Twilight Chapter 13

I still can’t get over the fact that we are halfway through this turd. HALFWAY! And I am just so BORED. I mean, even with The Eye of Argon SOMETHING was going on even if it was stupid and nonsensical and insane. Even Brisingr is better than this!

For cryin’ out loud, what is the point of a vampire book without blood, death and SOME kind of supernatural threat?

And the worst part is, there are a million things I could add to improve this horseshit.

Or even better, both Vikings AND ninjas at the same time. Can you imagine anything cooler? Assuming that they weren’t being led by Bruce Campbell?

Okay, I’ve put off dealing with it, but here is the most infamous and mockable part of the book:

Edward in the sunlight was shocking.

He was wearing a Gay Pride T-shirt! Even though non-straightness does not exist in this series!

I couldn’t get used to it, though I’d been staring at him all afternoon.

I love the random italicization of “get,” which would only make sense if Bella had said something like, “I wasn’t used to it.”

Also, I cannot believe that Smeyers wussed out on us in this scene. It really shows what a rotten writer she is. She builds up to this big dramatic moment for like TWO CHAPTERS with all these little hints…. and then timeskips so she doesn’t have to write an actual reaction or emotion or anything.

So anyway, what is the epic vampire secret of secrets? The one that makes them live up north and hide themselves from humans? The thing that, according to the author, has spawned millennia of misinformation because sparklepires are way awesomer than any other vampire ever conceived of?

They sparkle.




No, really. They sparkle. Like a bloodsucking disco ball.




I’m not kidding, people. This is for real. It’s in the book. Seriously. I could not make this up.




What. The. Hell.

His skin, white despite the faint flush from yesterday’s hunting trip, literally sparkled, like thousands of tiny diamonds were embedded in the surface.

No, no, I didn’t ask for further explanation. I get it. He sparkles. He’s glittery. If he grew a little horn on his forehead, he would be a toy unicorn. I understand perfectly.

I would like to add that this is possibly the gayest vampire I have ever heard of… and no, I don’t mean “gay” in the sense of the insulting slang term for “lame.” I would never use that term. When I say “gayest,” I mean men who are overwhelmingly sexually interested in other men. When I say that Edward is the gayest vampire ever, I mean that he SPARKLES. The only real-life males I have ever seen who glitter and sparkle like that are GAY, out, proud and determined to hurt your eyeballs with the blinding glitter!

The only other place where I have seen sparkling males is in anime, such as this guy…

… or this guy

And though both of those guys are straight (or at most bi), they’re not exactly paragons of traditional manliness. Hell, one of them is the gayest and most flamboyant straight man in the WORLD, to the point of play-flirting with other guys (assuming that he knows that they won’t seriously respond or that they loathe him enough not to respond). And THEY aren’t even the ones literally sparkling! It’s just an artistic conceit to show their attractiveness!

I mean, where does the author even GET this idea?! I know she claims she got it from a dream that she based this scene on, but what kind of weirdo comes up with SPARKLING VAMPIRES? How do “vampires” and “sparkling” even connect in a person’s mind?! It’s like wussified vampires specifically targeted at little girls who don’t want anything dark or scary, but DO want rainbow-pissing sparkling unicorn vampires who only prey on big scary predators!

He lay perfectly still in the grass, his shirt open over his sculpted, incandescent chest, his scintillating arms bare.

We get it, Smeyers. You raped the thesaurus and it later gave birth to this horrible book. And yes, “incandescent chest” is a phrase I plan to use as often as possible.

His glistening, pale lavender lids were shut,

… he has lavender eyelids? Is he wearing eyeshadow?

A perfect statue, carved in some unknown stone, smooth like marble, glittering like crystal.

… because nothing says sexual allure like cold hard rocks.

Now and then, his lips would move, so fast it looked like they were trembling. But, when I asked, he told me he was singing to himself; it was too low for me to hear.

Well, THAT was damn random. What’s he singing, “Here Comes The Sun”?

So Bawla sits there and wets herself with how hot he is. He’s prettier than the meadow, he’s too beautiful to be real, blah blah blah SO BORING.

I marveled again at the perfect texture, satin smooth, cool as stone.

Kind of like a PETRIFIED CORPSE.

When I looked up again, his eyes were open, watching me. Butterscotch today, lighter, warmer after hunting.

That’s not a sentence, you know. Also, “butterscotch” is not a sexy description, unless we’re talking about some highly rarefied foreplay.

“I don’t scare you?” he asked playfully, but I could hear the real curiosity in his soft voice.

Dude, you’re as frightening as a drunk hamster. Why would SPARKLING scare anybody? BABIES wouldn’t be scared by you.

He smiled wider; his teeth flashed in the sun.

Yeah, menacing. Keep telling us how scary you are.

So then Bella starts fondling his muscles while Edward lies there and sparkles a lot. I can’t believe I just wrote that.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he whispered. I looked to see his eyes watching me, suddenly intent. “It’s still so strange for me, not knowing.”
“You know, the rest of us feel that way all the time.”
“It’s a hard life.” Did I imagine the hint of regret in his tone? “But you didn’t tell me.”
“I was wishing I could know what you were thinking…” I hesitated.

Damn, this dialogue is banal. Can SOMEBODY please say something vaguely memorable?

“What are you thinking?”
“I was thinking I wonder what you’re thinking.”
“I was thinking I wonder what you’re thinking.”
“I was thinking I wonder what you’re thinking.”

And so on and so on.

“I was wishing that I could believe that you were real. And I was wishing that I wasn’t afraid.”
“I don’t want you to be afraid.”

Dude, she isn’t. She’s deliberately decided not to be scared of you cuz you’re hot. So seriously, enough wangst. Plus, NOBODY would be afraid of you. You SPARKLE.

“Well, that’s not exactly the fear I meant, though that’s certainly something to think about.”

Ya see? Nobody’s scared of you.

So Bella sits there drooling while Edward looks hot and smells hot. Smeyers practically has a written orgasm about how hot he is and HOLY CRAP this is boring, boring, boring.

Instinctively, unthinkingly, I leaned closer, inhaling.
And he was gone, his hand ripped from mine. In the time it took my eyes to focus, he was twenty feet away, standing at the edge of the small meadow, in the deep shade of a huge fir tree. He stared at me, his eyes dark in the shadows, his expression unreadable.

“Were you actually going to KISS a man you aren’t married to? Hussy! Harlot! Loose woman! How dare you actually do anything other than smolder with repressed sexual tension!”

This is another thing that really adds to the whole impression that Edward is secretly gay. The slightest hint of female sexuality, and he goes flying away as far as possible.

So eventually Edward wanders back, and makes the unfunny joke, “Would you understand what I meant if I said I was only human?” I would understand, but I wouldn’t think it was witty or anything. So after a million chapters of Bella deliberately choosing to ignore that HELLO THIS SHITBAG IS DANGEROUS, her fight-or-flight instinct finally kicks in… which apparently triggers Edward’s “asshole” instinct.

His smile turned mocking.
“I’m the world’s best predator, aren’t I? Everything about me invites you in — my voice, my face, even my smell. As if I need any of that!”

If he doesn’t need it, why would he have it? Makes no logical sense.

And seriously, it’s been established that people just wander around not noticing him, and quite a few people are able to resist his “inviting” self. If he were the world’s best predator, wouldn’t people NOTICE him more?

So he does a flashy display of how awesome his powers are: he does a lap of the meadow to show his supersonic Sue speed, he abuses some poor trees to show how strong he is, and Bella thinks about how hot he looks.

Unexpectedly, he was on his feet, bounding away, instantly out of sight,

So how does she know he’s bounding if he’s instantly out of sight? He could be tap-dancing out of sight.

“As if you could outrun me,” he laughed bitterly.

“PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE be impressed by my sooper-dangerous self! NOTICE ME!”

“As if you could fight me off,” he said gently.

So what? Smudge his mascara and he’ll run off screaming for a mirror.

I sat without moving, more frightened of him than I had ever been. I’d never seen him so completely freed of that carefully cultivated facade. He’d never been less human… or more beautiful. Face ashen, eyes wide, I sat like a bird locked in the eyes of a snake.

  1. TROO LUV… means you ogle someone while comparing them to a snake.
  2. So is Bella really admitting that she was an idiot to assume that she knew it all and that Edward MUST be lovely and kind and all that crap? Of course she isn’t.
  3. Excuse me, but does this mean that Stephenie Meyers thinks that the hottest, awesomest, sexiest, most deserving guy in the universe should be ACTIVELY TERRIFYING to his girlfriend/victim?
  4. Because if so, she is royally fucked up and I feel sorry for her husband (“Please, be menacing! Be scary! Act like you’re going to hurt me! IT TURNS ME ON!”).

Then Edward realizes that hey, maybe it isn’t a great idea to terrify your love interest into a heart attack when you’re only halfway through Volume 1 of Stephenie Meyers’ Secret Sexual Fantasies About Marble Penises.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, his velvet voice unintentionally seductive.

Dude, you’re still sparkling. You’re still not scaring anybody.

See that? You are doing that. And it’s not scary.

You want scary? See what Lara Raith does at the climax of Small Favor. Ending up a burned charred monster and healing yourself by EATING YOUR COUSIN while implicitly also having sex with her…. that’s scary. And we didn’t even SEE that.

“I promise…” He hesitated. “I swear not to hurt you.” He seemed more concerned with convincing himself than me.

Veeeeeerrrrryyyy reassurring.

“Please forgive me,” he said formally. “I can control myself. You caught me off guard. But I’m on my best behavior now.”

“No, please! I love it when you treat me like crap! Hurry and call me a bad girl! Spank me! Spank me hard! CALL ME A USELESS WHORE!”

Edward tries to be witty again, but since Smeyers is writing this it ends up falling totally flat. So now he feels bad about flaunting his Supah Vampire Powahz in front of Bawla, but it’s pretty obvious this is just his “I’m A Bad Boy, Please Don’t Fall For Me” act.

I looked at his smooth, cold hand, and then at his eyes. They were soft, repentant. I looked back at his hand, and then deliberately returned to tracing the lines in his hand with my fingertip. I looked up and smiled timidly.

… is this supposed to be charming? Because it’s not. I feel like I’m being bludgeoned with a giant club while someone yells, “YOU WILL BE THRILLED BY HOW ROOOOOMAAAANNTIC IT IS!” It’s especially unromantic because he was going out of his way to be freaky and scary a minute ago, but the moment he makes googoo eyes she forgets everything.

And then they…. oh forget it. You know what? When these two have a conversation that takes forever to go anywhere, goes over the same ol’ same ol’ turf, and just bores the brains outta me, I am going to post this:

I looked down at his hand and doodled aimlessly across his smooth, iridescent palm.

… that has to be some sort of new benchmark in HORRIBLE WRITING. Especially since Bawla is now apparently DRAWING on Edward’s oh-so-perfect self.

“How easily frustrated I am,” he sighed.

“But that’s not surprising, since I haven’t gotten laid in a whole century.”

I looked into his eyes, abruptly grasping that this was every bit as new to him as it was to me.

Possibly because neither one of them have ever dated before, because only sluts date the people other than their Troo Luv Soulmate.

As many years of unfathomable experience as he had, this was hard for him, too.

… especially since I’m 96% sure he’s gay. Or at least bi on the gay end of the scale.

And by the by, if you’ve read Midnight Sun, you’ll know that his “unfathomable experience” is… pretty much the same as Bawla’s. Despite his boundless wealth and eternal life, he basically goes to school over and over, whines until your ears bleed, and never goes anywhere interesting or does anything interesting.

“I was afraid… because, for, well, obvious reasons, I can’t stay with you. And I’m afraid that I’d like to stay with you, much more than I should.” I looked down at his hands as I spoke. It was difficult for me to say this aloud.
“Yes,” he agreed slowly. “That is something to be afraid of, indeed. Wanting to be with me. That’s really not in your best interest.”

JUST SHUT UP! How many times are they going to say the same stuff over and over again? It blows my mind that this crap actually went through the usual editing process and wasn’t cut down by half because the editor red-lined half the dialogue! It’s like there’s a brain valve that keeps you from spurting out the same crap over and over… and Stephenie Meyer’s valve is missing its flaps!

“I should have left long ago,” he sighed. “I should leave now. But I don’t know if I can.”

“My transfer request to the Dresden Files was rejected because the wizards couldn’t stop laughing when I said I was a sparkling vampire. The only urban fantasy series that would accept me was the Anita Blake series, and that’s just because THAT slutty slut slut Sue wants my sparklepeen outside of marriage. Like you, but with more back-scratching.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” I mumbled pathetically, staring down again.

“And I mean that, random meadow rodent!”

I agree with the rat. This IS putting me to sleep.

“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.”

So he craves her company too much to kill her. Did Smeyers just admit that her Stu should kill her Sue? Finally, something I can agree with.

And now, Edward is bipolar again and starts getting angry… apparently because Bawla has forgotten that he is SOOPER-DANGEROUS PLEASE BE IMPRESSED BY ME I’M DESPERATE FOR VALIDATION!

“It’s not only your company I crave! Never forget that.”

“I also crave your nonsparkly vagina. I totally do. I really, really do. I like girls. Sparkle sparkle.”

“Never forget I am more dangerous to you than I am to anyone else.”

Which is stupid, because dead is dead. At a certain point, “more” doesn’t mean anything. It’s like saying that a tiger is more dangerous than a lion – both of them can easily kill you, so who cares about the exact amount?

So Edward is menacing blah blah blah Bella is unscared blah blah blah and they start talking about ice cream.

“You know how everyone enjoys different flavors?” he began. “Some people love chocolate ice cream, others prefer strawberry?”

“And some of us prefer warm juicy blood. Because allegedly I am a vampire. So they tell me, anyway. Are you scared of me? Please be scared of me!”

“Sorry about the food analogy — I couldn’t think of another way to explain.”

“Nah, that doesn’t bother me. I love being compared to dessert by someone who drinks blood.”

So Edward comes up with a really, really crappy analogy: an alcoholic surrounded by the best liquor. It’s not an addiction, dumbass – blood should be a vampire’s NEED because they are VAMPIRES and they are supposed to drink blood. It’s like saying that human beings are addicted to water because we need to drink it and we crave it if we don’t have it.

“Maybe that’s not the right comparison. Maybe it would be too easy to turn down the brandy. Perhaps I should have made our alcoholic a heroin addict instead.”

Addiction is ADDICTION, dumbass. Are you seriously suggesting that alcoholics aren’t sufficiently addicted for your awesome self? YOU ARE AN IDIOT.

“So what you’re saying is, I’m your brand of heroin?” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
He smiled swiftly, seeming to appreciate my effort. “Yes, you are exactly my brand of heroin.”

… and you know what’s the really horribly depressing thing about that dialogue? Smeyers probably spent hours crafting those sentences… and they still suck.

“To Jasper, every one of you is much the same. He’s the most recent to join our family. It’s a struggle for him to abstain at all. He hasn’t had time to grow sensitive to the differences in smell, in flavor.” He glanced swiftly at me, his expression apologetic.

“I’m so VERY sorry that a member of my creepy pseudo-family can’t appreciate how awesome, unique and speshul your smell is! He’s SUCH a douche.”

So in the world’s LOOONNGESSSTTT BLAAAAANDDESST exposition scene, Edward reveals that Jasper’s never encountered a Yummy-Blooded Sue before, and Emmett has only encountered two. Oh, and he ate them. But since those weren’t Troo Lurv, I’m sure it will be totally different with Bawla and Edward.

“Even the strongest of us fall off the wagon, don’t we?”

We (and by we, I mean the readers) can only hope.

Edward insists that this will be TOTALLY different because Bella is the author’s Sue… I mean, because he KNOWS her. Yeah, that’s it. And of course, if you read Midnight Sun you’ll find that Emmett is much more realistic and less of a wussypussy about drinking human blood…. LIKE A VAMPIRE WOULD BE.

How calmly I could discuss my own death!

That’s because you’re a blithering moron.

“So if we’d met… oh, in a dark alley or something…” I trailed off.
“It took everything I had not to jump up in the middle of that class full of children and —” He stopped abruptly, looking away.

  1. Note how he calls EVERYBODY ELSE “children.” This would be fine, if they weren’t all Bella’s peers… but of course, she’s not regarded as a “child.” She’s Wise Beyond Her Years.
  2. Or he’s implying that he thinks of her as a child… and still wants to have sex with her.
  3. If Bawla’s blood is THAT alluring then there’s really no reason for him NOT to jump up and guzzle her like Gatorade after a football game. Drug addicts don’t work that way.
  4. So he says the only reason he can resist her yumminess is because she has such a captivating and awesome personality, and they’re not “strangers.” HAH. So how come when they WERE strangers, he could resist?

So Edward rambles about how he almost killed Bella on that first day, and how he was constantly fantasizing about killing her… and the only reason he didn’t is because of the family that we’ve seen him pay almost no attention to in this novel. Yeah, apparently in Stephenie Meyers’ sexual fantasies, the man desperately fantasizes about murdering her and anyone who’s standing nearby. TROO LURV!

So Edward swapped cars with his “daddy” and went off to Alaska, where he sat around being emo and then returned. Of course if you’ve read Midnight Sun, you’ll know that he was being annoyed by a Slutty Slut Slut who dared to be attracted to his virginal sparkly self. So blah blah blah he couldn’t read her mind blah blah blah he was so strong and awesome blah blah blah Bella is so interesting and unique while Jessica sucks blah blah blah.

“But you were too interesting, I found myself caught up in your expressions.”

Yes, Bella is a speshul speshul snowflake with a captivatingly complex personality… no wait, she’s awkward, bland and boring. And if movie Bella is any indicator…

… she doesn’t really have any expressions to fascinate others.

“Of course, then you were nearly crushed to death in front of my eyes. Later I thought of a perfectly good excuse for why I acted at that moment — because if I hadn’t saved you, if your blood had been spilled there in front of me, I don’t think I could have stopped myself from exposing us for what we are. But I only thought of that excuse later. At the time, all I could think was, ‘Not her.'”

This all sounds very dramatic until you realize that Edward is talking about licking her yummy blood off the street. Which is FRIGGING HILARIOUS! I would love to see that.

So Edward is emo blah blah blah Bella sits there being bland and stupid blah blah blah.

And I was filled with compassion for his suffering, even now, as he confessed his craving to take my life.

“That is so HOT!”

So now Edward whines about how his “siblings” yelled at him for doing his vampire thing IN PUBLIC in front of a conveniently oblivious crowd. Yes, he just RADIATES “predator”…. so much that people don’t even notice or remember his presence. I know that’s how I personally react to deadly predators. And Carlisle, Esme and Alice, since they are Capital-P Perfection, all agree with Edward rather than those selfish meanies.

“All that next day I eavesdropped on the minds of everyone you spoke to, shocked that you kept your word. I didn’t understand you at all.”

Dude, nobody would have believed her even if she had said anything. Enough with Teh Dramahz.

“And every day the perfume of your skin, your breath, your hair… it hit me as hard as the very first day.”

“And the perfume of your week-old sweat socks after gym… intoxicating! Not to mention the perfume of your stolen panties…”
“My what?”
“Uh, forget I said that.”

“And for all that,” he continued, “I’d have fared better if I had exposed us all at that first moment, than if now, here — with no witnesses and nothing to stop me — I were to hurt you.”

“Because I apparently value a person I just met over my entire family who has loved and supported me for decades. I’d rather make them suffer and have to flee their home when I finally kill you, because that shows I LOVE you. … I really suck.”

So Bella asks why, and Edward… doesn’t really answer. He just does his “sexy brooding bad-boy” thing and starts vomiting purple prose about how:

“Bella, I couldn’t live with myself if I ever hurt you. You don’t know how it’s tortured me.”

“The thought of you, still, white, cold… to never see you blush scarlet again, to never see that flash of intuition in your eyes when you see through my pretenses… it would be unendurable.”

“You are the most important thing to me now. The most important thing to me ever.”

Seriously, is there ANY MAN who would say this sort of verbal excrement unless a woman was whispering it into a little ear-phone to he could mindlessly recite it to someone else, like with Cyrano de Bergerac? Has there EVER been a man who would say that sort of thing? Maybe I’ve met the wrong kinds of guys, but I have never met a male of any age who would say ANY of this stuff.

In fact, all guys I’ve ever met would probably rather castrate themselves with a SPOON than say this sort of thing to… ANYONE. And no, I don’t buy the “he’s from old-timey times, so he’s okay with this! They all talked like this back then!”

Just because Colin Firth was hot in a wet shirt doesn’t mean that Mr. Darcy would spew this. Not even if he were drooling drunk. I could see him reciting it tonelessly from a novel right before mentioning how stupid it is, but not actually saying it and meaning it.

People of the world: This is not how men act, think, talk. This is how soppy immature women WANT them to act, so they write bad romance novels in which men spew drivel like this so that the author’s Sue can have her colossal ego stroked because she alone is so desirable to the sensitive Ken doll. VOOOOOOOOOMIIIIIIITTTT!!!!!!!!!!

My head was spinning at the rapid change in direction our conversation had taken.

I know the feeling.

From the cheerful topic of my impending demise, we were suddenly declaring ourselves.

…. huh? I’m sorry, what is being said here? Is that even grammatically correct?

“You already know how I feel, of course,” I finally said. “I’m here… which, roughly translated, means I would rather die than stay away from you.”

Again, this is one of those devastatingly horrible pieces of dialogue which is made even worse because you intuitively know that Stephenie Meyer not only worked hours on that shit line, but she probably rolled around in ecstasy afterwards because she thought it was SO AWESOME.

I frowned. “I’m an idiot.”
“You are an idiot,” he agreed with a laugh.

Haha, what a charming little chump you are! What a delightful little dumbass! What a lovely little lameduck! Haha! It’s charming! See how charming it is that Bella is stupid?

And since Bible quotes make everything “deep,” Edward randomly mentions, “And so the lion fell in love with the lamb…” Which, by the way, is not the right quote. Guess what, people! The famous Bible quote about the lion and the lamb DOES NOT EXIST. If you’ll check the actual quote from Isaiah 11:6 and the one from Isaiah 65:25, you will find that it says NOTHING OF THE FUCKING SORT. It says that the lamb will live/eat with the WOLF, the lion will eat alongside cattle, and there’s no mention of falling in love. Which would be gross anyway, wolves having weird interspecies pedophile sheep sex. Ew!

If you absolutely MUST inflict clumsy Bible quotes on us, actually look up the damn quotes and make sure they actually work. This just makes Edward look even stupider. I know a lot of people don’t know that, but somebody who’s touted as a genius who’s above all our lowly asses should know better. FAIL.

I looked away, hiding my eyes as I thrilled to the word.

… which word? Lion? Lamb? In? With? Bella is clearly very easily thrilled.

“What a stupid lamb,” I sighed.
“What a sick, masochistic lion.”

Wow, so not only did Edward get the quote ALL WRONG but both of them missed the whole damn point of the passage which he apparently never read because he GOT IT WRONG. The lion and the lamb have nothing to do with each other, which yanks the rug out from under this tortured metaphor. And the whole point of it is not that two totally incompatible animals fell in love (WHICH THEY DIDN’T) but a depiction of an idyllic world where animals (presumably metaphorical humans) live in peace and harmony and don’t eat each other.

IDIOTS. Don’t quote a holy book unless you actually READ it and even vaguely understand it. GAH!

So they have another incredibly boring conversation, in which Eddie reminds us that Twilight vampires are… not really scary at all, but like to pretend that they are.

“Most humans instinctively shy away from us, are repelled by our alienness… I wasn’t expecting you to come so close.”

Uh, there’s absolutely no evidence that any humans shy away from them or are repelled by them. Not only has Eddie apparently been asked out by girls like the oft-bashed Jessica, but most people don’t even seen to notice him or pay any attention to him. In fact, earlier Eddie made his Melodramatic Announcement that everything about him attracts his victims… so how can they come closer and shy away at the same time?!

It sounds less like Edward is an OOHSCARY predator extraordinaire, and more like he’s a loser who sits in the corner contemplating how mad, bad and dangerous to know he is, and how everybody avoids him because he’s just so TERRIFYING. Everyone else, meanwhile, doesn’t know he exists.

And yes, this is confirmed in Midnight Sun. Edward is convinced that he terrifies everyone… and gets all pissy and butthurt when everyone ignores him. Not only is nobody scared of him, but nobody even notices him.

“And the smell of your throat.” He stopped short, looking to see if he’d upset me.

Uh… what does a throat smell like? Does it smell dramatically different from the rest of the body?

I sat very still, the chill of his touch a natural warning — a warning telling me to be terrified. But there was no feeling of fear in me. There were, however, other feelings…

It’s called sexual arousal. Don’t bring it up if you’re not going to say the word.

So blah blah Bella is sooper-attractive blah blah Edward is hawt blah blah and he listens to her heart for no reason. Oh, and Bella has no boobs. Edward has his head pressed against her chest so he can hear her heart, and… apparently Smeyer is ignoring the fact that a woman’s breasts are usually over her heart, so you can’t do that without jamming your head into her boob.

Well, that’s a sexualized body part, and we can’t have anything even slightly sexual happening.

I listened to the sound of his even breathing

… wait, wut?

Okay, what exactly ARE Smeyers’ vampires? Are they supposed to be the living dead? Are they some kind of mutants? Is this some kind of weird disease? How about a demonic mass infection like in Anne Rice’s works? WHAT ARE THEY? Apparently he’s breathing so he’s presumably still alive, but… what the hell is he?

Without revealing much more, even Smeyers doesn’t seem to know what her vampires are – she makes them sound like biological mutations, but then talks about how becoming a vampire makes your heart stop beating and so on. Then again, this woman also claims that her vampires’ body fluids are ALL replaced by venom (except semen, apparently), and have diamond skin (HUGE BIOLOGICAL FAAAAAAIIIIILLLLL). I bet she hasn’t even thought about what the hell they are.

“It won’t be so hard again,” he said with satisfaction.
“Was that very hard for you?”

Does it make me filthy-minded that my first thought was “that’s what he/she said”?

“Not nearly as bad as I imagined it would be. And you?”
“No, it wasn’t bad… for me.”

Please, stop giving me fodder for sex jokes. Smeyer can’t possibly have been so stupid that she didn’t know what this sounded like.

He smiled at my inflection. “You know what I mean.”


So blah blah Edward is perfect/flawless/icy/chagrin/bronze/topaz.

he half-smiled — “as you are not addicted to any illegal substances, you probably can’t empathize completely.”

How little you know of her, Eddie-girl! She… takes illicit Nyquil when she DOESN’T EVEN HAVE A COLD! That’s the kind of hopeless junkie she is!

“But…” His fingers touched my lips lightly, making me shiver again. “There are other hungers. Hungers I don’t even understand, that are foreign to me.”

Like wanting to have sex with a girl instead of Carlisle. Seriously, that’s something he’s never done before.

And I’m only half joking. Apparently Smeyers thinks it’s ideal to never have any kind of sexual attraction to ANYBODY who isn’t your destined eternal soulmate. I don’t know what the HELL that is about, but it’s messed-up. It doesn’t make you some kind of depraved whore to merely be attracted to people, but she seems to think that feeling a physical attraction to someone is the same as leaping at them genitalia-first.

“I may understand that better than you think.”

“I’m just as abnormally sexually repressed as you are!”

“I’m not used to feeling so human. Is it always like this?”
“For me?” I paused. “No, never. Never before this.”

How romantic. He’s divorced from human feelings like love, and she’s just admitted that she’s just as bad.

Edward wangsts while it’s getting dark outside, meaning they’ve been here ALL DAY since they left the house at perhaps 9 a.m. I’m sure Charlie hasn’t noticed her absence at all, since the stars are aligning so that Bawla can spend all day with a guy who regales her with tales of how much he wants to kill her.

“Can I show you something?” he asked, sudden excitement flaring in his eyes.
“Show me what?”

“I’m giving you three guesses, and at least one of them is X-rated and sparkles.”

“I’ll show you how I travel in the forest.”

Wow, that wasn’t my guess. BOR-ING.

“Will you turn into a bat?” I asked warily.
He laughed, louder than I’d ever heard. “Like I haven’t heard that one before!”
“Right, I’m sure you get that all the time.”

  1. Ha. Ha. HAH.
  2. Yes, Smeyers, it’s funny when you crap on vampire legend, because yours is SO much cooler.
  3. Seriously, does she think shapeshifting is sillier than SPARKLING?
  4. No, he really shouldn’t get that all the time. Because nobody knows he’s a vampire except other vampires. He’s not even a GOTH.

“Come on, little coward, climb on my back.”

Clearly this is a loving and affectionate relationship. Dick.

So we get a really weird scene where… Edward picks Bawla up and gives her a piggyback ride. Yes, that’s very romantic and sexy… wait, no it’s not, it sounds silly and unintentionally comedic. What kind of vampire gives anybody a piggyback ride?!

“I’m a bit heavier than your average backpack,” I warned.
“Hah!” he snorted. I could almost hear his eyes rolling. I’d never seen him in such high spirits before.

Yes, you can always pinpoint when someone is in high spirits because they act like a huge douchebag to you.

So Edward starts running with Bella… piggyback. PIGGYBACKING IT through the woods, which saps any small hints of coolness from the narrative. Yes, Smeyers tries to make it sound ubercool and atmospheric… but it’s PIGGYBACK RIDING. This is something you do with little kids.

“Exhilarating, isn’t it?” His voice was high, excited.

So apparently he not only carries her piggyback, but he considers that a turn-on. Weirdo.

But poor delicate Bella got motion-sick from the Epic Piggyback Ride, which looks almost as silly in the movie as it sounds here. So Edward looks after her because she’s such a fragile wilting flower who of course doesn’t realize that.

“Hah! You’re as white as a ghost — no, you’re as white as me!”

I thought she was supposed to be that white to begin with, since we’re told repeatedly how pasty and pale they are. Almost as pasty-white as Anita Blake.

“Remember that next time.”
“Next time!” I groaned.
He laughed, his mood still radiant.

“Haha, what a great boyfriend I am! I plan to deliberately do shit to make you uncomfortable, and I think this is funny! Haha! Next I’m going to poke you in the butt with skewers!”

And he was right there, his face so close to mine. His beauty stunned my mind — it was too much, an excess I couldn’t grow accustomed to.

Take a shot. Actually, take several – it’s the only way to dull the pain.

So after that, Smeyers throws a shocking and unexpected twist at us: Edward kisses Bawla! EEEEEEKKKKSSSS! I mean, they’ve only been talking for A SOLID CHAPTER AND A HALF, touching each other, saying half-veiled sexual things and talking about their lust for each other! Who would ever have GUESSED that they would actually touch lips?!

And then his cold, marble lips pressed very softly against mine.

I know that when I’m feeling horny, I lie awake dreaming of getting kissed by cold hard lips… because I’m a freak with a marble fetish.

Sorry, I just imagined what it was like to be Smeyers.

“He’s pretty, naked and marble. Totally my type!”

What neither of us was prepared for was my response.

Suddenly the demon Sammael arose, and I tore Edward’s screaming diamond face from his skull, laughing maniacally as my demonic lord took command of my scrawny weak body…

Blood boiled under my skin, burned in my lips.

…. and immediately had an anime-style nosebleed.

Actually, Bawla starts getting all hot and heavy, grabbing Edward and trying to French him on the spot. She claims it’s because she’s breathing in his heady scent, but who actually opens their MOUTH to smell something? And Edward, being a perfect idealized Mormon boy, immediately draws away in horror and pushes Bella away, for she has a yicky vagina and girl germs, and he is a Righteous Mormon Boy. Teh Horrorz! Doesn’t she know that open-mouthed kissing is verboten?!

This introduces another disgusting attitude of Smeyers’: her attitude of male/female sexuality. She apparently buys into the archaic belief that women are all wanton sluts who are always panting for sex, and the only thing that keeps them in line is a strong-willed, pure-hearted man who will force them to keep their chastity belts on and reject their evil tempting advances. This basically happens until halfway through the last chronological book – Bella wants sex, Edward tells her no no no, they must be wed before they have violent rapey vampire sex. Even after they get married, she’s the rough-sex-lovin’ temptress who wants his sparkly peen, and he’s trying to abstain for her own good.

Excuse me, I have to chew on some furniture to release my rage.

Really, the only other explanation for this depiction of sexuality is that Edward is secretly more interested in men than women, and he’s frightened by Bella’s sexuality because… it might mean he’s confronted by a vagina and expected to have sex with it. It would certainly explain why, even after they get married, he does whatever he can to avoid sex with her. His take on sexuality, where he wants to bang a girl but is scared witless by her vagina or any signs of active sexuality, is SO FUCKED UP that psychologists could spend years working on it.

And I felt all the more besotted by him. It would cause me physical pain to be separated from him now.

EPIC FORESHADOW for the shitfest that is New Moon. Brace yourself.

So blahblahblah talking about driving blahblah talking about trust blahblahblah Bella refuses to let Edward drive the truck because he’s a maniac.

He might have let me pass if I hadn’t wobbled slightly. Then again, he might not have. His arm created an inescapable snare around my waist.

So what, is he going to beat her up if she continues refusing to give him the keys? She said NO, asshole. Try actually listening for once.

“Bella, I’ve already expended a great deal of personal effort at this point to keep you alive. I’m not about to let you behind the wheel of a vehicle when you can’t even walk straight.”

“Because obviously you driving badly is all about ME and what I will allow. And you OWE me the right to control your life because I’ve saved your scrawny ass from a couple of contrived perils. Give me the keys or I will slap you with my ring hand, woman! Do as the big strong man commands!”

“Besides, friends don’t let friends drive drunk,” he quoted with a chuckle. I could smell the unbearably sweet fragrance coming off his chest.
“Drunk?” I objected.
“You’re intoxicated by my very presence.” He was grinning that playful smirk again.

Okay, the badness of that dialogue requires another animal motivational picture, with an innocent creature whose face can convey the soul-crushing horror I feel deep inside.

“I can’t argue with that,” I sighed. There was no way around it; I couldn’t resist him in anything.

That’s right, Bawla! Do whatever the man says. Give up your free will, because true love means no free will! You can’t have both!

“Take it easy — my truck is a senior citizen.”
“Very sensible,” he approved.

… huh? Is he saying that it’s very sensible to take it easy? To have a truck that’s a “senior citizen”? WHY CAN’T SMEYERS WRITE DIALOGUE?!

“And are you not affected at all?” I asked, irked. “By my presence?”

“Regardless,” he finally murmured, “I have better reflexes.”

What the hell are they talking about?! I don’t understand what they’re saying! It’s like these people just say random things that don’t really connect!

“I smell like flowers.”
“Anyway, I’m a sparkly vampire.”
“I’m dazzled by you.”
“Doesn’t matter, I am a banana.”

These things are sort of vaguely on the same subject, but WHAT ARE THEY SAYING?!


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