In case anyone is wondering, this book has twenty-four chapters, an epilogue and a prologue. So, we’re coming awfully close to the halfway mark… and to date, NOTHING HAS HAPPENED. Okay, to be fair, a few things have happened… but they’re not plot. They’re just one-off perils so Bella can be rescued.
And sadly, I’m not seeing that trend changing anytime soon.
Everyone watched us as we walked together to our lab table.
- “Maybe it was because we were making out and groping the whole way. Tee hee.”
- Well, maybe they wouldn’t stare if you had deigned to come in on time.
- Or does Bella think that everyone is so interested in their relationship that nobody can pay attention to anything else?
- But the important thing is that apparently Edward is sitting smack next to her instead of almost falling off his chair to avoid her… OOO, HE MUST LOVE ME!
- Am I REALLY supposed to think Bella is mature and wise beyond her years? Because this is standard teen crush shit. It’s not mature.
Mr. Banner backed into the room then — what superb timing the man had —
… I don’t get it. How is it good timing to be on time to HIS OWN CLASS?
So apparently it’s time for an Educational Film, which apparently delights the class. I’m betting it’s a film on sexual reproduction, given the way Bella’s acting – in case you haven’t clued in, Bella is horny as a mountain ram. She basically spends the film rolling around orgasmically because she’s right next to Edward and he is SOOOOOOOO hawt.
I was stunned by the unexpected electricity that flowed through me, amazed that it was possible to be more aware of him than I already was. A crazy impulse to reach over and touch him, to stroke his perfect face just once in the darkness, nearly overwhelmed me.
Can somebody please hit her with a live wire so electricity can REALLY flow through her? Seriously, quit drooling on yourself about how incredibly perfect Edward is. We get it. We know. Enough already. THIS is why men wouldn’t read this series even if you threatened their testicles with broken glass. It’s torture for a woman with a brain to read this shit – imagine how much worse it would be for a dude. Even a dude who likes dudes.
For the record, it is possible to have insanely hot men in a story and still have a PLOT. One of my favorite manga series is Bleach, which is crammed with attractive men ranging from their midteens to their late twenties/early thirties, frequently with their clothes blasted off. One of my favorite fictional vampires is Thomas Raith, a bishie from the Dresden Files universe, who is not only stunningly beautiful but is also an incubus (which prompts women and men alike to shed their clothes and sexually assault the poor guy).
Also of note: Fruits Basket, which is known for having a concentration of blindingly hot men; the Modern Faerie Tales series by Holly Black, which has a gorgeous faerie warrior as the love interest; and the works of Tak Sakaguchi, who is quite possibly the hottest actor in Japan.
What do these things have in common with Twilight? Gorgeous men.
What do these things have that Twilight does NOT have? Plots, likable characters, action, adventure, plausible romance, female characters who don’t suck, and just… SOMETHING going on that does not involve ogling the author’s dreamboy.
I was losing my mind.
I know the feeling.
The opening credits began, lighting the room by a token amount.
“… just enough for me to notice that everyone except me was making out with someone. But no! I must maintain the artificial sexual tension for no real reason!”
Then she notices that Eddie is in the exact same pose as her, meaning that OOOO WEEEEEEE IT MUST BE TROO LURV! Yes, there is no actual point to this entire scene, except to give her another chance to wet herself over how awesome Edward is for… being attractive.
He grinned back, his eyes somehow managing to smolder, even in the dark.
A better question would be, how the hell would his eyes smolder when he’s GRINNING? And what the hell is he grinning AT? Freak.
I looked away before I could start hyperventilating. It was absolutely ridiculous that I should feel dizzy.
That I can agree with. I love how this is supposed to be Troo Deep Passionate Eternal Luv That Was Meant To Be, but it actually sounds more like a teenage infatuation based on… looks.
The hour seemed very long. I couldn’t concentrate on the movie — I didn’t even know what subject it was on.
“… and when the plane crashed into the World Trade Center, dozens of people died instantly and others were left to linger in the wreckage, or fall to their deaths as the towers fell. The country’s borders were sealed, and paranoia reigned as people waited for war to break out. New York was seized with fear and chaos…”
“Duuuhhhbbluuuuubbb… Edward is HAWT… hee hee…”
I tried unsuccessfully to relax, but the electric current that seemed to be originating from somewhere in his body never slackened.
Quick! Someone throw water on them, and stand back!
So Bawla is horny and Edward is probably horny, and they stay horny throughout the movie. And when it finally ends, it’s time for gym. That entire scene was utterly and completely pointless. What did it do other than establish what we already knew: that Bella is horny for Edward’s sparkly body?!
His voice was dark and his eyes were cautious.
… aren’t those adjectives mixed up?
“Umm,” was all I was able to respond.
Yeah, I totally believe that Bella is smarter than the entire school AND her parents.
“Shall we?” he asked, rising fluidly.
“… it was then that I noticed that he had gracefully, perfectly wet his pants.”
But oh noes! Then Bella is anguished because Edward isn’t going to the same class as her. THEY’LL BE SEPARATED FOR LIKE, A WHOLE HOUR!
His face startled me — his expression was torn, almost pained, and so fiercely beautiful that the ache to touch him flared as strong as before.
“Should I buy the last Harry Potter book tomorrow, or should I buy it today? Or should I indulge in the exquisitely original works of Christopher Paolini? Oh, how tormented I am! Angst! Angst!”
So Edward touches Bella’s face, then walks away…. except it’s all dramatic and drippily romantic. Bella oozes into the locker room, where everybody stares at her because she’s acting like a crazy person, a drunk, or possibly a junkie. Actually, drugs and alcohol would explain a lot of the appeal for this story. They should include a packet of weed with every copy of Twilight to dull the pain and rage that comes from reading it.
Reality didn’t fully set in until I was handed a racket. It wasn’t heavy, yet it felt very unsafe in my hand.
Moments later, I went on a bloody killing spree throughout the school with that deadly racket.
I could see a few of the other kids in class eyeing me furtively.
- They’re probably wondering where she bought such potent weed in such a small town.
- I’m sure we’re meant to think that everyone is wary of how clumsy she is, tee hee, since clumsiness counts as a flaw in this book.
- But no. Considering she’s zoned out, staggering and acting like she’s high, they probably just are wary of letting a drug addict handle the equipment.
So because everyone thinks she’s on drugs, the only person who wants to play with her is Mike. Bella, of course, thinks that it’s because she’s just SO endearingly clumsy, but I suspect it has more to do with him wanting in her pants
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep out of your way.” He grinned. Sometimes it was so easy to like Mike.
And by “sometimes,” she means whenever his existence happens to be convenient to her. The other 99.9% of the time, he sucks.
And of course, Bella keeps herself in the spotlight by doing ridiculously over-the-top stuff to convince us that she is soooooo clumsy: I somehow managed to hit myself in the head with my racket and clip Mike’s shoulder on the same swing. I honestly don’t know how that is possible unless she was lunging sideways at him while deliberately sticking her head in the way of the racket. So because Bella is SO SO SO CLUMSY she sits in the corner for the rest of the match, thus saving her from actually doing anything active.
I bet she did that on purpose. She’s not actually clumsy – it’s just put on so she won’t be bothered by other people.
By the way, Mike wins the game ALL BY HIMSELF, demonstrating that he’s an excellent athlete as well as being sweet, nice, attentive, attractive and considerate. Remind me again why Bella is supposed to be the Awesome Queen of Phoenix and he’s supposed to be the pathetic loser? Or why he’s not attractive and the creepy asshole loser is?
“You and Cullen, huh?” he asked, his tone rebellious. My previous feeling of affection disappeared.
Yes, clearly that previous appreciation for him had NOTHING to do with the fact that he was doing something convenient for her, and it vanishes the moment he ceases to be convenient.
By the way, this is yet another Mary Sue trait: nobody is allowed to dislike or feel neutral about any Sues. They MUST be loved, and anyone who doesn’t is an Evil Bitch/Bastard who deserves to be scorned and hated for it.
If you want a summing-up of a Mary Sue’s general attitude towards life, Galadriel will explain how they generally think:
“That’s none of your business, Mike,” I warned, internally cursing Jessica straight to the fiery pits of Hades.
Yeah, clearly it’s Jessica The Evil Bitch’s fault, when she and Edward have been wandering around together making googly eyes at each other. Nobody in the world could POSSIBLY have figured THAT out. It MUST be Jessica’s fault! How DARE she say anything to her boyfriend without getting Bella’s permission first?!
So Bella acts like a snarly bitch for no real reason, and Mike makes the excellent point that, “He looks at you like… like you’re something to eat.” So apparently Mike is athletic, attractive, sweet AND more observant than Bawla is, since he’s RIGHT. Edturd DOES want to eat her. And unlike Bawla, Mike has figured out that that is a BAD thing.
And Bella starts giggling hysterically for… no reason. I’m sure that will reassure everybody that she’s not on drugs and is totally sane.
After pissing off Mike, she runs out and instantly forgets about the entire exchange, thus rendering the entire scene COMPLETELY POINTLESS. I swear, this book is nothing but a series of pointless scenes that hardly ever have anything to do with each other, and most of which don’t actually DO anything. It’s like going to an office meeting on Friday, and trying to convince your boss that the brain-dead lumps in their chairs are actually brilliant dynamic go-getters.
I dressed quickly, something stronger than butterflies battering recklessly against the walls of my stomach,
That would be your bloodthirsty backbreaking evil mutant vampire fetus… oh wait, wrong book.
I was wondering if Edward would be waiting, or if I should meet him at his car. What if his family was there? I felt a wave of real terror. Did they know that I knew? Was I supposed to know that they knew that I knew, or not?
A better question would be: who the hell cares?! You know, there’s a reason why people don’t want to hear other people babble about their crushes… and it’s definitely not jealousy.
By the time I walked out of the gym, I had just about decided to walk straight home without even looking toward the parking lot.
Yes, because the guy who drove you there doesn’t have any kind of obligation to drive you back. Just assume that he plans to strand you there for no adequately explained reason.
But no, Edward is standing outside the door being all James Deany, and Bella wets herself yet again because he’s so perfect and gorgeous. Seriously, someone wake me when this chapter is over.
As I walked to his side, I felt a peculiar sense of release.
Nope, I’m not gonna say it. I refuse to give Stephenie Meyers the satisfaction of making an orgasm joke.
So while they’re having another boring pedestrian conversation, Edward spots Mike and starts getting pissed again because “Newton’s getting on my nerves.” “How dare he criticize me for regarding you as a piece of walking yummy meat! Doesn’t he know he should bow down and worship me along with the rest of the common sheep? Critical thinking SUCKS.”
And then Bella suddenly throws a tantrum because Edward was listening to Mike’s thoughts. Hasn’t she done this about sixty times already? He keeps reading people’s minds, Bawla keeps being horrified by it, and THIS IS NOT INTERESTING. It’s like those scenes in The Room where that guy keeps being shocked that a woman is seducing him… over and over.
And in case you’re wondering, it is NOT moral outrage on Bawla’s part that makes her pissed. Like Edward, she doesn’t give a damn about the moral ramifications of MIND-READING. No, she’s just embarrassed.
“You were the one who mentioned how I’d never seen you in Gym — it made me curious.” He didn’t sound repentant, so I ignored him.
Why would he sound repentant to HER? She’s not the one whose mind he raped.
So she stomps out to his car, still sulking for no explicable reason. Then she notices that boys are sitting around Rosalie’s car, drooling and dribbling and rubbing their bodies up against it like cats in heat. You know, acting the way Bella does when Edward is around.
None of them even looked up as Edward slid between them to open his door. I climbed quickly in the passenger side, also unnoticed.
HOW DARE THEY! Paying attention to a CAR rather than the Mighty And Amazing Queen Of Phoenix and the God of Sparkly Byronic Smolders!
Also, once again this doesn’t exactly support the idea that Edward radiates predatory scariness. If he were that frightening, I doubt they would be ogling Rosalie’s car and completely ignoring him. “I’m so scary! Be scared of me! I’m soooooo frightening that everyone around me cowers in fear! START COWERING! STOP PAYING ATTENTION TO THE CAR!”
“What kind of car is that?” I asked.
“I don’t speak Car and Driver.”
“It’s a BMW.” He rolled his eyes, not looking at me, trying to back out without running over the car enthusiasts.
“Like, it’s SO lame that you don’t know what a M3 is. You like, don’t know ANYTHING, girlfriend.”
“Are you still angry?” he asked as he carefully maneuvered his way out.
Yes, so angry that you started chatting about cars. And again, Smeyers hasn’t even bothered to tell us WHAT Bella is angry about. I assume that it’s because she’s SO embarrassed that Edward is peeping on her through Mike’s thoughts, but nothing is actually explained.
He sighed. “Will you forgive me if I apologize?”
“I’ll forgive you even if you laugh maniacally and say you’ll never stop! Because you’re hot and rich! Ravish me in your dorky car, pallid hottie!”
Bella tries to get him to promise that he won’t do it again but Edward just replies, “How about if I mean it, and I agree to let you drive Saturday?” A tough, smart heroine would stick to her guns and cancel their little trip to Seattle, or announce that she’s going solo. But of course we have Bella, a spineless twerp who immediately gives in to Edward’s amoral little idea.
His eyes burned with sincerity for a protracted moment — playing havoc with the rhythm of my heart
Does this guy do ANYTHING without smoldering? “Yes, I would like… smolder smolder… to look at your FABRIC SAMPLES… burn burn… and perhaps some… smolder … bathroom tiles. Do you sell… sexy smolder… BATHMATS?”
“And I’ll be on your doorstep bright and early Saturday morning.”
“And if you aren’t out by ten AM, I’ll drag you out to your truck by your hair.”
Bella unsurprisingly points out that dad might notice the oh-so-luxurious Volvo left in his driveway, which is Edward’s cue to act like an asshole again.
His smile was condescending now. “I wasn’t intending to bring a car.”
“I was planning to come on my little red tricycle! You get to ride in the sidecar!”
And even though Bella doesn’t know where he lives and already knows that he has super-speed, this answer confuses her. Plus, he waved a shiny object in front of her face, so that should keep her dazed for at least an hour.
I let it go. I had a more pressing question.
“Is it later yet?” I asked significantly.
He frowned. “I supposed it is later.”
This exchange would mean more if Smeyers would remind us what “later” involves.
“Are you going to put gas in the car?”
“Is it later yet?”
“I suppose it is LATER!”
dramatically pulls into a gas station
So anyway, they’ve already arrived at Charlie’s house… which is, weirdly enough, not referred to as Bella’s house as if she’s only a guest there rather than permanently residing there. So they’re going to make sure he doesn’t notice them by sitting outside having intense conversations that last FOREVER. Smart.
When I looked back at him, he was staring at me, measuring with his eyes.
Does this guy ever NOT stare? I mean would it kill him to just look at someone normally without making it all INTENSE? He must be pretty annoying during comedy routines.
“And you still want to know why you can’t see me hunt?” He seemed solemn, but I thought I saw a trace of humor deep in his eyes.
I know that eyes are supposed to be the windows to the soul, but Stephenie Meyers seems to think that they’re art-student movie projectors. Lots of overwrought emotions and pretentiousness, without any cuts. Edward’s eyes are Gerry.
So Edward asks if he frightened Bella, and of course she lies ineptly to him.
“I apologize for scaring you,” he persisted with a slight smile, but then all evidence of teasing disappeared. “It was just the very thought of you being there… while we hunted.” His jaw tightened.
Oh look, the first non-dickish thing he’s said to her. And it’s been… ELEVEN CHAPTERS! ELEVEN CHAPTERS OF ABUSIVE BEHAVIOR! He’s been acting like that for almost HALF THE BOOK and only NOW does he show the slightest hint of anything other than condescending assholish behavior! Someone kill me now!
So apparently Edward was just SO upset by the idea of Bella being there while he hunted that he treated her like crap. LOGIC! Apparently vampires who are hunting animals of any type basically do whatever their bodies want and don’t use their brains (but of course, they’re our intellectual superiors). Sounds like Bella would be a natural for this kind of thing.
“When we hunt,” he spoke slowly, unwillingly, “we give ourselves over to our senses… govern less with our minds. Especially our sense of smell. If you were anywhere near me when I lost control that way…” He shook his head, still gazing morosely at the heavy clouds.
“We might actually have sex before marriage, thus making us into raging nymphomaniacs unworthy of finding troo love! Even worse, we wouldn’t have sequels filled with sexual tension!”
I kept my expression firmly under control, expecting the swift flash of his eyes to judge my reaction that soon followed. My face gave nothing away.
I guess Kristen Stewart really WAS the right choice for Bella.
But our eyes held, and the silence deepened — and changed.
It turned PURPLE.
Flickers of the electricity I’d felt this afternoon began to charge the atmosphere as he gazed unrelentingly into my eyes.
To quote the great Chester A Bum:
“I want the vampire!”
“Because he STARED at me!”
“… you’re an idiot.”
It wasn’t until my head started to swim that I realized I wasn’t breathing.
Now THAT is something they definitely changed in the movie.
Seriously, can this woman ever learn to breathe without sucking it through her front teeth or her nostrils? Not everybody reacts to EVERYTHING by making loud breathy noises!
When I drew in a jagged breath, breaking the stillness, he closed his eyes.
“Bored now. I sleep.”
So Edward is getting way too turned on by gaaaaazzzzinnngggg into Bawla’s dull lifeless eyes… and no, I’m not sure why eye contact is supposed to make him so aroused. Except that he apparently hasn’t had sex, masturbated or even stared at an ass in over a century, so… I guess a light breeze will make him pop a tent.
So Bella gets out and the arctic draft that burst into the car helped clear my head. Lady, this is WASHINGTON. The arctic region is nowhere near this. Enough with Teh Drahmahz!
“Tomorrow it’s my turn.”
“Your turn to what?”
“Wear the maid costume and tie you up with police tape, of course!”
But no, tomorrow he wants to ask the questions instead of her PLEASE NOT MORE BORING POINTLESS DIALOGUE! And seriously, what does he need to ask? Bella is quite possibly the most boring person in the universe, and apparently everybody in town knows everything there is to know about her! What’s he going to ask, “Do you like chocolate or vanilla ice cream?”
I think this was probably an editorial mandate. See, by this point, Bella and Edturd know approximately NOTHING about each other, and have had maybe HALF a conversation about anything about their interests, hobbies, outlooks, beliefs, personal lives, histories or anything else. I say “half” because Bella did bitch about her mom before, even if Edturd didn’t give any information. That is ALL they’ve spoken about, except for
- Edturd’s a vampire.
- Bella needs him around because she’s a helpless baby kitten who needs to be controlled.
- Bella doesn’t know anything about cars.
So after being unspeakably creepy and showing off his Big Bad Vampire Teeth Which Aren’t Fangs So They’re Not Very Scary, Edward drives off. But Bella isn’t at all creeped out by his serial killeresque behavior. Why? Because that means he plans to drive her home again! Troo Luv!
That night Edward starred in my dreams, as usual. However, the climate of my unconsciousness had changed. It thrilled with the same electricity that had charged the afternoon, and I tossed and turned restlessly, waking often.
Just say you had a sex dream already, okay? It’s perfectly normal for teenagers.
When I woke I was still tired, but edgy as well.
“Edgy” is not the word that comes to mind when I think of anyone in Twilight.
I pulled on my brown turtleneck and the inescapable jeans, sighing as I daydreamed of spaghetti straps and shorts.
Yes, it’s SUCH a drag to wear winter clothes… in the winter. It SUCKS.
Also if she wore such skimpy clothes in Phoenix and is so besotted with sunlight, then HOW COME SHE DOESN’T TAN? Did she put on skimpy summer clothes and spend all day inside air-conditioned buildings? Even if you don’t lie out in the sun with oil all over your body, just walking around outdoors for awhile in HOT SUNNY AREAS will leave you with light tanning.
The answer: Stephenie Meyer is toilet-paper pale, meaning that her Sue has to be too, in defiance of logic. Also, she’s kind of racist, so her Sue must be the palest person alive.
So Bella eats breakfast and doesn’t talk to her dad, since parents are a necessary evil. Her dad randomly brings up the Seattle thing, because he’s hoping she’ll go to the dance, get drunk and probably wake up naked in someone’s backseat. Apparently he hasn’t figured out yet that being a Speshul Snowflake means not doing anything that might actually be fun, because Other People Are Lame.
“I’m not going to the dance, Dad.” I glared.
“Like, you are SO lame wanting me to actually have FRIENDS and a SOCIAL life instead of just obsessing on the Cullens.”
Her dad continues being concerned about Bella’s well-being, and she’s snooty and glares and barely talks to him about anything, even when he simply asks if anyone asked her.
Again, how is Bella supposed to be wise and mature and responsible? She is acting… EXACTLY the way every other bratty teenage girl does.
I sympathized with him. It must be a hard thing, to be a father; living in fear that your daughter would meet a boy she liked, but also having to worry if she didn’t.
- This moment would be more touching if she hadn’t been freezing him out and acting like a bitch about two sentences ago.
- And what “living in fear”? He has shown no serious thoughts either way about Bella’s love life. Certainly not “living in fear.” Hell, for all he knows, she had dozens of boyfriends in Phoenix and blew the whole football team.
- Hell, he’s barely even SEEN her since she was a baby. I don’t think he’s very invested in what she does.
How ghastly it would be, I thought, shuddering, if Charlie had even the slightest inkling of exactly what I did like.
“It would be AWFUL if he knew I liked creep serial-killer assholes who treat me like garbage and want to guzzle my blood like iced lemonade. It would SUCK if he got in the way of THAT!”
So of course the second Charlie leaves, Bella frolics out the door because Edward IMMEDIATELY pulled up. Yeah, smart move, vampire boy – either sit down the street from a cop’s house EVERY DAY, or speed down the street he lives on. What would happen if he forgot his wallet and came back to get it?
I bounded down the stairs and out the front door, wondering how long this bizarre routine would continue. I never wanted it to end.
“Because I like to pretend this is FORBIDDEN LURVE even though there’s no actual obstacles between us and us dating. I just like the random drama.”
He waited in the car, not appearing to watch as I shut the door behind me without bothering to lock the dead-bolt.
“I really don’t give a crap if someone robs my father’s house, because I won’t spend an extra second away from my Hot Rich Guy! Who cares about my dad?!”
He was smiling, relaxed — and, as usual, perfect and beautiful to an excruciating degree.
WE GET IT, you crazy bitch. He’s prettyful, he’s beautiriffic, he’s gorgealicious, and NOBODY CARES EXCEPT YOU.
“Good morning.” His voice was silky. “How are you today?”
“I’m doing my best impression of Jean-Claude. Want to hop in the back seat for some cold, hard, chafey sex?”
So they have another incredibly banal conversation about how Bella didn’t sleep, Edward didn’t either and MAN THIS IS SOOOOOO BORING. Stephenie Meyer may be the worst dialogue writer of the century, just because she writes SO MUCH dialogue with so little substance. And it’s boooooooooooooring. It’s like she’s terrified that even a single banal, dull-as-shit word her characters utter might not be read.
My forehead creased. I couldn’t imagine anything about me that could be in any way interesting to him.
That we can agree on.
“What’s your favorite color?” he asked, his face grave.
… are these two in kindergarten? What’s next, “What does your daddy do? Do you like ice cream? Wanna share my crayons?”
And seriously, Smeyer, you’re insisting that these two are experiencing deep troo eternal luv. But you’ve just highlighted that they don’t know the first THING about each other, not including the occasional rants that Bella spews out of the blue like a Tourette’s victim. The sort of thing you develop when you don’t know anything about the other person is ATTRACTION or LUST. Those can develop into love, but LOVE requires things like respect, communication and… not being a selfish asshole.
“What’s your favorite color today?” He was still solemn.
“Probably brown.” I tended to dress according to my mood.
I imagine she wears a lot of bland beiges and vague grays. What’s the color of self-absorption?
Edward is a dick about her Color Du Jour, and Bella’s explanation for liking brown? “Brown is warm. I miss brown. Everything that’s supposed to be brown — tree trunks, rocks, dirt — is all covered up with squashy green stuff here,” I complained. Does EVERYTHING end up segueing back into her hatred of Forks and her adoration for Edward? QUIT WHINING.
And you know what else is supposed to be brown? Shit. Like this book.
He seemed fascinated by my little rant.
“… and my dream guy will be PRETTY, and he’ll be hard like MARBLE, and he’ll be fascinated by every banal whine I utter…”
So Edward agrees with her… because her hair is brown. Excuse me, I have to puke now. And when they get to the school, Edward continues being creepy: “What music is in your CD player right now?” he asked, his face as somber as if he’d asked for a murder confession.
I want to know so I can dress up like them when I sit in the bushes watching you undress!
So we get a completely pointless scene where Bella tells Edward the name of the band she was listening to earlier, and of course since Edward and Bella are completely compatible, he has the exact same CD in his car. This scene is made all the more boring and pointless because we NEVER HEAR what the band name is. Also, she didn’t buy the CD according to her own tastes, which means that… he’s compatible with her stepfather.
Edward takes the entire day to grill Bella on every insignificant detail of my existence. Insignificant is right. I guess that this is Smeyers’ attempt to actually have them get to know each other, and I have to give her a tiny shred of credit because she’s at least TRYING…. probably because her editor forced her to. But it fails for two major reasons:
- It comes too late. We’ve already been assured that they are in Eternal Sparkly Happy Puppydog Hearts-and-Flowers Awesomer-Than-You’ll-Ever-Have Fairy Tale Instant Troo Luv. It’s hard to take the “getting to know you” thing seriously when the author has already made it clear that their luv is troo just because he’s pretty and she smells tasty, and this is just the icing on the cake.
- Because the way she describes this, Edward comes across as a stalker who is openly demanding the information from his victim instead of sneaking into her house and sniffing her panties. Actually, he might be doing that too.
Even Bella can’t believe how incredibly interested he is with someone as boring as her, but since their Wuv Is Troo she doesn’t get creeped out by his weird obsession with her.
Movies I’d liked and hated, the few places I’d been and the many places I wanted to go, and books — endlessly books.
Interestingly, no titles. Oh wait, the way that you indicate that your heroine is smart is to say she reads BOOKS. She doesn’t actually have to read any – it’s just to make her superior to others. Somehow I imagine Bella as having a giant box of Harlequin romances, which she rarely reads because the heroines aren’t passive and bland enough.
But the absolute absorption of his face, and his never-ending stream of questions, compelled me to continue.
Frigging CREEPY. Seriously, this has “controlling stalker male” written all over it. It does not indicate that he’s just trying to get to know her!
Mostly his questions were easy, only a very few triggering my easy blushes.
“Do you like having sex in trees?”
But when I did flush, it brought on a whole new round of questions.
… and why the hell? What are these questions that embarrass her so? Is he asking her bra size? Whether she’s on birth control? Whether she lets guys do it in the butt? And why would BLUSHING make him ask more questions?
Apparently he asked her what her favorite gemstone is…. which seems weirdly irrelevant since he isn’t apparently planning to give her jewelry, since jewelry is only worn by shallow sluts with actual sexual presence. Apparently she USED to like garnets, but because he has topaz (which isn’t usually “golden” as much as “ginger-ale-colored”) eyes, she changed her mind. That’s right, girls: all of your preferences and likes should center on a man!
“Tell me,” he finally commanded after persuasion failed — failed only because I kept my eyes safely away from his face.
“Or I will sneer at you again! Do as the Big Strong Male demands! I HAVE A PENIS AND DEMAND ANSWERS!”
And if you didn’t vomit the first time Bella said that she changed her favorite color to whatever Edward’s eyes are, don’t worry! Smeyers highlights it a SECOND time: “I suppose if you asked me in two weeks I’d say onyx.” “Because I don’t have any thoughts or opinions of my own. I’m just a dumb little woman!”
I worried it would provoke the strange anger that flared whenever I slipped and revealed too clearly how obsessed I was.
Yes, THAT is not abusive at all.
But instead Edward keeps demanding random answers again, INCLUDING during class. For some reason, none of the other students apparently notice that he’s glaring at Bella and demanding that she answer everything to his satisfaction. Because their WUV IS TWOO! And during biology class, they once again watch a movie so Bella can sit in the dark and be horny. Sure, the movie is all about vivisection, but Bella is good at ignoring things so she can dry-hump Edturd.
Gym passed quickly as I watched Mike’s one-man badminton show.
Hold on, why is Mike her partner? When you choose a partner in gym, that means you have to have the same partner for days afterwards? That makes no sense.
He didn’t speak to me today, either in response to my vacant expression
…. or the fact that I kept giggling, drooling and mumbling, “Edward iz hawwwwttt…. duhh huuuhhh huuuhhhh…”
Somewhere, in a corner of my mind, I felt bad about that. But I couldn’t concentrate on him.
“Yeah, I feel sorta bad about being a bitch to him and refusing to let him utter any kind of criticism… wait, no I don’t!”
That, by the way, was yet another pointless scene. I don’t know why Smeyers insists on going through the school day class-by-class because NOTHING HAPPENS. All that happens is that Bella is horny, Edward is creepy, and both of them hang around being weird while ignoring EVERYBODY else in the entire school.
His questions were different now, though, not as easily answered.
“He kept asking me all those hard questions about characters from those long books I said I read. So I made stuff up. I think I said that Moby Dick was a porn book about a bald pop star.”
He wanted to know what I missed about home, insisting on descriptions of anything he wasn’t familiar with.
“I want to know these things so I can build a beautiful prison for you out of all your favorite materials.”
We sat in front of Charlie’s house for hours, as the sky darkened and rain plummeted around us in a sudden deluge.
“… and the old lady next door called the cops and told them there was a creepy man holding me hostage in his car.”
So Bella describes Arizona in very vague terms, and as usual Smeyers really doesn’t evoke much of anything because she tries to be too poetic.
I tried to describe impossible things like the scent of creosote — bitter, slightly resinous, but still pleasant
I don’t caaaaarrreeeeee….
the high, keening sound of the cicadas in July
So Edward has NEVER lived anywhere with cicadas? They’re not rare, y’know.
the feathery barrenness of the trees,
So the trees are dead, and they have feathers on them. Gotcha.
the very size of the sky,
Exactly twenty-four feet and nine inches!
extending white-blue from horizon to horizon
Since when does the sky extend between anything else? Does Bella think that horizons work differently outside of Phoenix?
The hardest thing to explain was why it was so beautiful to me
Here’s an idea: don’t try. Opinions and points of view on abstractions like “beauty” don’t require explanations. They ARE. And if some guy demands that you explain, tell him to shove his perfect head up his perfect backside.
Finally, when I had finished detailing my cluttered room at home, he paused instead of responding with another question.
“Are you finished?” I asked in relief.
“Not even close — but your father will be home soon.”
“… and I was hoping to ask you what kind of feminine hygiene products you use.”
“Charlie!” I suddenly recalled his existence, and sighed.
Yes, little girls of the world. When you fall in love, you should ignore all your friends and family, because if you’re not completely obsessed with your Twoo Wuv (who will also be the first guy you date!) to the exclusion of all else, then you don’t REALLY love him!
“It’s twilight,” Edward murmured, looking at the western horizon, obscured as it was with clouds. His voice was thoughtful, as if his mind were somewhere far away.
Translation: See? See what I did there? I mentioned the title in the book, which only THOUSANDS of other authors have done! I’m a genius!
I stared at him as he gazed unseeingly out the windshield.
It took almost three hours before I realized he’d had a stroke.
I was still staring when his eyes suddenly shifted back to mine.
“Haven’t you figured out yet that staring is MY thing? Stop it now, stupid woman!”
So Edward starts waxing emo about how twilight is the vampires’ best time, but it makes them SAD because it’s the end of the day and all that bullshit. Of course, they’re immortal, so why would a day ending be sad? “Darkness is so predictable, don’t you think?” And what the hell does THAT mean? Aside from “I wanna get laid so I’m going to butter her up with ‘poetic’ crap that no actual guy would say”…
“I like the night. Without the dark, we’d never see the stars.” I frowned. “Not that you see them here much.”
Have you figured it out yet? Bella hates Forks because there are clouds and it rains and stuff. Yeah, I haven’t heard her whine about the climate enough. Can we just drop this whiny bint in the middle of the Sahara and just leave her to shrivel like a raisin in her beloved sunlight?
Bella asks if it’s her turn to be a creepy stalker tomorrow, and Edward informs her that no way, he’s still got questions about how she puts on her underwear to ask!
He reached across to open my door for me, and his sudden proximity sent my heart into frenzied palpitations.
“Then I dropped dead from a heart attack, and Edward’s attempts at CPR made my entire torso explode like an overripe melon. The end.”
But no! He sees something out in the rain! Oh, my heart cannot take the suspense! Whatever can it be?! Somebody fetch me my fainting couch! Could it be the mythical PLOT that so many have spoken of in hushed whispers? Or perhaps a sympathetic, mentally healthy and fully-developed character?
But no, it’s a… car… on the road. Shocking, huh? Bella gets out and Edward zooms away, and immediately crashes into a tree because the road is really wet.
And oh look, it’s Jacob the token Indian kid who serves as the “third wheel” in this totally pointless love triangle. And we’re introduced to Jacob’s dad, Billy Black, who has a really wrinkled leathery face and black eyes. Cuz he’s a middle-aged Indian, y’know? And what would bad vampire romances be without stereotypes? I’m amazed he doesn’t have feathers in his hair.
I knew him immediately, though in the more than five years since I’d seen him last I’d managed to forget his name when Charlie had spoken of him my first day here.
“… because I was too busy focusing on my fascinating self.”
So Billy stares at her, looking worried. And Bella of course jumps to the massive assumption that Billy must have already figured out who and what Edward is.
Had Billy recognized Edward so easily? Could he really believe the impossible legends his son had scoffed at?
The answer was clear in Billy’s eyes. Yes. Yes, he could.
Imagine that! Somebody who lives in the region actually believing that the vampires are… vampires! How can this be?
I mean, Bella heard one of their legends, crapped on 5,000 years of vampire legend in five minutes, and immediately decided that obviously the legends WERE true. She never really considered the possibility that they WEREN’T true, but somehow it’s shocking to her that someone ELSE might believe in them as well? Does this mean…. OTHER PEOPLE might be as smart as a person who reads Jane Austen? IT CANNOT BE!
Also, this is my mood right now:
… because I’m still not even halfway done with this shitfest. Pass the tequila.