Stephenie Meyer

Twilight: A triumph of marketing (or: A beautiful swan for some, an ugly duckling for others)

It begins with the cover, the perfect red apple — forbidden fruit! — offered to the reader by perfect, pale hands. (Note the epigraph from Genesis: "But of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it ....") It continues, and continues, with the blossoming relationship between the narrator, Bella Swan, and the physically perfect and mysterious Edward Cullen — who, as the back cover states, is a vampire.

The popularity of this book, and the upcoming movie release, have probably broadcast the basic plot: Bella, about sixteen, decides to relocate from her mom's home in scorching Phoenix to her dad's home in overcast Forks, Washington, where the aforementioned Edward and his equally beautiful and mysterious "siblings" are (rather poorly) attempting to pass as high school students. (The author wisely or foolishly stays away from close scrutiny of the practicality of this. How do decades-old beings obtain or forge the necessary identifying documents? And does Washington have such draconian anti-truancy laws that said beings would rather endure the minimum security prison of high school than get ID's that make them old enough to do whatever they want?)

But perhaps I digress. The author sets up the tension between the almost-irresistibly tasty Bella and the irresistibly gorgeous Edward as the book's inviting heart. If you can tolerate the following passage, you may enjoy their wary courtship:

"I should have left long ago," [the vampire] sighed. "I should leave now. But I don't know if I can."
"I don't want you to leave," I mumbled pathetically, staring down again.
"Which is exactly why I should. But don't worry. I'm essentially a selfish creature. I crave your company too much to do what I should."
"I'm glad."
"Don't be!" He withdrew his hand, more gently this time; his voice was harsher than usual. Harsh for him, still more beautiful than any human voice. It was hard to keep up--his sudden mood changes left me always a step behind, dazed.
"It's not only your company I crave! Never forget that. Never forget I am more dangerous to you than I am to anyone else." He stopped, and I looked to see him gazing unseeingly into the forest. [p. 266, paperback]

The "it" begun by the cover is, accordingly, the promise of achingly slow and — ah! — forbidden seduction. In two words: dark romance. I'd personally love to see a complete psycho-sexual analysis of this book, but just a few observations. Edward is designed as the ultimate bad-boy: a gorgeous outsider and dangerous predator. His sexual and digestive lusts for Bella are enormous, checked only by his even more enormous love for her. (Why he loves her is only partially explained: she's lovely, fragrant, bright and spunky and is somehow immune to his ability to read minds; but she's also supernaturally clumsy and has ninety fewer years of life experience.) He must also protect her from being ravished by less noble humans or ravaged by less civilized vampires. In effect, their relationship is defined by constant yearning and vigilance, perpetuating a state of lustful chastity ... and thus tension intended to keep the pages turning.

And of course, the author and publisher are careful not to remove any of that tension in this book, carrying it over into its sequel (New Moon). Other questions remain, too. Why can't Edward read Bella's mind? What's the origin of vampires? (A brief discussion of possible answers to this question touches on evolution and intelligent design and is part of the 2% of thought-worthy material in a book that's 98% brain-candy.) And why does so much of the climax occur off-stage, outside of Bella's perception? (That should change in the movie.) Overall, Twilight is a lightweight modern fantasy that will probably appeal strongly to readers, especially young readers, who enjoy romances and supernatural fiction. (They might especially find this a good airplane, beach or sick day book.) Recommended as a (used) paperback or library loan for those readers and not recommended for others. 2-1/2 stars, as warm and butterscotchy as Edward's piercing eyes (when he's not hungry).

One afterthought: it seemed that Ms. Meyer, in her first book, was actually writing below her talent level. (She does have an English degree.) Granted, she tells the tale in Bella's voice. But, it also seems that pains were taken to limit or exclude any references to religion, government, class, culture, etc. — things that could deepen the tale, but also make it more less than 98% brain candy and (presumably) less appealing to its target audience. I don't know how much of this is Ms. Meyer and how much her editor/publisher, but the book's popularity makes me wonder about the state of teenage literary tastes.) Just a thought.   —Rob R.   Comments

Twilight: “Would You Like to Rethink Your Last Request?”

I found Stephenie Meyer’s first novel Twilight in the bargain bin of my university bookstore, and the title rang a bell. Wasn’t this the book that everyone was talking about? It wasn’t badly priced, so I took it home with me, deciding that it was time to add my two cents to the discussion. When I finished a few days later, I knew I’d enjoyed reading it, though truthfully I also felt a little under-whelmed (no doubt due to all the hype).

Bella Swan is relocating from Phoenix to the perpetually overcast town of Forks to live with her father, and isn’t looking forward to it. However, her attitude changes once she sees, and then meets, Edward Cullen, a very handsome (and that’s putting it mildly) young classmate whose reaction to her is baffling. At first he seems to be struck with an instant dislike of her, but soon becomes friendly and attentive. Yet there’s something more to him than meets the eye, and soon Bella falls upon an extraordinary theory for his supernatural speed, strength and agility… 

The majority of the story is taken up with Bella’s growing realization and understanding of Edward’s ‘condition’ (it would be wrong to give too much of it away, even though every teenage girl — and probably most boys — know what it is by now), but there is also a villain introduced two-thirds of the way through the story. Perhaps he’s a little too late in coming to have the impact he could have had, (especially since he has an interesting connection with one of the Cullens) but he’s frightening enough in his demeanor and methods of hunting to send a chill down my spine.

The strongest aspect of the book is the narrative voice: told in first person by its protagonist, Meyer vividly evokes Bella’s voice, mood, personality, and attitudes. It helps that Bella has a complex and realistic relationship with both her parents; relationships that heavily influence how she lives her life — from her day-to-day existence, to how she makes life-altering decisions. Even though her mother and father do not get much ‘screen-time,’ their importance to Bella is clear (and in fact, toward the end of the story, the plot hinges on Bella’s concern for their safety). So many YA books in the ‘supernatural’ genre completely dismiss the subject of parents, and the main character always suffers as a result, but in this case, a parents’ importance to their child is not understated.

So when it comes to Bella, I have no complaints (though what with her astonishing clumsiness I do wonder if she had some sort of ear-infection that was disrupting her internal balance) and Meyer captures the mind-bending, heart-racing, palm-sweating pain and rapture of first love very well. Even though I couldn’t quite empathize with Bella’s feelings, I was convinced that she felt them. But the reason why I couldn’t fully empathize with Bella is because Edward didn’t impress me much. The problem was that he was so intolerably bossy! Here’s a sample of some of his dialogue, picked at random from the text:

“I’d still rather you didn’t go to Seattle by yourself.”
“I think you should eat something.”
“You need a healthy dose of fear. Nothing could be more beneficial for you.”
“Drink.”
“Put your seatbelt on.”
“You have fifteen minutes. Do you hear me? Fifteen minutes from the time you cross the doorstep.”
“You need to rest. All this arguing isn’t good for you.”

Along with this consistent controlling aspect to his personality, Edward also stalks Bella on a shopping trip with her friends, eavesdrops on her conversations, breaks into her house to watch her when she’s asleep, cross-examines her with a barrage of questions, and insists that he drives her home to the point where he’s physically pulling her: “he was towing me toward his car now, pulling me by my jacket. It was all I could do to keep from falling backwards. He’d probably just drag me along anyway if I did.” At one point he even opens the car door for her…nothing wrong with that, but he’s sitting in the driver’s seat at the time. Sheesh! I found such behaviour more annoying than romantic or chivalrous, and often it felt that Edward acted more like Bella’s babysitter than her love interest.

If these aspects of his character were treated as faults and if Bella called him on his invasion of her privacy or pushy attitude, I wouldn’t mind so much, but it would seem that Meyer wants the reader to view Edward as ‘the perfect guy.’ Unfortunately, a guy like this would irritate the heck out of me…when he wasn’t creeping me out. More annoying is the fact that Bella seems quite happy to let herself be coddled like a child, and by the end of the book it’s apparent that she’s an astonishingly passive heroine, having been rescued by Edward no less than four times throughout the course of the story.

Furthermore, the romance itself is very sudden, as they seem to become a couple overnight, and I’m hard-pressed to recall exactly how and when they made this transition (though I suppose that this could be construed as a good thing if you look at it in a certain way) and I’m having trouble understanding the attraction. She thinks he’s very good looking (and her constant reveries on how “perfect” and “beautiful” he is get old very fast), and he is intrigued because he can’t read her thoughts, and both are intoxicated by the scent of the other. But beyond this, I’m not entirely sure what they’re basing their relationship on. What common interests do they share? What do they talk about beyond their infatuation with each other? Meyer gives us a few trifling details, like books and CDs that they both own, but such things are hardly what you’d build a relationship on.

So at the moment I’m sitting on the fence, poised between loving and loathing these books. Twilight was a strong opening in the series, and there are plenty of things I’m looking forward to in later books: I’m interested in the Cullen family, and their history with (what I’m guessing are) the werewolves from the Indian reservation, and why they decided to forsake the traditional bloodlust of their species. But Bella will have to gain more of a voice when it comes to dealing with Edward’s overbearing antics, and there’ll have to be an exploration of their love that goes beyond Bella’s rhapsodies on how “beautiful and glorious” Edward is, or Edward’s declarations of how great Bella smells. I’d like a more realistic look at how such a relationship might exist — the ups and the downs that the couple have not just with the world, but with each other. Right now they’re in the ‘infatuated’ part of the affair, but when that ends, there has to be a more stable base that a life together can be built on.

And for the life of me, I can’t figure out why 100+ year old vampires are enrolled in high school.    —Rebecca   Comments

Twilight

For any potential readers concerned that Twilight might be a retread of twelve combined seasons of Buffy and Angel, set your fears aside. It's not. Buffy and Angel were never set in "our" world — the real world. It was the "Buffy" universe, and/or the "Angel" universe. At first glance, it seems inconceivable that Bella did not realize what Edward is. Most of the requisite indicators are evident. You find yourself reading and wondering how Bella could possibly guess "Peter Parker" instead of "vampire," but then it sinks in. Bella can't conceive of such a thing because this book is firmly, irrevocably set in our world, and that, indeed, is the magic of this story.

It is a remarkable accomplishment, often attempted, but rarely achieved, and far more rarely executed with such (apparent) ease.

I did not expect to like Twilight, and started to read it only as a courtesy to the person who gave it to me for my birthday. But twenty pages in, I was hooked. If we want to follow that metaphor to its inevitable conclusion, I was so hooked that by the time I finished it I was in the fisherman's pail, flopping around as if gasping for air. Instead, I was begging for a sequel. Thankfully, I already knew that the sequel was out. To quote a character from the book, "W - o - w". I haven't sped through something like this since I picked up the first Harry Potter book.

Stephenie Meyer handled the developing relationship between Edward and Bella with the mark of a seasoned professional, not a first-time novelist. We need to remember that this is coming-of-age book, or a romance — more a combination of Catcher in the Rye and Pride and Prejudice than a vampire story. It certainly has far more in common with those two books than The Vampire Lestat. (And, of course, Buffy and Angel.)

It is very difficult to write a coming-of-age story. Why? It's been done a million times, and finding new material to mine becomes more difficult every month. It's also difficult to write a vampire story. Why? Same reason. Yet those reasons didn't give Ms. Meyers, it seems, any pause. It would have given me considerable pause. Kudos to her bravery.

Edward Cullen, the vampire, is perfect — and we are reminded of exactly how perfect nearly too often. While reading the book, I found myself frustrated with the never-ending descriptions of his perfect body, perfect hair, model-like looks (maybe I was jealous?) but then I realized that the book wasn't being written in the third person. It's a first-person narrative, so we're getting the story as Bella tells it, and how Bella sees it. His burning black eyes, or warm topaz/butterscotch eyes, are magnets to her, as are every single movement he makes. It's not difficult to step back into high school and remember your first love (or crush) and recall similar feelings. Their eyes never ceased to captivate you; their smile melted you; when they kissed you, you felt faint. And you felt these things every single time you saw that person.

One of the more interesting aspects of the book is that we never get a sense for how unique and beautiful Bella is until we start to see her through Edward's eyes. This being a first-person narrative, it takes a while for the reader to understand how Bella — so awkward that she can trip while walking on a flat surface — could have fascinated such a magnificent ...creature. I even questioned it myself while making my way through the book. But again, Ms. Meyer's deft hand brings the realization of how special Bella is very slowly and deliberately — much the way in which we didn't find out why Bella moved to Forks until page 50 or so, and why we never knew exactly why Edward had such a powerful, apparently repulsed reaction to Bella when they first came close to each other.

That's just one thing that makes a writer truly exceptional — the ability to hold back, and tell the story as the story needs to be told. Or to put it another way, to know exactly how the story needs to be told. That might just be the most difficult task a writer has. There are a million ways to tell the story in the writer's head, but to find the right way is often elusive.

This was such a remarkable and refreshing story. Even when Buffy and Angel similarities started to pop up, they quickly fell away as Ms. Meyer staked an irrevocable claim to this story as absolutely her own — nothing borrowed.

The representation of the vampires, their unique talents, and the unique way in which they blend into society is marvelous, and provides a firm backbone to the story. While this is a story that is decidedly told in our world, and while I have said that this is more of a coming-of-age story than a vampire story, there are still vampires in it, and the vampires — the fantastical elements of the story — need to be believable. If not, the entire story, no matter how well told, falls apart, and the reader is left wondering why the vampires are even in the story. Her vampires, and their lore, are distinctly drawn.

I wanted to title this review, "My brand of heroin," from a line in the book, but thought twice seeing as it's a young adult book and I didn't want parents or anyone else thinking that I was advocating heroin use, or claiming to be a heroin addict, etc. But this book is absolutely intoxicating and perhaps addictive. Thankfully, the worst side effect of the intoxication is you might suffer a lack of sleep on one night (if you have the time, it shouldn't take much longer), and the addiction — to a book — is harmless. —Todd   Comments
Originally published 9/2006

New Moon

In my review of Twilight, I said that the book had more in common with Catcher in the Rye and Pride and Prejudice than it did with any vampire novels or stories. That still holds true, although be certain: I'm not comparing Twilight or New Moon to these books in terms of literary quality. There are few that match either.

In New Moon we miss the vampires for most of the story, and Bella spends time with her friend Jacob, an Indian fated with becoming a werewolf, and fated to hate all "bloodsuckers," regardless of whether or not the bloodsuckers took human lives. (BTW, that little bit is cleared up at the end...what exactly their treaty entails. It's interesting, kind of, but I have to wonder if Stephenie Meyer thought of it as the story was being written, and that it wasn't planned when the "treaty" was first mentioned. I suppose it doesn't matter.)

If you're reading this story because you like vampire stories, you will be disappointed. Edward's only around for a bit less than 1/3 of the book. When he is around, however, his presence is appreciated. One thing that Meyer didn't do this time, and it was similarly appreciated, was to have Bella writing down every single thought that she had regarding his absolute perfection (remember: this is a first person narrative).

While spending time with "the wolves," Bella goes through some interesting growth patterns. I say interesting, because I'm not entirely certain that I followed them or that if I understood them that I agreed with them. That said, I've never been a teenage girl, and the author has been a teenage girl, so I have to bow to her experience in this.

Many readers will look at Bella's behavior during her "dalliance with wolves" as bizarre and entirely unbelievable. I don't think they were. For anyone that has had the absolute love of their life torn from them, with the absolute belief that this love would not return, and if you happen to be emotionally immature to top all of this off, your behavior wouldn't be too far off from Bella's. I'm not saying exactly like Bella's — just not too far off.

Again, this is not a vampire story. The fact that vampires were not around in this book as often as some may have liked did not lessen the quality of the story. What was missing, though, was the urgency, and the mystery. For example, we never knew why, in Twilight, Edward recoiled upon first seeing Bella until the very end. We had a reaction, and a resolution, and during that time we had lots of questions. That type of immediacy was missing here. Everything was rather straightforward.

When Edward lies to Bella, we know that he is lying, and we know that there will be resolution. The problem is that we know he's lying, and we know the resolution won't be too surprising.

I did enjoy the unique take on werewolves, but I felt that since we had seen so much of the vampires in the first book, that we should have seen and felt more of the werewolves in this book.

One thing that I found particularly frustrating was the similarity of emotion that both Jake and Edward have for Bella. Yes, Bella is a clutz, and she definitely needs protecting. But to have two main characters, in two separate books, respond to her in a nearly identical manner (both fearing for, and being vocal about, her need to be less careless), is tough to buy.

There were some hints of future issues between the Cullens and Jake's clan. I hope we see them. And I hope that this story can survive the necessary metamorphosis — at some point, it will need to be less about Bella's intense love for Edward, and more about the actual situations surrounding them.

This may sound like a negative review. It's not. I thoroughly enjoyed this book and am anxiously awaiting the third book. There are a lot of possibilities, and I can't help but wonder which possibility Stephenie Meyer will choose, and how she will resolve whatever roadblocks her choices give her.   —Todd   Comments
Adapted from a review originally published in 9/2006

Eclipse: A bizzarre love triangle; or, Bella finds her groove

My favorite moment in Eclipse occurred on page 10. Charlie says to Bella, "For a teenager, you're amazingly non-whiney." Given that the majority of complaints people have about Twilight and New Moon revolve around Bella being whiney and possessed by an extraordinary amount of angst, I found Stephenie Meyer's tongue-in-cheek reaction to her critics marvelous. If that's not a perfect example of someone who doesn't take themselves too seriously and can laugh at (perhaps) their own shortcomings, I don't know what is. Charlie's comment brought a smile to my face, and renewed the respect that I have for Ms. Meyer.

One thing that is very much appreciated is the conspicuous absence of Bella being a complete and utter clutz. While cute and endearing for a time, it grew old with even the staunchest fans. In this book she isn't falling all over herself and causing flash avalanches (to speak figuratively). That said, virtually everyone still growls and glowers. That should be addressed — not every character is going to react the same way.

In Eclipse, we are brought back to Forks, and given the events of New Moon and the return of Edward, we know immediately that we're going to be in for some leg hiking and territory-marking. And, wouldn't you know, there's gobs of it.

In between the "spraying," we get a lot of back history. We learn about how Jasper turned, how Rosalie turned, how the werewolves came to be — and much more. For the first three hundred pages the book reads more like what I'll call "fun homework." Some setup occurs, with regard to the eventual plot and conflict, but the setup is mentioned almost in passing and in very soft hints. If what Ms. Meyer was telling us wasn't already information we were dying to know, we might have been bored (I assume that some people were). I wasn't, although I did find myself snapping my fingers, saying, "OK, point made...let's get going."

One plot line that begins to develop isn't so much a plot line as it is realization. Jacob is in love with Bella. We've known this since Twilight; it's no secret to us. It's also no secret to everyone in the books whose name isn't Bella. She has chosen to pretend that the Jacob she got to know in Twilight, and the one who was there to pick up her pieces in New Moon when Edward left her, is still the Jacob of Eclipse and that's not the case. Jacob has had time to ponder his emotions and feelings, and to probe their depths. He's also learned how to play dirty, and is very manipulative with Bella. We spend a disproportionate amount of time examining his feelings for her, as well as — gasp — her feelings for him!

That's where I ran into trouble. I read Twilight (more like devoured), and sped through New Moon. Like everyone else, I knew what Jacob felt. What I didn't know — and what I still am having difficulty believing — is that Bella loved Jacob back. The Jacob in this book was a sad shadow of the immensely lovable teen we met in Twilight. The wolf has wound its tendrils into his soul, and he is changed. It's not for the better. I'm not sure what this says about the werewolf in general, and for as much backstory that we received about how they came to be, I still felt (as I did in New Moon) that I didn't "see" the werewolves as clearly as I did the vampires. When that occurs in fiction, it's often the result of the author feeling much more in tune with one or the other. The vampires we know. Everything about them, from their impossible beauty (is everyone that's bitten/turned truly model material?) to their individual talents and idiosyncrasies. Since we spent so much time with the wolves in New Moon, and again here in Eclipse, something more than their pack mentality and the different colors of their fur would have been helpful. Realize, please, that I'm not saying that the werewolves were a failure. I'm saying that they're not as fully realized as the vampires, and I wish they were. They come across to me as two-dimensional, whereas the vampires are multi-dimensional.

Ms. Meyer tells a terrific story here. It's a carryover from New Moon with a fascinating twist that gives further depth to the vampires: someone is creating new vampires in Seattle, and they are going on a killing spree to rival the Green River Killer. Bella plays an interesting role, although it leads to expressions of angst that some may find off-putting. (I didn't.) Eventually the realization is made that in order to quell the problem in Seattle before the Volturi become involved, the Cullens need to take action. But they won't be enough. They'll need the help of the wolves.

That's where the true genius of this story lies. Vampires and werewolves are often (if not always) depicted as blood enemies, so to force them to work together, even if it is against a common enemy, takes quite a bit of doing. Thankfully, Bella is able to supply the motivation — it seems that everybody wants a piece of her. Figuratively and literally. The resultant action sequences are tense and well told.

And during this action, there's quite the love triangle. Imagine Bella sleeping in a tent with Edward and Jacob, and in this tent is a sleeping bag. Put Jacob and Bella in that sleeping bag. Put Edward outside of it. Something he does willingly. Tricky stuff, yet deftly and well handled by Ms. Meyer. Frankly, I can't say enough good about how she handled the varied love interests (even if I don't buy the reasoning behind it).

So, what's wrong with Bella loving Jacob? Well, she loves Edward. And that's pretty much all we've heard for the last two books. Edward is her heart, her soul, her eternity — and I have a hard time buying into the belief that there would be room for anyone else inside of her heart, other than a very good friend. But, that's just my opinion.

Bella's angst in the later chapters have to deal with her decision to become a vampire. I think that Ms. Meyer is handling this extremely well. Other writers, impatient to move their story in a direction that perhaps it isn't ready to go in yet, would have had Bella turned in the first 300 pages. Ms. Meyer proved to be a true storyteller, true and honest to her craft.

I can't WAIT to see what she has for us next.

The Epilogue was a brave departure from a series that so far has been told from the inside of Bella's head. I'll leave it at that, though I will note that there are some serious issues that could arise from what happens there.    —Todd   Comments
Adapted from a review originally published in 8/2007

Breaking Dawn

I’ve given outstanding reviews to Twilight, New Moon, and Eclipse. Posting a two-star review for Breaking Dawn, the final book in the Twilight series, doesn’t bring a smile to my face. Here are the major problems, as I see them:

There’s no plot. In fact, nothing happens that resembles a plot until page 544 (first edition hardback). That’s inexcusable.

The writing, until a bit past page 544 is not very good. After that, when the stakes have been raised (or, I should say, any kind of stakes are introduced), the writing improves significantly. It’s tight, and the descriptions are strong. It’s usually the other way around, with writers rushing to get the end, and getting sloppy. She still uses “growl,” “glower,” and “glare” far too often. I haven’t read The Host, so I don’t know if that annoying habit carries over, but when you’re dealing with vampires, werewolves, and humans, you can’t use “growl” as a dialogue tag for each species. Maybe if werewolves growled, vampires hissed, humans seethed, but everybody growls? No. Most annoying is that she uses “growl” as a dialogue tag when it’s already implied in the text that the character is speaking in a not-so-happy-voice.

The first 138 pages read like a Harlequin romance. Bella and Edward get married and go on a honeymoon. Whoopee. Bella has some strange dreams, and those dreams seem like portents, but they’re too similar to things we’ve already seen for them to cause the other thing a story needs, and something most of this story lacks: real, gritty tension. Granted, Edward impregnating Bella is a surprise, but that’s not enough to drive a story, even if a vampire-human bond has never resulted in offspring (usually because the vampire would have killed the human in the process due to uncontrollable passion). Bella’s handling of becoming pregnant seems odd. I’m not a woman, so I can’t speak with any kind of authority, but her reaction didn’t ring true, especially knowing the dangers, and especially when she realized that only Rosalie — crazy Rosalie — would understand and so reaches out to her for help.

Breaking Dawn is divided into three parts, and Stephenie Meyer really goes on a limb by having the middle part — or Book 2 — told entirely from Jacob’s perspective. There are Jacob fans, I know, but I don’t understand where they’re coming from. Jacob, with the exception of how his character was written in Twilight, is the most annoying character in the book, and Bella’s inexcusable actions toward him don’t help his cause. He’s in love with her. He can’t have her. Get the clue and move on. They’re supposed to be best friends, but I don’t see their friendship represented in the actual text to be anywhere near as strong as Meyer tells us it is. To be believed, it needs to be in the text.

There’s also the stylistic problem of changing the way the story is told mid-book. The whole series, with the exception of the epilogue at the end of the last book, has been told from Bella’s perspective (and I’m of the opinion that the Epilogue did not open the door for her to this here). If you’re a master stylist, then you might be able to pull something like this off, although it would be unadvisable. Meyer is not a master stylist, and she didn’t pull it off. Again — no plot. Jacob whines and moans like the most insufferable petulant teenager, and Bella gives birth to a baby. The birthing of the baby is certainly full of tension, but do we really think for one second that Bella will die, no matter what horrors Meyer throws at her? Of course not. So it’s really not very tense and, because it’s not tense, it’s gratuitous.

What happened to Edward after Renesmee was born? He was the father of the baby, so why was he constantly taking a back seat to Jacob? I didn’t buy what little evidence was provided in the text. As to the name Renesmee, that’s in my top 5 as one of the most ridiculous character names in fiction, and I’ve read some pretty bad fantasy with awful, horrid names.

That Jake imprinted on Renesmee is unbelievable. Seriously? He can’t have Bella so he’ll imprint on her daughter? Hello, Morality 101, please welcome Jake as a new student.

The message that Breaking Dawn sends to girls everywhere is deplorable. This book doesn’t seem to be about making difficult decisions and learning to dig deep inside yourself, find reservoirs of strength and lift yourself to great heights; rather, it seems to be about making inane, ridiculous decisions and never finding out what those decisions really cost. Case in point: Renesmee. If not for Edward’s heroism and astonishing cleverness, she would have died giving birth to Renesmee. Stupid, stupid Bella.

Some might argue that Bella saved the day at the end, so doesn’t that say something for her? Not really, though I’ll give her due credit for bravery. The problem is that Meyer has made a habit of gifting the Cullen family beyond believability, so it’s no surprise that Bella develops a supernatural talent so great that it frightens Aro, the leader of the Volturi. Bella didn’t save the day, Meyer did.

This Bella is a lucky girl. There’s always someone around to catch her when she falls (a guy), she gets to have her cake and eat it too (keeps Jake as a friend, Edward as her husband, and Hey! Edward and Jake get along now, too), when turned into a vampire she finds the normal period of longing for human blood and other indecencies don’t apply to her, so she gets to see her father and anyone else she wants, for that matter. Is that two supernatural talents? Or are we really to believe that because Bella has thought about it for so long, she was prepared? I don’t think life works that way, or, at least, that it should work that way.

There’s the saying that everybody loves a happy ending. That’s true, but this went beyond a happy ending. It’s perfect, as the very last sentence of the book specifically states.

What a disappointing end to what had been a riveting series.  —Todd   Comments