Chapter 9 is a continuation of the eighth chapter; Bella had been grilling Edward, now it's Edward's turn. He wants to know Bella's latest theory about his identity, but instead of her usual lame-brained superhero claptrap, she pulls out the vampire card. She claims that she doesn't buy it - after all, her exhaustive research on Google proved insufficient. But she also tells Edward that "it doesn't matter to me what you are." Slightly shocking for those of us who don't read between the lines, but we know that what she really means is that she doesn't care because he's sculpted from pure marble. That doesn't stop her from asking how old he is. He's seventeen, of course... but he's been seventeen for a while. Naturally, Bella's only reaction is that she's "pleased that he was still being honest with me." It's one thing to drink blood, but for the love of God don't lie about it.
Side note - Edward's one vice is driving expensive cars fast. It's a breath of fresh air to know that somebody in Forks is capable of having a good time, unlike You-Know-Who.
The beautiful thing about dealing with mythological creatures is that you can invent your own rules if what is popularly accepted doesn't suit your whims. Critics can bloviate all they want about Twilight vampires not being "real" vampires but unless you're well-versed in European folklore, you don't know shit about a real vampire and oh yeah, last time I checked vampires aren't real anyway (if you really want a vampire powers/weaknesses primer, check out this chart. So of course Edward can walk in the daylight and doesn't sleep in a coffin, those are just silly myths. He doesn't sleep in a coffin because he doesn't sleep - he's Cameron! - and the daylight thing... well, we all know what happens to these vampires in the daylight. He does drink blood, though, but he sticks to animal blood.
The rest of their conversation is not untrod ground, and I doubt it'll be the last variation on this theme. Edward talks about how dangerous he is, Bella says she doesn't care, Edward repeats that he's dangerous but doesn't leave her alone, etc. A more gifted author, or at least one not trying to pander to a certain audience, could mine this material for something useful. Frankenstein isn't a classic story simply because it's a gothic monster tale but because the creature aspires to be more than an abomination while fully realizing that he's damned. It's possible that Edward will have a compelling explanation for why he desires Bella, but Bella's love for Edward will almost certainly be solely predicated by the fact that he's exotic and gorgeous.
Hence the final sentences of the chapter, after Bella arrives safely at home. "About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second there was part of him - and I didn't know how potent that part might be - that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him." He's James Dean with fangs, and he'll never be characterized deeper than that.
Friday, November 27, 2009
We interrupt our Twilight coverage to bring you more Twilight.
From the video geniuses at Black20, who also blessed us with Transforminators, Saw School Musical, and the PG version of 300.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Liveblogging Twilight: Chapter 8
After the previous chapter's plotless crapfest, it's only fair that we get a lot of activity in chapter 8. Bella and her loser "friends" go dress shopping for the Sadie Hawkins dance - Bella still intends on skipping, but somebody has to squeal about how cute one dress is and how another is so totally wrong, etc. They split up before dinner so Bella can check out a bookstore but of course she gets her dumb ass lost, and very nearly mugged/raped/murdered by some street toughs. Good thing Edward is there to save the day.
Yes, he's Bella's knight in sparkly armor, but right now he's too busy trying to keep from devouring her would-be attackers to be a proper Prince Charming. Fortunately he's got just what he needs to take his mind off of his bloodlust. "Just prattle about something unimportant until I calm down," he tells Bella, perhaps with more insight than Meyer had in mind.
Edward can't keep up such suspicious behavior without an explanation, so he takes her to dinner. The waitress treats him like she needs a change of panties, and all of a sudden it hits me: Edward is Jon Hamm. For those of you who watched 30 Rock last year, Edward is the equivalent of the doctor who coasts through life by virtue of his staggering good looks. For those of you who don't watch 30 Rock, take a gander at this magnificent hunk of beefcake:
Fred Phelps would go gay for this man.
This, meanwhile, is what Edward looks like in the Twilight movies:
Robert Pattinson looks like he does more cocaine than Kristen Stewart.
I suppose when it comes to the ideal man, tweenage girls and I don't see eye to eye. I think I should be pleased.
Before I delve into our future soul mates' conversation, I should note the following sentence: "Edward was shrugging out of his jacket." It's one of those syntactical choices that cause mental red flags to pop up everywhere, and it's not the only time Meyer uses this expression, either.
Edward gets down to brass tacks: he can read everyone's mind, but for some reason he can't read Bella's. He admits to stalking her but it's for her own good: "I've never tried to keep a specific person alive before, and it's much more troublesome than I would have believed. But that's probably just because it's you. Ordinary people seem to make it through the day without so many catastrophes." And he confesses that it was all he could do to keep from murdering the thugs she ran into. Not only does Bella take all of this information completely in stride, but she's more fascinated by him than ever before. The things you can get away with when (depending on what people find attractive) you have a jaw that's composed entirely of square angles or look like you haven't brushed your hair since the Clinton administration.
Yes, he's Bella's knight in sparkly armor, but right now he's too busy trying to keep from devouring her would-be attackers to be a proper Prince Charming. Fortunately he's got just what he needs to take his mind off of his bloodlust. "Just prattle about something unimportant until I calm down," he tells Bella, perhaps with more insight than Meyer had in mind.
Edward can't keep up such suspicious behavior without an explanation, so he takes her to dinner. The waitress treats him like she needs a change of panties, and all of a sudden it hits me: Edward is Jon Hamm. For those of you who watched 30 Rock last year, Edward is the equivalent of the doctor who coasts through life by virtue of his staggering good looks. For those of you who don't watch 30 Rock, take a gander at this magnificent hunk of beefcake:
Fred Phelps would go gay for this man.
This, meanwhile, is what Edward looks like in the Twilight movies:
Robert Pattinson looks like he does more cocaine than Kristen Stewart.
I suppose when it comes to the ideal man, tweenage girls and I don't see eye to eye. I think I should be pleased.
Before I delve into our future soul mates' conversation, I should note the following sentence: "Edward was shrugging out of his jacket." It's one of those syntactical choices that cause mental red flags to pop up everywhere, and it's not the only time Meyer uses this expression, either.
Edward gets down to brass tacks: he can read everyone's mind, but for some reason he can't read Bella's. He admits to stalking her but it's for her own good: "I've never tried to keep a specific person alive before, and it's much more troublesome than I would have believed. But that's probably just because it's you. Ordinary people seem to make it through the day without so many catastrophes." And he confesses that it was all he could do to keep from murdering the thugs she ran into. Not only does Bella take all of this information completely in stride, but she's more fascinated by him than ever before. The things you can get away with when (depending on what people find attractive) you have a jaw that's composed entirely of square angles or look like you haven't brushed your hair since the Clinton administration.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Sometimes I read actual literature: Nickel and Dimed
I picked up a free used copy of Barbara Ehrenreich's Nickel and Dimed and decided to give it a shot, since I don't like being seen reading Twilight in public.
For those of you who haven't taken Intro to Sociology in the past five years, Ehrenreich takes a break from being a journalist and goes "undercover" to see what life is like as a member of the working poor. Whether it's in a Twin Cities Wal-Mart or a restaurant in Key West, she abandons her upper-class privilege and guts out living on scant hourly salaries. Spoiler alert: she thinks wages are too low.
To my surprise, it's very lighthearted. That's not to say that it's a cheerful romp through the travails of the lower class, but Ehrenreich's voice and sense of humor keep the proceedings from being too depressing. A nonfiction book such as this lives and dies on how well you identify with the author, and Ehrenreich is a very likable protagonist. She's done her research on nationwide trends, too; anyone willing to dismiss her reports as anecdotal evidence would do well to check out her footnotes. Nickel and Dimed is dependently liberal but it's not a screed.
Nickel and Dimed was written and published during a period of American prosperity, in the sweet spot of the dot-com bubble. Ehrenreich continually describes a tight labor market and how the poor have vanished from the public consciousness. It's grimly amusing how times have changed.
There's no question that Nickel and Dimed works, but whether it holds up under scrutiny or not is debatable. Though it's now a staple of college classes, it's not as academically sound as, say, William Julius Wilson's When Work Disappears (which, incidentally, is also ten times as depressing). It's no secret that Ehrenreich resides on the left side of the political spectrum, but the casual reader doesn't realize how so. According to Very Reliable Source Wikipedia, she's involved with the Democratic Socialists of America and NORML. This information doesn't discredit her, of course, but it's valid to assume that in writing Nickel and Dimed, she found what she was looking for.
That's the assertion of Adam Shepard, anyway, who wrote Scratch Beginnings as a response. Some cursory research into his book - where he sets out to find work in Charleston, SC with $25 and nothing else - has made me interested in reading it, not that my bookshelf isn't crowded enough as it is. Ehrenreich found nothing but failure; he ended up with a car, an apartment, and some money in savings. Of course, he's fresh out of college whereas she's a woman in her fifties, and he seemed to be pretty biased going into his social experiment himself. Ehrenreich relied heavily on residential hotels for shelter, a far more costly choice than a long-term apartment lease. But her experiment requires her to take short-term housing, and her research shows that she's not the only one blowing money on week-by-week housing. Nonetheless, it's always good to stay skeptical, even when reading a lauded work like Nickel and Dimed. Ehrenreich has a new book out about the pitfalls of optimism, and I'd love to check it out if I ever have the time. Shitty books don't read themselves, you know.
For those of you who haven't taken Intro to Sociology in the past five years, Ehrenreich takes a break from being a journalist and goes "undercover" to see what life is like as a member of the working poor. Whether it's in a Twin Cities Wal-Mart or a restaurant in Key West, she abandons her upper-class privilege and guts out living on scant hourly salaries. Spoiler alert: she thinks wages are too low.
To my surprise, it's very lighthearted. That's not to say that it's a cheerful romp through the travails of the lower class, but Ehrenreich's voice and sense of humor keep the proceedings from being too depressing. A nonfiction book such as this lives and dies on how well you identify with the author, and Ehrenreich is a very likable protagonist. She's done her research on nationwide trends, too; anyone willing to dismiss her reports as anecdotal evidence would do well to check out her footnotes. Nickel and Dimed is dependently liberal but it's not a screed.
Nickel and Dimed was written and published during a period of American prosperity, in the sweet spot of the dot-com bubble. Ehrenreich continually describes a tight labor market and how the poor have vanished from the public consciousness. It's grimly amusing how times have changed.
There's no question that Nickel and Dimed works, but whether it holds up under scrutiny or not is debatable. Though it's now a staple of college classes, it's not as academically sound as, say, William Julius Wilson's When Work Disappears (which, incidentally, is also ten times as depressing). It's no secret that Ehrenreich resides on the left side of the political spectrum, but the casual reader doesn't realize how so. According to Very Reliable Source Wikipedia, she's involved with the Democratic Socialists of America and NORML. This information doesn't discredit her, of course, but it's valid to assume that in writing Nickel and Dimed, she found what she was looking for.
That's the assertion of Adam Shepard, anyway, who wrote Scratch Beginnings as a response. Some cursory research into his book - where he sets out to find work in Charleston, SC with $25 and nothing else - has made me interested in reading it, not that my bookshelf isn't crowded enough as it is. Ehrenreich found nothing but failure; he ended up with a car, an apartment, and some money in savings. Of course, he's fresh out of college whereas she's a woman in her fifties, and he seemed to be pretty biased going into his social experiment himself. Ehrenreich relied heavily on residential hotels for shelter, a far more costly choice than a long-term apartment lease. But her experiment requires her to take short-term housing, and her research shows that she's not the only one blowing money on week-by-week housing. Nonetheless, it's always good to stay skeptical, even when reading a lauded work like Nickel and Dimed. Ehrenreich has a new book out about the pitfalls of optimism, and I'd love to check it out if I ever have the time. Shitty books don't read themselves, you know.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Liveblogging Twilight: Chapter 7
Time to see what Bella Swan is up to this week in It's Always Surly in Forksadelphia.
As you may recall, Chapter 6 ended with a werewolf telling Bella that her hot frenemy is a vampire. She's having a hard time processing this information, naturally, and has a nightmare where Jacob turns into a wolf and attacks her and Edward comes to her rescue. Society can refine itself all it wants, but - and doubly so in the horror genre - sex will always equal death.
It also bears mentioning that there's a ridiculous sequence preceding Bella's dream where she tries to lose herself in music. Meyer doesn't tell us who the artist is, though, and doesn't even make one up, leading to sentences that are excruciating in their awkwardness.
The next day, Bella does some research on vampires, using the always reliable source The Internet. Frustrated by what she finds, she decides to go for a walk in the woods and... whatever.
I'm sorry, I don't feel like summarizing the rest of the chapter. It sucks. It really, really does.
Even people with no experience in creative writing has heard that it's better to show and not tell. Alas, Meyer is writing for a young audience using a first-person narrator, so all the reader gets is tell, tell, tell. The fact that Bella does all the telling makes it worse. Telling instead of showing isn't just the work of an unskilled author, it's also painfully boring. To make things worse, there are unbearable stretches where all of the sentences have "I" as the subject.
In summary, when Chapter 7 comes to a merciful end Bella is confused, sullen, and a pain in the ass. Same as it ever was.
As you may recall, Chapter 6 ended with a werewolf telling Bella that her hot frenemy is a vampire. She's having a hard time processing this information, naturally, and has a nightmare where Jacob turns into a wolf and attacks her and Edward comes to her rescue. Society can refine itself all it wants, but - and doubly so in the horror genre - sex will always equal death.
It also bears mentioning that there's a ridiculous sequence preceding Bella's dream where she tries to lose herself in music. Meyer doesn't tell us who the artist is, though, and doesn't even make one up, leading to sentences that are excruciating in their awkwardness.
The next day, Bella does some research on vampires, using the always reliable source The Internet. Frustrated by what she finds, she decides to go for a walk in the woods and... whatever.
I'm sorry, I don't feel like summarizing the rest of the chapter. It sucks. It really, really does.
Even people with no experience in creative writing has heard that it's better to show and not tell. Alas, Meyer is writing for a young audience using a first-person narrator, so all the reader gets is tell, tell, tell. The fact that Bella does all the telling makes it worse. Telling instead of showing isn't just the work of an unskilled author, it's also painfully boring. To make things worse, there are unbearable stretches where all of the sentences have "I" as the subject.
In summary, when Chapter 7 comes to a merciful end Bella is confused, sullen, and a pain in the ass. Same as it ever was.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Liveblogging Twilight: Chapter 6
It's a brand new world for Twilight's sixth chapter: the beginnings of Team Jacob.
Bella and her loser friends go to La Push for the day. Perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me, since I've been itching to visit the Pacific Northwest for a few years now, but Meyer's description of the coastline isn't half bad - dare I say evocative.
The kids from Forks are soon joined by some young Quileutes from the nearby reservation. One of them is a boy named Jacob. As in, this is how Meyer introduces him: "All I caught was that one of the girls was also named Jessica, and the boy who noticed me was named Jacob." The second time she mentions him: "three teenagers from the reservation perched around the circle, including the boy named Jacob." That's the thing about Meyer's oft-maligned writing, it's not bad per se, it just doesn't sound right. There's something oddly entertaining about the writing of ESL students; they know the language well enough but their sentences verge on idiosyncratic. Meyer's work, however, simply begs for an editor.
Jacob isn't a total dip like the rest of the Forks bunch and somehow manages to let Bella's good side shine for once. She even manages to joke around with him. Is it because he has an actual personality, or is it because he has "a very pretty face"? I'd say it's 50/50.
Unfortunately, Bella ruins everything by attempting to flirt with Jacob in an attempt to pry information about the Cullens out of him. Once again she constantly reminds us that it's "a stupid plan" that is "sure-to-be-pitiful" and that Edward does it better. It's as if she wants us to hate her.
The plan works, though. Jacob is apparently a sucker for a clumsy face so he gives her some info on the down-low about not only the Cullens but the Quileutes. Not only do tribal legends claim that the Cullens are vampires, they also state that the Quileutes descended from wolves, effectively making them werewolves - and the natural enemies of vampires. Not that Jacob would ever believe that. Those are just old ghost stories, right?
In a book saturated with stupidity, I have to grudgingly admit that turning a Native American tribe into a pack of werewolves is pretty ingenious, given that American cultural history has always (possibly apocryphally) painted Native Americans as being one with nature. But really, again with the werewolves vs vampires thing? Was ripping off Underworld too enticing to pass up? Maybe I'm just not as in touch with current trends as the kids are these days but it's always seemed like a half-baked rivalry concocted just to put two mythical creatures in opposition with each other. Guess I should start writing that spec script about Frankensteins vs mummies.
Bella and her loser friends go to La Push for the day. Perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me, since I've been itching to visit the Pacific Northwest for a few years now, but Meyer's description of the coastline isn't half bad - dare I say evocative.
The kids from Forks are soon joined by some young Quileutes from the nearby reservation. One of them is a boy named Jacob. As in, this is how Meyer introduces him: "All I caught was that one of the girls was also named Jessica, and the boy who noticed me was named Jacob." The second time she mentions him: "three teenagers from the reservation perched around the circle, including the boy named Jacob." That's the thing about Meyer's oft-maligned writing, it's not bad per se, it just doesn't sound right. There's something oddly entertaining about the writing of ESL students; they know the language well enough but their sentences verge on idiosyncratic. Meyer's work, however, simply begs for an editor.
Jacob isn't a total dip like the rest of the Forks bunch and somehow manages to let Bella's good side shine for once. She even manages to joke around with him. Is it because he has an actual personality, or is it because he has "a very pretty face"? I'd say it's 50/50.
Unfortunately, Bella ruins everything by attempting to flirt with Jacob in an attempt to pry information about the Cullens out of him. Once again she constantly reminds us that it's "a stupid plan" that is "sure-to-be-pitiful" and that Edward does it better. It's as if she wants us to hate her.
The plan works, though. Jacob is apparently a sucker for a clumsy face so he gives her some info on the down-low about not only the Cullens but the Quileutes. Not only do tribal legends claim that the Cullens are vampires, they also state that the Quileutes descended from wolves, effectively making them werewolves - and the natural enemies of vampires. Not that Jacob would ever believe that. Those are just old ghost stories, right?
In a book saturated with stupidity, I have to grudgingly admit that turning a Native American tribe into a pack of werewolves is pretty ingenious, given that American cultural history has always (possibly apocryphally) painted Native Americans as being one with nature. But really, again with the werewolves vs vampires thing? Was ripping off Underworld too enticing to pass up? Maybe I'm just not as in touch with current trends as the kids are these days but it's always seemed like a half-baked rivalry concocted just to put two mythical creatures in opposition with each other. Guess I should start writing that spec script about Frankensteins vs mummies.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Liveblogging Twilight: Chapter 5
We open as Edward continues to mercilessly play mind games with Bella. This time, Captain Passive Aggressive invites Bella to sit with him during lunch, a big deal considering that Edward only sits with the rest of his family. There's also the fact that the most attractive man in human history is plucking little ol' Bella from the throngs of the great unwashed.
Edward is "giving up trying to be good. I'm just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may." A breath of fresh air given how we've been saddled with our perpetually high-strung heroine. Edward and Bella engage in some banter about what kind of person he really is, and a recurring theme emerges: their deep conversations are mind-numbingly uninteresting. Edward plays everything close to the vest, what with the whole vampire thing and all. Bella is Bella. And thus we get two people perpetually dancing around a subject. Bella's theory about Edward is that he's a superhero, and she actually wants him to take her seriously.
Fortunately, lunch ends, saving the reader from more of this dreck. Time for Biology, except Edward is skipping class that day. Not because he's a rouge, but because they're doing blood tests in class. Bella, of course, gets woozy even at the mention of blood and has to be carted away to the nurse's office. She's intercepted by Edward on her way, however, and smooth talks everyone into letting him take Bella home so she can recover, forcing us to slog through more dialogue between the two.
It's here that we get another indication of Twilight's shoddy writing. Meyer can't be arsed to physically describe anyone other than Edward. The reader knows every last detail about his perfection, including minute-by-minute updates on the color of his eyes. Bella is something of a blank slate. Edward asks about Bella's mother as he drives her home, and she responds "she looks like me, but she's prettier." Compare this to Bella's initial description of her mother in the first chapter: "My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines." Keep in mind that this is the sixth paragraph in the novel and we have no idea at this point what Bella looks like. Unless you're indescribably gorgeous, you aren't worth describing at all.
Their chat in Edward's car is essentially a repeat of what they went over during lunch. Bella, Miss Congeniality as ever, says that she's the only adult in her family. Edward drops unsubtle hints that he's 100% evil. And so on.
As Edward bids her adieu at the end of the chapter, he asks her not to kill herself in a fit of clumsiness during her weekend trip to the beach. He's grinning; she snaps at him. Our soul mates, ladies and gentlemen.
Edward is "giving up trying to be good. I'm just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may." A breath of fresh air given how we've been saddled with our perpetually high-strung heroine. Edward and Bella engage in some banter about what kind of person he really is, and a recurring theme emerges: their deep conversations are mind-numbingly uninteresting. Edward plays everything close to the vest, what with the whole vampire thing and all. Bella is Bella. And thus we get two people perpetually dancing around a subject. Bella's theory about Edward is that he's a superhero, and she actually wants him to take her seriously.
"Please just tell me one little theory." His eyes still smoldered at me. [ed: OH MY GOD ARE YOU KIDDING ME SOMETHING CANNOT SMOLDER AT SOMETHING ELSE.]That's Bella in a nutshell. Edward is playful, she's mopey and unimaginative. Even Meyer cant' stand the conversation, apparently, because she decides to pull out the stops with Edward. "What if I'm not a superhero? What if I'm the bad guy?"
"Um, well, bitten by a radioactive spider?" Was he a hypnotist, too? Or was I just a hopeless pushover?
"That's not very creative," he scoffed.
"I'm sorry, that's all I've got," I said, miffed.
"You're not even close," he teased.
"No spiders?"
"Nope."
"And no radioactivity?"
"None."
"Dang," I sighed.
"Kryptonite doesn't bother me either," he chuckled.
"You're not supposed to laugh, remember?"
Fortunately, lunch ends, saving the reader from more of this dreck. Time for Biology, except Edward is skipping class that day. Not because he's a rouge, but because they're doing blood tests in class. Bella, of course, gets woozy even at the mention of blood and has to be carted away to the nurse's office. She's intercepted by Edward on her way, however, and smooth talks everyone into letting him take Bella home so she can recover, forcing us to slog through more dialogue between the two.
It's here that we get another indication of Twilight's shoddy writing. Meyer can't be arsed to physically describe anyone other than Edward. The reader knows every last detail about his perfection, including minute-by-minute updates on the color of his eyes. Bella is something of a blank slate. Edward asks about Bella's mother as he drives her home, and she responds "she looks like me, but she's prettier." Compare this to Bella's initial description of her mother in the first chapter: "My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines." Keep in mind that this is the sixth paragraph in the novel and we have no idea at this point what Bella looks like. Unless you're indescribably gorgeous, you aren't worth describing at all.
Their chat in Edward's car is essentially a repeat of what they went over during lunch. Bella, Miss Congeniality as ever, says that she's the only adult in her family. Edward drops unsubtle hints that he's 100% evil. And so on.
As Edward bids her adieu at the end of the chapter, he asks her not to kill herself in a fit of clumsiness during her weekend trip to the beach. He's grinning; she snaps at him. Our soul mates, ladies and gentlemen.
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