So when I was a teen girl, I actually sort of liked Twilight. Blasphemous, I know. But all the same, I found the story rather, well…romantic. And it was vastly different from anything else I had read thus far. The series I liked at the time were mostly science fiction fare like Animorphs. Which I thoroughly intend to put on a my recommended page, as well as on my top list of science fiction books for kids.
I was also very different from my brief brushes with vampire fiction. At the time I liked Annette Curtis Klause’s The Silver Kiss and Amelia Atwater-Rhode’s Den of Shadows series. Twilight’s vampires hardly adhered to vampire canon, and I thought Bella and Edward’s relationship was compelling.
And all that being said, I was also fifteen. I had never dated or really had a male friend. I really had nothing to compare it to. So as I entered my twenties and started dating, I began seeing everyone’s point about Twilight. The relationships are possessive, nigh abusive. It was not an example I’d want young couples to find acceptable or to aspire to.
And as I took many writing courses in college, I also began to see the story telling flaws in Twilight. The purple prose. The flat characters. The weak plot and non-endings that Meyer favors. So in short I became a book snob in college.
On top of all that, New Moon is just freaking miserable. Even when I was reading the series, I thought it was a major bummer, and didn’t think it fit in well with the tone of the rest of the series. And that’s because Stephenie Meyer didn’t originally intend to write it. Don’t believe me? Check it out.
Originally Twilight was just a pet project Meyer was working on. So after finishing it, she began her next book, Forever Dawn, or as the rest of us know it, Breaking Dawn. Yep. The books in between weren’t really planned for. She began writing them only after it was clear Twilight was going to be published.
Originally we wouldn’t have gotten the only good thing that came out of this book. Namely, Jacob Black. And boy does it show that the middle two books weren’t intended canon. This book barely furthers the plot, doesn’t do any favors for Bella’s character, and is just plain depressing.
So let’s get started on it, shall we?
We begin with the mandatory vague prologue. Bella is running.
But this was no dream, and unlike the nightmare, I wasn’t running for my life; I was racing to save something infinitely more precious. My own life meant little to me today.
Ah the return of the martyr complex. And on the first page too. Don’t pretend any differently Bella, your life means little to you every single day. Dating a vampire that has a raging death boner for you is proof enough of that.
Bella keeps running, spouting ominous phrases about an enemy we haven’t met yet. Sounds thrilling right? Be prepared for an anti-climax. The baddies are nowhere near bad ass enough for this intro.
As the clock began to toll out the hour, vibrating under the soles of my sluggish feet, I knew I was too late–and I was glad something bloodthirsty waited in the wings. For in failing at this, I forfeited any desire to live.
Good lord. As a survivor of a suicide attempt I can’t even begin to express how melodramatic and insulting this sort of thing gets in the book. I’ll wait to drag out my soapbox another chapter.
Thankfully the prologue is short. Unfortunately, the rest of the book is not. See you next chapter.