Oopth! I missed another day. I promise there’s reasons. I’ll do two today to make up for it.
So on Day 12 it looks like I got a bit confused – it was supposed to be a book I used to love, but I got ahead of myself! So I figured having mucked it up a bit, I’ll just swap it around.
The Twilight Saga by Stephanie Meyer
I was fourteen or fifteen when Twilight (pre any of the films) became a ‘thing’, and I read the books partly cos I wanted to, partly cos I wanted to keep up with the crowd. Everyone was talking about it, everyone was speculating on what the films would be like, and so on. It was fun to have something to discuss with people, as a book-ish type, as at that age not many people were in the Austen-and-Shakespeare club. I didn’t get to natter books much. I sound like I’m trying to justify liking them, and I am, because honestly I don’t want to believe that I did like them. It’s uncomfortable to admit to myself how much I did love them.
No, it’s not because they’re really popular now. It’s not because they’re awfully written (while it’s not fantastic prose, it’s not as awful as some stuff that makes it to publication). I’m not someone who disavows something as soon as it’s ‘cool’ to like it.
I really hate these books now because I listened to other critics about them, I had a little reflect on the books myself, and I realised what was going on and being idolised by the whole narrative. If you haven’t had it pointed out to you, ever, the relationship between Bella and Edward is really, really bad. It is abusive. It has all the hallmarks.
I won’t go into everything that’s wrong with them, cos I could go on forever. The thing that scares me is how totally I, at 15, bought into that relationship, into the romance of it all. I was totally sold on his protectiveness being cute, not controlling, and Jacob’s affection being adorable, not entitled. Just. Acch. No. Take it away. Take it away.