I read all the ‘Twilight’ books
As a straight male, I only felt a little gay reading and almost enjoying these books. Well, perhaps ‘enjoy’ is really the wrong word to use here. I think ‘tolerate’ would be more applicable. Just like me acknowledging that scorpions and centipedes exist, but I don’t exactly want them flaunted in front of my face. And when one of them crawls up my arm while I’m trying to sleep or masturbate, I not-so-gently flick the insect to its doom. So yeah, you can probably guess where this is going.
Twilight has about as much complexity as proper application of anal lube. It’s obvious where everything is headed from the first chapter of the first book, and although it takes four increasingly-pallid manuscripts to get to the goddamn point, I still felt as though I was being cheated. Bella Swan loves Edward Cullen. Oh noes, now Edward has to leave to protect feeble little Bella. Ermehgerd, now a second love interest pops up. I WONDER TO CHOCOLATE-COATED ASS BEADS WHAT WILL HAPPEN. Spoiler alert: Edward is a vampire. Spoiler alert: Bella becomes a vampire…but only after some nasty vamp-on-human sex. And by ‘nasty,’ I really mean ‘so tame it could only have come from the mind of a Mormon.’
And before I forget, if I ever read another book which uses the word ‘chagrin’ as many times as these, I’ll hang myself with a rope made out of toothpicks and Nutella.
The narrative in the Twilight series is so basic that it takes no imagination decipher. There’s a love triangle, a wrestle with mortality, and such a shitty conclusion that I almost gave up reading at 98% completion. If I were made of money, I’d have chucked my Kindle right through the fucking wall. I can imagine how the conversation would have gone with my neighbor:
“Excuse me, friend, but you seem to have hurled an electronic reading device through my wall.”
“Sorry, I was reading Twilight.”
Spoiler alert: almost the entirety of Breaking Dawn revolves around a battle with the Volturi -the ruling elite of the vampire world. And then, in the last five percent of the book, we get the inevitable pitched battle, only to have it devolve into a peaceful ending. There’s no fighting, no resolution. The book just sort of ends. Everyone is happy, nothing is wrong, and everyone can go home just a little bit happier.
Except for me, because I got ripped off.
I spent about fifty hours reading all four books (this is just an estimate; I wasn’t paying attention to the time) and just to have it end is more disappointing than paying for three hot blonde hookers and only receiving an overweight midget with hairy armpits.
Otherwise, there’s not too much wrong with the books. In fact, in several parts, I almost -vaguely, mind- had a good time. Meyer’s writing style borders on the overly-simplistic craptasm that plagues all young adult titles, but it’s not overtly dreadful. She routinely lays scenes out so things are very easy to visualize, and that’s a relief because the amount of time she puts into describing Edward’s chest makes it seem like she was secretly getting off while she was writing. The plots are always straightforward, which is nice because the books were obviously intended to corner the tween girl market. I can’t imagine that sort of clientèle able to absorb anything more complicated. So kudos to Meyer for nailing it.
And that’s why it’s difficult to properly categorize my reactions to the Twilight series. If I’d utterly and completely despised them, there’s no way I could have grudgingly made it through all four. And yet, looking back only fifteen minutes after I turned the last e-page of Breaking Dawn, I feel no sense of accomplishment. And that’s why I say I tolerated the books. They weren’t awful for what they were. I mean shit, there’s a reason they sold so many millions of copies. But then my straight-adult-male persona takes over and I can more aptly criticize my experience; it was hollow gratification, just like free internet porn. Sure, it’s not as good as the polished pay-site porn, but in the end it gets the job done with pleasing results.
Would I recommend Twilight to anyone? No, I can’t in good faith do that. I’d be lying if I said I’d read books which were much worse, because honestly if a book doesn’t grab me in the first couple chapters I won’t read it it. I would even go so far as to say I’d admit to my fellow adult male demographic that I had, in fact, read the Twilight books. But that’s about the best praise I can level. Sure, I’ll admit I’ve read them, but only just so.
So take that as you will. If you’re a chick who’s into sparkly vampires, love triangles, and dirty interspecies sex, you’ll probably have a good time. If you’re an adult male who enjoys pink tacos as opposed to chocolate ice cream dispensers, you should probably read something else.
Conclusion: They’re pretty bad books, but I did finish them, so that’s something. 1.0/5.0