My Grievance with Twilight

So, up until about a week ago, I had completely avoided the Twilight phenomenon. I hadn’t read a single book, nor seen a single film. Oh sure, I participated in the widespread hatred of the franchise: I watched YouTube parodies, supported the hatred exuded by my fellow English majors, and laughed at the thought of vampires that sparkle. Yes, I admit that having not read a book or seen I film I had no right to be a part of this movement of parody and frustration.

Well, now I do have that right.

Since I didn’t have any required classes to take during my last semester of college, I went for classes that looked fun and/or interesting. Falling under both of these categories was Introduction to Imaginative Literature, an lower-division general English class, being taught by my absolute favorite professor at SUU, Kyle Bishop. Each semester, the specific topic of this class changes: some semesters it’s been science fiction, in the fall it was superheroes, and this semester was, you guessed it, vampires. Which meant that the class reading list included all the movers and shakers of the vampire genre: Dracula, Carmilla, I Am Legend (I don’t care what the Will Smith film says, in the book they are called vampires), Interview with the Vampire, even a couple of episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. To round out our list, of course we had to include the most popular incarnation of vampires of recent years if not of all time, Stephenie Meyer’s original that started the craze, Twilight.

And Ms. Meyer, I have a bone to pick with you. Because while I figured I wouldn’t like it, turns out I actually hate it even more than I expected. Now, before I begin with my greatest issues with this story that has inexplicably captivated so many, I would like to point out one important matter. While I do not think Twilight is a good book by any stretch of the imagination, it is an important book. Why? The same reason anything as popular as Twilight has been is important in the discourse of literature: it provides insight into the mind of the society that produced and received it. Obviously with millions of adoring fans, something in Twilight resonates with people. I shudder to think of what that might be, but by uncovering it, perhaps we can understand a little bit more about who we are as people. So, just to review, I am not attempting to discredit the opinions of those who like this book as invalid. You are entitled to your opinion as much as I am.

Now on to my opinion. (And by the way, I’m only talking about the one piece of this phenomenon I’ve actually experienced: the first novel, the one actually called Twilight. We’re not even talking about the movie here). My issues with this book can be summed up in three simple elements: the character of Bella, the character of Edward, and the utterly dysfunctional relationshiop between them.

First up, Bella. I’m not sure where Meyer was going with this. My guess is that “Bella Swan” was meant to be some take on “The Ugly Duckling,” and, of course, there’s the clear connection to Beauty and the Beast. Here’s the largest problem with Bella, though: she could quite possibly be the most narcissistic character I have ever encountered in a book. What’s more, she’s unapologetically narcissistic. Literature is full of these kinds of characters; best example I can think of is Daisy Buchanan from The Great Gatsby. However, Daisy’s vapid and self-centered ways are not presented in a good light. She’s presented as someone who recklessly smashes up lives and people and gives no thought to picking up the pieces. Since Twilight is presented in the first-person perspective of Bella, we as readers have to accept that persona, which at times is flat-out nauseating: “I have to move to Forks, even though my mom said it was my choice; I’m so self-sacrificial like that. And I hate Forks, even though everyone here is really nice to me, especially my dad, who’s a really nice guy, he bought me a truck, but our relationship is hopelessly awkward regardless. And I’m so worried that no one will like me at school, but actually almost everyone does, including three boys who are falling over themselves for me. But still, I hate living here–oh wait, there’s a boy who seems to hate me…I’m in love with him.”

Do you see my problem here? Now, I know what you’re going to say. “But Blake, this is the mind of seventeen-year-old girl.” First of all, if that’s true, I weep for the future. If any teenage girls are reading this, please do not accept this as the standard by which your age group is judged. Do me a favor and work to change it. Second, a key element of Young Adult literature (which this is, all you 30-40 something women who are obsessed) is a concept known as bildungsroman, which is just a fancy German word for coming-of-age, which is a term people throw around a lot, but don’t seem to understand. The whole point of coming-of-age is that the character moves from childhood to adulthood by losing some of their more childish characteristics and becoming a mature adult. Is there even a hint of Bella progressing as a character? Does she gain any new knowledge, grow as individual, or get over her limited adolescent perspective? Not really. “But Blake!” you might be screaming, “she puts her own life at risk for another person!” Right, and who is that person she does this for? Which brings me to problem number 2:

Edward. Marble statue, greek god, Adonis, wonder boy. My biggest problem with this guy is that while Bella goes on and on about his every perfection (to the point of ridicule, in fact. She quips if there’s anything he’s not perfect at), she seems to be perfectly content with some of the more disturbing tendencies he exudes. First, he seems incapable of remaining on a single emotion for longer than five minutes. He’s angry, he’s charming, he’s brooding, he’s murderous, he’s funny, he’s protective, he’s arrogant, he’s mopey…all in the space of a single page. Second, he’s both controlling and manipulative. The moment the book went too far with me on this point was when Bella tries to drive herself home and he literally drags her to his car. Oh yeah, real romantic. Third is his addictive personality. For those of you who aren’t aware, vampires have basically always been an analogy for sex. Think about it (and I’m trying to be as non-graphic as possible)–the teeth of a vampire penetrate the flesh of another, and an exchange of bodily fluids occurs. So while everyone thinks it’s all noble of the Cullens to be so-called “vegetarians,” the underlying idea is that they’re sexually repressed. This is further complicated when Edward tells Bella he used to feed on humans, and he’s never wanted a human as badly as he wants Bella. So, if we’re extending the analogy, that means that Edward is a recovering sex addict being tempted by Bella. Even if you don’t agree with the sex analogy, Edward flat out says that Bella is like his heroin, and he’s a recovering addict. Why do people find this romantic? Of course, Bella is more than willing to overlook all these flaws. Why? Because he’s gorgeous. I challenge anyone to find anything in Twilight that suggests any other excuse Bella has for why she can disregard Edward’s flaws. In fact, I challenge anyone to find anything that suggests she recognizes these flaws. That’s right girls: if you find a man who’s beautiful and rich, latch onto him because those two things can make-up for any issues, however dangerous, that he might have. Even better, don’t even look for his flaws, or ignore them–they’re not important because remember, he’s gorgeous.

Thus we come to the relationship, which we’ve already talked about a little. So, Bella is first attracted to Edward because he’s gorgeous. Edward is first attracted to Bella because he wants to drain her blood more than anyone he’s ever met. Oh yeah, this is a match made in heaven. So the over-a-century-old Edward, who by now must have gained a lot of wisdom in his long life, or at least been taught a lot by his pseudo-father Carlisle, would know he should probably not go near this girl at all. But no…he saves her from a car accident–not because he didn’t want to see her hurt, but because if she had bled, he wouldn’t have been able to resist lapping up her blood. Again, so romantic. And even if he had to save her, he perhaps could have given her the cold shoulder or been a jerk to her so she’d stay away…wait, that is what he did. I forgot, Bella is a masochist who is obsessed with causing herself pain and chasing after people who are awful to her while shunning people who love and care about her. Of course, that doesn’t stop Edward from telling her (in essence) “Stay away from me, I’m dangerous…but don’t. because I think you’re fascinating.” Meanwhile, Bella, who seems unable to distinguish between hormonal attraction and actual affection, is convinced she is in love with Edward. Again, why? Because he’s gorgeous. So she’ll continue to flat-out lie to her father, her friends, and anyone else who displays any genuine concern for her, all in the name of a boy she’s known for less than three months.

Honestly, I could go on, but I’m almost at 2,000 words, so I’ll stop. The point is, if this had been a cautionary tale to young teenage girls (Hey girls! See this relationship? Don’t be like this!), then I could give it a bit more credit. But it’s not. Young girls idolize Edward, and many young men want to be Edward…something is definitely wrong here. The only question left for me is if I can possibly gut it up to read through the others so I can be fully capable of ranting about what I consider to be a highly suspect and disturbing book.

-Blake

Saudade

The land of Blake has not been the happiest place recently. In fact, quite a bit has been amiss in the land of Blake. For those of you just tuning in, I wasn’t chosen as the graduation speaker for the class of 2012. Since then, I also broke a rim on my car, it snowed all day Saturday, and looming before me is the inevitable m0ment of my graduation, that moment when I’ll have to face the real world.

When most people hear about my impending graduation, they express how excited I must be or how excited they would be if they were in my situation. Such a response has happened several times in my life. Just before high school graduation, while many talked about how much they couldn’t wait to leave, I could only think of what I was losing by leaving high school. When I went on my mission to Brazil, people would tell me how exciting it was, and the thought that ran through my head every time was: “Oh yeah? You think it’s so exciting? Okay, then I’ll let you get on a plane and fly to the other side of the world to a place where you know no one and can’t even speak the language knowing you’ll won’t see your family again for another 700 days and then you tell me how exciting it is.”

And so it is with my college graduation. You know what? While I’m happy to be finished, and happy to have accomplished a bachelor’s degree, I’m not all that excited about leaving SUU. Cedar City, for all its mediocrity and simpleness, has been my home for four years; leaving this place means everything that happened here is over–I won’t be an undergrad ever again. I suppose I’m just sentimental, but as much as change means that something new has started, it also means that something has ended, and may never return.

The best way I can think to describe this feeling is a word I learned in Brazil: saudade. No, I’m not going to tell you what it means…there is no adequate translation in English, or any language as far as I know. But once upon a time I decided to try and explain what it means; I’m not sure if I’ve done this beautiful word justice. But the results of this effort will, thankfully, be published in this year’s Kolob Canyon Review, the art and literature magazine published each year by SUU. For those of you faithful enough to read my blog, I present a sneak look at my published piece, and invite anyone who will be in Cedar on Wednesday the 18th to attend the reading of selections from theKCR, where mine and others’ excellent works will be read.

“Saudade”

In moments saudade comes back. The simple sound of an acoustic guitar in a minor key deafens my mind with soulful wails of sertanejo. That unmistakable stench of sewage grounds my feet on parallelipipido. The mere sight of those faces, those haunting faces, pulls me back to where I found them.

For me, these are only moments. They fade before I even feel their gnawing ache. They pass into what was–and I don’t know where they’ve gone. Yet I know they are out there–in truth, they’re not just moments.

Two years in the endless heat of an area that even natives find uncomfortably warm. Hot sunny days, sultry nights, muggy and humid rain, wind that didn’t cool—it merely stirred up the heat and threw it in your face. Two years with tap-water that wasn’t ever hot, wasn’t ever cold, and definitely wasn’t ever drinkable. Two years with clothes drying on a line, slacks with frayed cuffs and white shirts with eternal collar rings. Two years of shoes breaking to pieces, hair cut too short, and the occasional slip and fall in the muddied streets.

That is where I first learned this odd little word: saudade. No equivalent exists for it here, or anywhere else in fact. Ever since those two years I have vainly attempted to explain what it means–of course, I can’t. Nor has any explanation I’ve found from others come close. I don’t think I can even call saudade a word: it isn’t that simple.

Those people—those indelible people. Content with their rice-and-bean lives, but always hungering for something—anything. Never hurrying, never rushed, yet as concerned about the twenty-year-old American on their doorstep, soaked through his socks by sweat and rain, as they would be about their own child. Feeding him until he feels sick while they disregard how much is left for their own family. Watching over him when yet another parasite keeps him in bed on a random Tuesday. Listening to his every word, even with three crosses hanging in their room. Of course, they weren’t all like this. I hardly ever think about the others, though. I didn’t lose the others–they were never mine.

How have I forgotten? I’ve forgotten the samba, the feijoada, the calor. I’ve forgotten them. I made them moments—moments that come back when I realize that nothing before or since has been as real. As alive. How have I forgotten?

I remember when it bothered me more. I remember my first week back, mowing the lawn some mundane morning and wanting to sit on the grass and cry. I remember how empty that first room back at college felt—if only because there was only one bed. I remember how long I would spend reaching back through photos, emails, and letters. I remember the hollow ache, feeling that who I was becoming was nothing like what I had become.

Back then I realized what had happened. I realized that I had left behind not just a separate life, but a separate reality, a separate existence. A cut like that runs more than deep. I knew the cut was only the beginning, that it would all slowly fade away. Fade into the background of the transcripts and essays, the Friday nights and Monday mornings, the snooze button and hot showers, the rush and hurry, until it was all too easy to overlook it all; like the drawer of a dresser filled with everything that used to matter to you—the one you hardly look at anymore. Everything faded.

Except for that one word: saudade. Then the moments find me, they come come back, reminding me of everything I left behind. They brush by me, allowing me to see their faces just long enough, then disappear, and I’m left with that awful certainty—something is wrong, something I can’t make sense of, some part of me is gone. So I’ll spend maybe a thought or two looking for them again, trying to find in what corner of me I left those lingering ties to that other world. And in my search the emptiness overwhelms me again—not just because something is lost, but because I let them go, and I know I’ll never find them again because I’ll never look hard enough.

So I come back to now. I come back, because now is not going to hurt. I could find them again. I know I could, but I also know that finding them means facing not ever having them again. Even if I bought a plane ticket, found all of those familiar faces again, and did everything I could to bring back those surreal two years, it would never be real again; it wouldn’t be my life, my everything.

So I let them fade, hoping that somehow I can make of now what they were. And, almost always, I can convince myself that now is more important. But that confidence never lasts, because every now and then, in a quiet moment, when nothing else makes sense, saudade always comes back.

Saudade always comes back.

– Blake

 

My Almost Graduation Speech

First of all, when I started this blog, I made a commitment to myself to post at least twice a week. Unfortunately, due to my busy weeks the past little while, I’ve let about two weeks lapse. My apologies to myself and those who pay enough attention to have noticed. Now to today’s subject:

In some alternative universe, I would be the student speaker at the commencement ceremony for the SUU class of 2012. For those of you who are unaware, I’m about to graduate with my bachelor’s degree, and at my college, rather than just asking the valedictorian or student association president to represent the student body at graduation, they graciously give any student who would like a shot at the speech (and a $300 speaking stipend with it, no less) the opportunity to write and submit a speech. I came very close. In fact, according to the staff member in charge, it basically came down to one other student and myself. Alas, I was not the final choice. While I wish the victorious candidate the best of luck, I’m sure most of you can imagine my disappointment; I’m convinced that coming close and not succeeding is a whole lot worse than simply being rejected right out. Those of you who have seen The Muppets know what I’m talking about.

But, in any case, I still like the speech I wrote, and while it might not get me $300 or the recognition of speaking for my college graduation, I wanted to give it the opportunity to see the light of day. So, if you’re curious, pasted below is choice number 2 for the commencement of 2012. Alternatively, you can stop reading this post now.

            Fellow graduates of the class of 2012: as we finish our time at SUU today, two questions come to mind that I think would be beneficial for all of us to try to answer. The first is a question I’m sure many of you were asked while you were growing up. “What did you learn at school today?” If you were like me when you were in elementary school, that question was followed by your eager retelling of the day’s worth of knowledge: the cool science experiment you did with eggs and candles, the new game you played in P.E., or, my favorite, the awesome story you wrote that was longer than anyone else’s.

When we reached middle school, the answers probably changed somewhat: the field trip to the planetarium, those pesky math problems you just couldn’t figure out, or the latest on who’s “going out” with whom. In high school, if our parents could get an answer from us beyond “Nothin’,” we’d talk about how overloaded we were with homework, the latest on who we are “going out” with, or the terror of our dreaded ACT, SAT and AP tests.

When we came to college, however, we probably stopped answering that question; I imagine none of our roommates asked us every day what we learned at school. Frankly, that might be a little weird. But even though we’ve had no one to answer to, I think it’s still an important question for us to consider. So now, after our many days and years of study, I want each of us to ask ourselves a question that’s long overdue: what did we learn at school today? What did we learn in our days at SUU?

Obviously, at a certain level, we’re all going to have a different answer to that question. Some of us have learned how to manage a business; some have learned how to manage a classroom. Some have learned how to compose music, and some of us have learned how to compose a twelve-page essay. Many learned the structure of the human heart, while others learned the structure of ecological systems. All of these and the many other separate skills we have each learned are important, but I hope we can all say we’ve learned more than that.

I’m sure we’ve learned the only places to find food at 3 in the morning are Denny’s, the two ‘bertos’, and Wal-Mart. I’m positive we’ve learned snow knows no season in Cedar. We’ve learned cars are not to be trusted, walking from the Sharwan Smith Center to upper quad is exhausting when you’re in a hurry, and you’ll never get past the doors of the bookstore with a backpack.

But I’ll bet we’ve learned even more than that.  Because I think somewhere in the midst of stressing over our classes, spending countless hours studying in the library, or simply trying to find something to do on a Friday night, we learned far more important lessons than anything we could find in a textbook or on Wikipedia. I imagine we learned that new experiences, while scary, are often the most rewarding; that home is not always the place you grew up, and family is not only the people you’re related to. I imagine we learned what it means to truly be a friend, and what it means to truly believe in something. And I’m almost certain we all learned college was so much more than those hours we sat in class or pouring over our notes, because in the background we were discovering who we really are, and what we truly want in life. And knowing that is perhaps the most important knowledge of all.

So again, I ask, Class of 2012, what did we learn at school today?

My second question is also one from when I was growing up, and though it’s far less common than asking what we learned in school, I think this question may be even more important. When I was in high school, my efforts in the various activities I was involved in found both notable success and significant defeat. What I didn’t realize then is that the most important part of these efforts was a question one of my advisors would constantly ask me. Win or lose, exhilaration or disappointment, my conversations with this wise man often started with the same question from him: “What’s next?” In the years since then, I’ve realized he wasn’t trying to damper my success or disregard my discouragement with that question. He simply understood that while celebrating victories and accepting losses is necessary, the most important step a person can take afterwards is a step forward. I don’t think it mattered to him what I did, so long as I did something; so long as I was moving forward, continuing to push the limits of what I thought I could do.

As we reflect today on our time here at SUU, I’m sure we can each find a reason to both feel pride for our accomplishments and regret for our failures. For some of us, our years at SUU may have been the greatest experience of our lives. We may have found great success as scholars, as athletes, as artists and performers, or as leaders. We may have thrived in our social connections and found where we belonged. Then again, for some of us, perhaps our college career was marred by challenges and difficulty. We may have struggled in our classwork, felt lonely and out-of-place living on our own, or experienced a tragedy or loss of someone we loved. I’m sure we all had our highs and our lows, victories and defeats, fortunate chances and missed opportunities. And while today is a day for us to think on those moments, I’m going to channel the spirit of my advisor for a moment and ask all of us: “What’s next?”

And again, each of us to a certain degree (pun totally intended) will have a different answer to that question. Graduate school or law school may be next for many of us. Some may have an internship, or even the beginnings of a career awaiting them. Some are eager to start their own families, having recently married or are soon-to-be married. What’s next for us is as unique and personalized as the education we received here. It doesn’t matter what we do, so long as we do something; so long as we are moving forward, continuing to push the limits of what we think we can do.

Even still, I hope much of what’s next will be the same for all of us. After today, I hope that next we will continue to learn and expand our knowledge about the world around us, because after all, “learning lives forever;” that next we will involve ourselves in our communities and society, not being content to simply sit back and watch others do it for us. Above all, I hope that next we do all we can to be a positive influence for good in whatever situation or environment we may find ourselves, confident that there are no limits to what we can accomplish, and that we can truly change the world.

Graduates, as our time here at SUU ends, I hope each of you will take a moment to consider these questions I have asked myself many times in the past few months. I believe these two questions, perhaps more than any other question we could ask, will help us to appreciate where we have been and to imagine what we will do with the knowledge we have gained.

Class of 2012: “What did we learn at school today?” and “What’s next?” Thank you and congratulations.

Wow, if you actually read through the whole thing, many thanks from me. If you just scrolled to the end, well … at least you did that.

-Blake