out as a mass-market style book that a lot of people liked.
Writing fiction is not like building a better mousetrap.
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:24 PM
My understanding was that mmy's challenge was to do it. Not try to do it. To do it. Write 90 thousand words of 100 thousand word novel that's definitely better so far, in spite of being a mere unrevised first draft, but then be forced to stop because [insert a good reason here, I'd prefer something involving an octopus] and that doesn't count.
It wasn't, "For those who enjoy scoffing at Meyer's writing ability I challenge you to try to write a better book," it was, "For those who enjoy scoffing at Meyer's writing ability I challenge you to write a better book."
-
I think that I feel somewhat more comfortable criticizing something when I know what it is supposed to be. I haven't read Twilight, so I won't be criticizing it, but if I had I and I were going to offer criticism I think that knowing what Edward was supposed to be would help.
I can't talk meaningfully about Twilight, so Left Behind will have to do.
The books would still be awful for unrelated reasons, but most of my criticisms of the handling of the character of God in Left Behind would disappear if L&J had intended the character to be a complete monster. If Jenkins had a quote where he compared God to various villains finally concluding that none of them were as bad as God, and the impression that was given was that we were supposed to hate him ... well then I'd have some praise for Jerry Jenkins, because he does a good job of making his God a monster in the books, even going so far as to make those who support him seem inhuman while making those he hurts some of the most memorable sympathetic characters in the story.
Posted by: chris the cynic | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:27 PM
The basic concept is that in some cultures or families, 'it's OK to ask for anything at all, but you gotta realize you might get no for an answer. This is Ask Culture.' On the other hand, 'In Guess Culture, you avoid putting a request into words unless you're pretty sure the answer will be yes. Guess Culture depends on a tight net of shared expectations. A key skill is putting out delicate feelers. If you do this with enough subtlety, you won't even have to make the request directly; you'll get an offer. Even then, the offer may be genuine or pro forma; it takes yet more skill and delicacy to discern whether you should accept.'
And now I'm thrilled to have done a Slacktiverse guest post, because I'm pretty sure you just preemptively saved my marriage with that framing, Kit. :D
Melodrama aside, I never had a term for it before, but I guess that "Guess Culture" would describe my family to a T, from what I think you're describing there. We almost never ask for a favor outright unless we're already sure the answer will be "yes" - if we don't know if the answer will be yes, we'll just state a problem ("My car broke down, I guess I'll have to call a tow.") and it's up to the other person to jump in and make an offer of alleviation ("Oh, no, don't do that - I'll come pick you up.")
My husband's family, on the other hand, must be an "Ask Culture" because they have no problems asking outright ("My car broke down - will you come get me?") and apparently no problems with being told "no" if the other person can't/won't.
The problem, of course, is that the Guess people - myself in this situation - is (a) shocked by the rudeness of outright asking for something (rather than 'politely' crafting an opening and leaving it to the other person to make an offer) and (b) very likely to get 'run over' a bit in this situation since a Guess person has been taught that the ONLY time someone asks outright for something, it must be an urgent enough situation to warrant the request, so of course you must say 'yes'.
Very interesting! :D
---
Re: Bad writing and doing better, I've been an Amazon Breakthrough Award Novel judge for two years now. Basically, my job is to read through 40 "new novel excerpts" (usually the first 2-4 chapters in the novel) and rate them on a scale of 1-5 according to various criteria.
After the first year of judging, I decided to write 2-4 chapters on my own to see what the novelists had gone through. I was actually pretty shocked at how hard it was and how NOT Incredibly Brilliant and Stellar my own writing was. Of course, I accepted the judging position again this year, so obviously I think that "not being able to do better" isn't a prerequisite for judging material, but I DO refrain from saying "I could do better" because I'm no longer 100% certain that I can, ha.
Posted by: anamardoll | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:35 PM
OTOH, for a regular consumer of fiction to criticize someone's writing as bad writing does not in itself imply "I can do better" but rather "A hundred other writers have already done better." This is fair, particularly when the author in question has favorably compared her work to that of her famous predecessors.
Well, yeah. This is mostly where I was coming from. But when pushed (I feel like the words were kinda put in my mouth: "Oh, yeah? You could do better? Then write one." Well, I didn't say I had an interest in doing that. But when pressed, I said, yeah, probably, if I had free time and fewer health problems. But that wasn't really what I was getting at--it's mostly that I don't personally understand their appeal. That said, I've never liked writing fiction. Never been great at it. Mostly, though, I think that based on being a well-read and reasonably intelligent person who writes anything at all, it's valid to point out that her writing is not very good.
Posted by: Kristin | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:35 PM
I think that knowing what Edward was supposed to be would help
The word most often used about him is 'perfect'. He's described in great physical detail, largely in fairly conventional terms - he looks like a model, like an actor, like a movie star. He's extravagantly devoted to Bella and ferociously attracted to her, but determined never to consummate their relationship either through sex or vamping because he's concerned about hurting her. He's psychic; Bella's mind is the only mind he can't read, and he tends to read the minds of those around her to keep an eye on her and intervene if she's in danger.
Basically if we take him at the book's estimation he's extraordinarily handsome, deeply passionate but absolutely self-sacrificing and controlled for the sake of protecting his love.
Criticisms of him tend to revolve around the fact that he considers himself entitled to violate Bella's space (climbing into her bedroom and watching her sleep, for instance), that he's controlling in the way he 'protects' Bella, both from others and from himself, and that in general he comes across more as an abuser-stalker type than a good boyfriend.
Which side you land on depends largely on how much you take books on their own estimation and how much you accept or reject patriarchal gender roles.
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:35 PM
@Kristin: And I agree with you about this. I guess I'm just saying that it seems to me like you're conflating your undergraduates' critiques with some of the ones here. And that's what I see as the problem. I don't think the two can be compared.
Nope, not conflating. In fact my first comments were made in response to things people had written on this thread. For example:
I brought in the undergraduates I graded for the same reason (I presume) that Kit brought up reading slush piles -- it gave me an stunning insight into how much better Meyer's writing is than of many other people.
Also, I study pop culture. It is my area of research. I am sitting right now in a room full of books / movies that critics like to dismiss. On top of that I spend an inordinate amount of time reading boards devoted to praising and criticizing authors like Meyer. I judge the critics ability to write on the very comments they posted in order to criticize Meyer.
I have colleagues who have studied the "Meyer Phenomenon", written academic papers on it and also just damn well love the books. They con't consider them "high literature" but that doesn't mean they don't read the books, talk about the books and even (honest to FSM) dress up as their favourite character and go the the movie premieres. Every one of the a PhD.
So the world of people 'criticizing pop culture' is right now my corner of the academic universe. And I have heard far too many people (whose essays, books and dissertations I have had to wade through) blither on about how much better "they" could have done it.
Also, I obviously don't think you *actually* think criticism isn't welcome. But that one statement that you made *felt* a bit like some of the ones I heard used to dismiss graduate students and put us in our place. So, I see Ruby's point and agree with her.
Kristin, if you are referring to "try to do it yourself" I actually find your response rather silencing--of me that is. I too, you know, was at one time a graduate student.
Suzanne Collins is not a great writer, but I was highly entertained by The Hunger Games trilogy. My thought process goes more like this: "The Twilight books are sexist, blah blah blah... *And* she doesn't even write well."
This is one of those YMMV things about reading/writing. I have read both Collins and Meyer and if I had to spend 5 hours sitting in a waiting room rereading one of their books I would pick Meyer every day.
Posted by: Mmy | Mar 26, 2011 at 04:52 PM
I have read both Collins and Meyer and if I had to spend 5 hours sitting in a waiting room rereading one of their books I would pick Meyer every day.
I haven't read Collins, but out of interest, what about Meyer's books would recommend themselves to you in that situation?
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Mar 26, 2011 at 05:01 PM
This is one of those YMMV things about reading/writing. I have read both Collins and Meyer and if I had to spend 5 hours sitting in a waiting room rereading one of their books I would pick Meyer every day.
That's very interesting. I'm sorta curious why?
Didn't realize literary criticism was your field.
I thought that your charge to write a better book was directed toward me, and while I caught the bit about the books being "silly," I must have missed the other one you quoted.
I apologize for making you feel silenced. I should probably actually step back because it just occurred to me that it isn't just about grad school. That sentence: "Yeah? Well, you do a better job then"--that's my dad's favorite line. If I want to talk about our family dysfunction, he gets offended and says, "Oh, yeah? Well, let's see how well you do if you become a parent." If I question his financial wisdom (when it's being imposed on me) 'cause he led our family into bankruptcy:"Oh, really? Because you're so well-off financially, is that it?" That's *always* his response when challenged. I think I had an emotional response to it that isn't really about what you're actually saying, mmy, but my sort of conditioning that it's *always* meant to hurt people. Which is not an excuse. It's my responsibility to control my triggers. And it didn't even occur to me what had happened until I saw your most recent comments. Apologies.
Posted by: Kristin | Mar 26, 2011 at 05:07 PM
A thesis, a dissertation or an essay always has a subject; you choose things to say about that subject, but there's something to build on that's external to your own mind.
I guess this is true, but the fact that I could never, ever feel it, is probably a big part of the reason I never finished my thesis. (My academic advisor had a quote on his door: "Good writing is the expression of clear thinking." Indeed. Bah. Stupid brain.)
Posted by: Lonespark | Mar 26, 2011 at 05:29 PM
In that respect these books depress the hell out of me, because they suggest a large population of women so beaten down they can't even fantasize about being anything other than a housewife--the closest they can get is fantasizing about being in a family that needs no cooking and little cleaning.
Froborr, that's a really interesting way to frame it, and I hadn't looked at it that way before, thank you. It's true that Bella ends up a housewife, but in the "best" possible sense; there's no cooking, very little cleaning (and when you're super strong and super fast, how long will it take to wash the windows, really?), the child raising duties are fairly light, and you and your sexy husband will be gorgeous and sparkly for eternity.
I imagine laundry is a pain, though, after all the hunts.
Perhaps it's less that they "can't" imagine any thing better and more that a fantasy is more attractive if it's close to home. For instance, I can (and do) imagine myself a world-class ballerina at times, but since I have a medical issue that makes that absolutely impossible, I'm more likely to revel in dreams of being a world famous author - it's more... attainable.
Which isn't to suggest that vampirism is attainable, but that being strong and sexy and skinny and largely free from house-work while still nominally filling the same role may be closer to home for a lot of women than, say, imaging themselves in some other field entirely. Still, it is a little sad to me overall, as you say.
---
Ruby, moxie-wise, my rage moment with the series is when Bella mentions that her paper is on "Whether Shakespeare’s treatment of the female characters is misogynistic." LOL. It's not a bad question to ask by any means, but it's just thrown out there like OH HAI I'M A FEMINIST.
Jane Austen gets name dropped in the text too, as well as a reminder that there's an "Edward" in "Sense and Sensibility". Oh, I see what you did there S.Meyer, ha. :D
Posted by: anamardoll | Mar 26, 2011 at 05:37 PM
@Kristen: I think I had an emotional response to it that isn't really about what you're actually saying, mmy, but my sort of conditioning
Thanks for taking the time to explain where you were coming from.
Cyber-handshake?
Didn't realize literary criticism was your field
I actually don't do literary criticism (though I have to read a lot of it) except in the sense that literary criticism is itself greatly implicated by issues of class, gender and race. Literary criticism is a form of the reproduction of culture and the important (to TPTB) delimitations of high, middle and lowbrow cultures. What I am principally involved in is (hmmm, there really isn't a short name for what we do) -- looking at the way in which popular culture both reflects and has an impact on political socialization*, looking specifically at issues of misogyny, racism and classism.
This is an interesting interdisciplinary area where political theory, political psychology and critical studies meet together.
*political socialization in the sense of the way people are taught to understand the workings of their own society and their places within it.
@Kit Whitfield: I haven't read Collins, but out of interest, what about Meyer's books would recommend themselves to you in that situation [spend 5 hours sitting in a waiting room rereading one of their books?]
I was thinking here of the different ways in which one experiences a book when reading it for the first time and when rereading it.
Meyer's books don't really have complicated plots and so one can experience them as another person's day dreams into which one has wandered.
Collins books start out as very interesting examples of worldbuilding -- but once that world has been built I found that almost every thing that happened in it was predictable. I actually experienced the second book Catching Fire as a REREAD when I first read it because almost everything played out exactly as I expected. Katniss [Collins' protagonist] felt like a paint-by-numbers anti-Bella if anything.
I also experience less cognitive dissonance with Meyer than Collins. I read Meyer's work as the fever dreams of an imaginative Mormon and so am not surprised that she somehow manages to find a "within book" reason for Bella not to have a caffeinated drink. Having been an imaginative teenager who had daydreams that twisted logic, order and experience in order to have everything play out as emotionally required -- I "get" what Meyer is doing there.
Collins' Katniss seems a more intellectually deliberate creation on the part of Collins and one who strikes me as an example of a negative mirror [she is a creation of a number of "she is unlike [fill in the blank]" rather than "she is." And given what the reader finds out about Katniss in the first book she should have been able to predict, just as well as I, what would happen the following year.
Posted by: Mmy | Mar 26, 2011 at 05:47 PM
anamardoll: Ruby, moxie-wise, my rage moment with the series is when Bella mentions that her paper is on "Whether Shakespeare’s treatment of the female characters is misogynistic." LOL. It's not a bad question to ask by any means, but it's just thrown out there like OH HAI I'M A FEMINIST.
Jane Austen gets name dropped in the text too, as well as a reminder that there's an "Edward" in "Sense and Sensibility". Oh, I see what you did there S.Meyer, ha. :D
I am re-confused every time I read that comment. Not only does she do the thing of making Romeo and Juliet into Teh Greatest Love Story of All Time ZOMG, she uses Willoughby as her example from Sense and Sensibility. Shouldn't she be using Edward or Brandon?
Posted by: Ruby | Mar 26, 2011 at 06:02 PM
@Lonespark:
I guess this is true, but the fact that I could never, ever feel it,
Have you heard about Pavlov's dogs? I have a similarly automatic response to anything that strays near to the area of my PhD dissertation. I lived, breathed and dreamed about it for the years it took to research and write. The data sets were my constant companions, I can still present the case studies without looking at notes and I think the tables of logistic regressions are a thing of beauty.
I don't expect anyone else to feel that way, but to me my dissertation was a love affair with a body of knowledge.
Posted by: Mmy | Mar 26, 2011 at 06:04 PM
Froborr said: "It's interesting to me to go back and watch TV shows I used to love, old cartoons in particular."
I got to re-watch the whole series of Due South -- which I had loved when it aired in my teens -- in the last couple years. To my delight, it is at least as good now as it was then, and sometimes better, although its technology now looks somewhat old. This probably explains why of all the things I watched, it was the one my parents disliked least.
I've thought for years now, that certain works belong to certain moods or ages for the viewer -- that's it's not so much about good or bad art, as the viewer being in the right emotional place for the message of this art to hit home. After all, art that can't speak effectively to *you* is effectively bad art for *you* at that point in time, regardless of what it is like for other people and other times.
Posted by: Bronwyn | Mar 26, 2011 at 06:04 PM
@Ruby: she uses Willoughby as her example from Sense and Sensibility. Shouldn't she be using Edward or Brandon?
The "interesting" thing about Meyer mentioning Sense & Sensibility in the text of Twilight [as one of Bella's favourite books if I remember correctly] is that Bella very much reflects the type of sensibility that Marianne embodies in S&S. It is perhaps telling that Meyer names Willoughby as the "romantic hero" of the novel since he is, to some degree, a villain.
hmmm....anyone think it would be *interesting* to read Austen's take on Twilight?
Posted by: Mmy | Mar 26, 2011 at 06:11 PM
@ mmy: Sure, cyber handshake. Thanks for understanding.
Collins' Katniss seems a more intellectually deliberate creation on the part of Collins and one who strikes me as an example of a negative mirror [she is a creation of a number of "she is unlike [fill in the blank]" rather than "she is." And given what the reader finds out about Katniss in the first book she should have been able to predict, just as well as I, what would happen the following year.
I completely agree with this--and with your general criticisms of the stories. And I would never want to reread them. But I kinda enjoyed them the first time around. I think my major problem with the books is that Collins seems to think she's making a Very Deep Political Statement. I thought that fell flat, but I continued to see her giving interviews and mentioning topics like "child soldiers" and "the ravages of war"--as if she spoke very profoundly about these topics in the books. And I don't think she did. When I *tried* to read the books that way, I got annoyed and felt I was wasting my time. It felt like preaching.
I'm allergic to romance books. I was never going to like Twilight. The energy expended on the love triangle in The Hunger Games annoyed me immensely. As did the fact that the two suitors were (1) an incompetent jokester and (2) a brooding jackass. I'm tired of love triangles (Although, isn't the one in Fringe kinda awesome? With the two versions of Olivia...).
I can't entirely explain why I found the books so addictive, and I'm a little embarrassed by it. Yes, I did find them predictable as you say. I wouldn't call them good literature... They're the first popular books I've enjoyed in a very long time, and... Hmm... I liked the fact that Katniss was kind of a badass, and it may not be any deeper than that. :) I liked the moral ambiguity of some of the characters, as I think that kind of thing always creates interesting conflicts. And finally, I remembered reading a lot of young adult books that I found patronizing when I was an adolescent. I guess I appreciated the fact that she takes up such dark subject matter. Oh, and I liked her alcoholic mentor (whose name I've already forgotten).
Posted by: Kristin | Mar 26, 2011 at 06:50 PM
On going back and watching old things we used to love:
*Back to the Future--"The Libyans!" Wow... I think I remembered thinking that was a little off even back then.
*Ghostbusters--Wow... First of all, I couldn't believe how many jokes had gone over my head at ages 4/5. And it was *really* unbearably sexist! My sister and I watched it together in disbelief, going, "I soo do not remember this."
*Swiss Family Robinson--White settlers killing off Brown Attackers. I've never gone back to watch this one again, but now I cannot *believe* that my parents gave us that one.
I never did love Gone with the Wind like seemingly everyone else... But I wasn't particularly offended by it either. Now I think it needs to be recognized as an achievement in film, but should also go on the shelf right beside Birth of a Nation...
Posted by: Kristin | Mar 26, 2011 at 07:00 PM
Speaking of critiques, Shameless Self-Promotion...the ending of Second Glance.
http://heathencritique.wordpress.com/2011/03/26/second-glance-part-3/
Now, on to more Soon.
/Shameless Self-Promotion
Posted by: Ruby | Mar 26, 2011 at 07:59 PM
Mmy, I'm doing things at work with a data set that I lived with for five years (as we stuffed that database). Now I'm pulling data out of it to use it in a different way (although it's one that it was actually intended for). It's interesting to see it working. (Or sometimes not working - that address is in the other direction; is that a typo or were they turned around?)
Posted by: P J Evans | Mar 26, 2011 at 08:01 PM