Back to Real Life--This is Probably Anticlimactic

After spending--oh my word, four months? I spent four months of my life that involved in the Twilight Saga?! I'm not certain of how I should feel about this. Should I be proud of my dedication to the cause of thorough, educated analysis? Should I be apathetic since it really doesn't matter all that much? Should I be horrified that I dedicated that much time and energy and witticism into something that in the long run probably matters less than Paris Hilton's autobiography?

I think yes.

But I'm digressing from the point...what I meant to start out with was:

After spending four months (guh) blogging (oh my, I'm blogging. I'm a blogger. I feel like I should know more about this world with a title) about the Twilight Saga, I feel like going back to my normal blogging--aka, "Have you ever pondered Mondays"--is even less adequate than it was before. And it helps very little that I just read over some older posts and am now wondering why on earth anyone bothers to read this. I'm so puzzled--this stuff is boring. I think there's something wrong with you people. Of course, I'm going to keep writing anyway, because I'm far too fond of Archives to just abandon him now, but I really do look at you all askance for reading. Truly.

I think I should carry a tape-recorder around with me everywhere I go, and this is why: in the past week, I've been legitimately (marginally) preoccupied with what I would post now that I'm done with Twilight forever. Every once and a while something would happen, something epic, or funny, or that just made me happy, and I tucked in away in my brain as "Blogging ideas." But the problem I face now is, since they already happened (and just ages ago, too) I really don't feel like mustering the narrative prowess it takes to retell things so they sound as awesome and cool as they were the first time. However, if I had a tape-recorder, then I could just narrate them in the moment, with dialogue peppered with witticism and emotional language inspired by my feelings for the moment at that time. In the moment. Because usually about a day after I meet the moment I get bored of the moment, and to each other we become one of those weird acquaintances that one smiles and waves at as they pass but at the same time tries to look extremely busy and destination-bound so that one doesn't have to stop and actually make conversation.

(I have a few people in my life under that category. I'm rightfully ashamed of my lack of gumption and social dexterity.)

What was the point of that paragraph? I think it was to say that if I had a tape recorder I could narrate said event while I was still excited about it and then in effect dictate it to myself later. I think that was it.

So biggest news in Meagan's life to date is that her poor fish are starving! I just realized neglecting this blog means neglecting to give love and tender care to the pixelated koi pond and it's adorable denizens! I'm a horrible parent...Remington, Steiny, Alphonse, Earl, Fitz--forgive me.

Oh yes, I'm also on summer break. Which is extremely nice for me, but probably not the most awesome for you, since that means right now I'm determinedly doing literally nothing. Well, I am going through Les Miserables; I think that's pretty epic of me if I do say so myself. But other than that, you probably don't want to hear about it.

I smell like an Icee right now. And now I want an Icee.

Things I am looking forward to:

• Prince of Persia and Eclipse because they both look hilarious.
• The return of Psych--Season 4!.
• Seeing the Leaches again (soon, soon, please be soon!).
• Getting together with Hannah (aha! You didn't think I was thinking about it, did you? Well I was).
• Getting to meet my niece, Julia Mae Smith, in July! [it's special. It gets special formatting]

Mbye!

The Twilight Experiment--The Final Final Review

[If you've felt in any way bashed upon, hurt, angered, or annoyed at any point during this long series of The Twilight Experiment, please read my address to the bulldozed masses.]

At last it is the long overdue Final Final Review of the infamous Twilight Saga. I honestly have no idea why you had to wait so long for this, dear reader. I'd like to be done with it just as much as you...maybe. It's been a long journey. One that has felt even longer--oh, Smeyer. But I've waited so long, and have so little left to say, that this will probably end up seeming anti-climactic to you.

I think I'll do this quick, like pulling off a band-aid.

The Final Final Review: I could spend hours upon hours simply nitpicking this series (as some of you probably have already experienced. Apologies). However, I won't--for which I'd like a reward please and thank you. But I will say that the fact that I can spend hours nitpicking a published book is a strong indicator that Smeyer left out a very important part of her writing process, that being peer review. Speaking from a writer's perspective for a moment here: I have written some truly dreadful things. It's not impossible for an author to treat a horrible, cliched, melodramatic, just-plain-stupid, idea like their shining, sweet, angel brain child; in fact, it's all too easy. However, what saves your authorly life in these moments are two things: putting down your work and coming back to it many months later when you've forgotten just how brilliant you think it is (this process usually reveals some very embarrassing things in the cold, unforgiving light of day), and getting others whose opinions you greatly value to look over your work. A good friend will be able to shed logicality and practical...ness into your passion-sodden piece of inspiration, shedding light onto areas of weakness that you probably never would have seen yourself. Most importantly, they are able to catch plotholes, errors in logic and factual evidence, and just tiny awkward things that could besmirch an otherwise respectable manuscript.

Smeyer, clearly, did not go through this process. Putting aside the fact that she herself wrote such a large amount of sheer grammatical, factual, and logical errors into her books for a moment--did no one think to point just one of these things? Did she have no friend willing to say, "Well Stephanie, see if you're going to get scientific to explain how Bella could possibly be having a baby, you're going to have to also explain why all of the natural processes of Edward's body have stopped except the reproductive ones."

I just can't fathom how it can be that sloppy and be published. A manuscript goes through legions of editors and proofreaders, and this is the final product?

That is my last block rant, I promise.

(Probably)

Pros of the Twilight Saga:

•  Jacob Black--for the entirety of Twilight and the first five chapters or so of New Moon. He's a genuinely likable character; a cute, cheerful, little fifteen-year-old (although there's something wrong with him if he likes Bella that much).
• Jasper--because he hardly ever talks, and when he does it's just to be a badapple.
• The histories--Smeyer did indeed create fairly involved histories for each vampire character, that are really interesting. So no matter what else happens, you'll be engaged for the equivalent of about two chapters of the Saga.
• The Volturi--really good concept--the execution of the concept didn't quite live up to its potential, but they were cool nonetheless (too bad they never actually got to use that coolness in BATTLE)
• (To connect with above) Basically every other vampire except the Cullens--those being the ones introduced in the last dozen chapters of Breaking Dawn. I don't know what it is--maybe Smeyer's talent lies in giving characters the illusion of unseen depth before she goes into detail about them (thus revealing them to be flat and unlikable)--but the vampires that gather to defend the Cullens against the Volture in the last book both intrigue intrigue and please me.*

 (Overall) Cons of the Twilight Saga:

• Jacob--from the rest of New Moon onward. After he turns into a werewolf he becomes your normal, annoying, angst-ridden supernatural teen; all sullen and tortured about his lot in life. He's also kind of a skeeze, and full of himself.
• Bella--is a poorly done main character. She's really a just plain unlikable main character, and pretty much static even though the Saga takes place over almost three years of her life; her states of being change, but not her character. And there are little to no transitions between the changes in her states of being (much like this paragraph and the transitions between its ideas). She goes from not knowing who Edward is to being completely in love, with him with no real catalyst; she goes from ignorance of vampires to complete acceptance of the concept, with no time of processing or shock; she goes from not caring about her human friends to--never caring about her human friends. And she treats her parents like children, which just plain ticks me off.
• The only "cool" (and good-looking) characters in the Saga are Bella and the supernatural creatures surrounding her. Honestly, if I was one of Smeyer's friends I'd be worried about the way she feels about the human race.
• Her climaxes--they fall pitifully short. The most exciting of these was the climax for Twilight--which wasn't very impressive to begin with. Smeyer constantly writes as if she's leading up to something big and potentially eye-popping, but always fails in the follow-through. Yes, I am still bitterly, bitterly disappointed in the Breaking Dawn climax.
• Stephanie Meyers is Bella. And you can tell; I don't know about you, but pretension like this never fails to irritate me greatly in novels (I have the same problem with the Inheritance series). But if I were Smeyer's husband, I'd feel a bit self-conscious.
• Edward--is not romantic, is not sweet, is not an old-fashioned gentleman--he is an overly controlling, emotionless stalker.
• Description--is gratuitous in the places it shouldn't be (Smeyer never stops eloquently describing Edward's beauty and Jacob's body. Never.), and underdone in the places it should be eloquent.
• Small typos, plotholes, and logical fallacies that alone probably wouldn't matter very much but add up--believe me.

You can do the math and come to your own conclusion about reading them.

*Honestly, if a better writer wrote an expanded universe about some of those side characters' lives, I might consider checking them out.

The Biggest Con:

I've separated it because I feel it's the most important; everything I've pointed out above, for the most part, is arguably a matter of opinion. This particular issue I have with the Saga, however,  is something that I'll stand by no matter what, because I think it's important that people be aware of it.

The most important problem I have with the Twilight Saga is its message. In a nutshell, the message of Twilight is that you can't be happy unless you have a significant other--and that once you have someone who loves you, whom you love (because everyone loves Bella but it's only Edward who has the privilege of being loved by her), everything in your life will be perfect. And I do not exaggerate when I say perfect--after Bella marries Edward, at the end of the Saga, what she has is Stephanie Meyers' version of a perfect life--she has a picturesque, fairy tale cottage for a home, eternity with the man of her dreams, who is the most beautiful creature imaginable (which we can never forget), a beautiful, well-behaved little girl that she doesn't even have to bother training, she's inhumanly gorgeous herself, and she gets her own personal stylist. This end basically sums up what's woven throughout the entire story; the only time Bella is ever truly content is when she and Edward can be together. And she gets everything she's ever wanted through no effort on her own part aside from continually loving Edward.

Not only is this tedious to read about, but I feel for younger readers--and Twilight readers are getting progressively younger--it can be a downright dangerous idea. It's never explicitly stated, but always subtly implied. The focus and truly important things in the book are all shallow, brief, tenuous values.

-----

Well, that's it for The Twilight Experiment, dear reader. Now hopefully I, and you if you wish, can go back to forgetting the Twilight Saga even exists.

I think I'll go read Dracula now.....

(Picture was paired with this post solely for the purpose of having something interesting to look at when I link this on Facebook. I'm not ashamed to admit it.)

----

Wow. That wasn't quick at all.

The Twilight Experiment--A Brief Aside to Twilight Fans

Dear Reader Who In Any Way Enjoys Twilight,

I know I've been considerably harsh to this Saga. So I think it important to note: the things that I say about Twilight and the way that I feel about it in absolutely no way applies to you. I wish to make it abundantly clear that all Twilight Experiment posts are my--small, fallible, human, slanted--opinion. And that my view of this book series in no way reflects the way I feel about anyone who should happen to enjoy them. I do not think the less of you, I will not browbeat or otherwise abuse you, and I don't spend my spare time thinking about what silly fangirls (or boys) you all are. I might, if we should ever happen to engage in dialogue regarding Twilight, attempt to (passionately) bring you around to my way of thinking, but at worst that will only be me debate-mongering, I solemnly promise.

That being said, I strongly suggest--nay, implore--that if at any point during this journey of analysis you have felt remotely irritated or offended, ignore everything I say. And if someday we do engage in dialogue regarding Twilight and you feel the same inklings of doubt or annoyance during my impassioned persuasion, please feel released and, indeed, obligated to slap me across the face and walk away.

Your servant,
The Writer

An Anecdote--Interruption of the Flow

So, I know I'm supposed to be writing the final review of the Twilight Saga, but it's taking a while so I thought I'd favor you with a humorous anecdote from life. Mine, specifically.

My creative processes need a little more discipline added to them. This fact was cemented in my mind after hour three of trying to write a short story due today last night. You, dear reader, may have some words about my grasp on the obvious, but I have to say: don't try to write a story the day before you have to hand it in. It's just a miserable experience.

Anyway I know that now.

Around ten all creative juices dried into acid. Around eleven the temptation to type "the last thing he saw was the barrel of a gun pointed at his head" was stronger than it ever has been in my life. Around twelve thirty I was done and disgusted (it's really quite extraordinary the amount of self-loathing one can muster during a creative endeavor. Just ask my sister).

Around one, I was dozing over the keyboard while trying to get the family printer to spit out twenty five copies. Cue noticing a huge typing error. Meagan cancels print job, fixes error, resumes printing. Cue black ink trickling to nil. Meagan cancels the print job, changes all text to blue instead of black, resumes printing. Cue printer printing at the speed of one page per five minutes.

You should be admiring my perseverance at this point--even though it had morphed into more of a one-track, zombie-like "Must get done....must get done..." compulsion. But eventually, the practical part of my mind concluded, "This is dumb." Meagan cancels print job for the final time, making satisfactory plans to print the rest out at school.

So of course, I need to bring a stapler to staple them all together before I hand them out, and logically I should check to make sure I have enough staplers because it would just be in keeping with the whole process if I got to school in the morning and discovered I was stuck with a stapleless stapler. Naturally this leads to prying open the forty-year-old stapler, and after finding satisfaction in the number of staples therein, wrestling the decrepit tool closed.

Protestingly it finally snapped shut, and the action was accompanied by a stranger sensation in my finger. Curiously, I glance down at the digit, only to be met with the sight of a staple in my finger.

Before you stop reading, dear reader, I will add that it didn't hook. A fortuitous circumstance. But I still found myself with an old metal staple dug a good half-inch into my finger at one-thirty in the morning. Through my fuzzy brain (that I'm pretty sure was trying to thrust me into an out-of-body experience), I stared at the skewered appendage blankly. Reason compelled me to remove it, which I did, and then immediately worked my frayed mind to think who I could talk to about the experience at this time of night.

How very telling.

After this, I put a band-aid on it, scraped up enough incredulity to spout some profanities (shameful of me; I'm glad everyone was asleep), and went to bed.

And this morning I typed up a completely different short story, that I despise slightly less, and am now minutes away from turning it in.

I'm not sure what's wrong with me, but something definitely is.

The Twilight Experiment--Breaking Dawn, Chapters Somthing-End and The Final Review

Well, Breaking Dawn, while possessing a distinct dream-like quality (and I mean that in the literal sense of dreams, not the "never in my wildest dreams!" sense of dreams), is definitely not one of my dreams because even in my dreaming mind I would never deprive readers of a good, wholesome vampire showdown. Clearly I have wandered into the dreaming mind of someone else, because I would never subject myself to such a travesty. What I'm trying to say is this: there was no fight.


About twenty-four vampires aside from the Cullens assembled from all around the globe over a one month period, most with their own unique, kick-awesome power--Egyptian Benjamin controls the elements, Irish Maggie can tell when someone's lying, Amazon Zafrina can create visual illusions. The Twilight Dracula and his twin brother (called Vladimir and Stefan) who are a million years old came from Romania for the sole purpose of seeing the Volturi fall (ancient grudges, you know). Alice and Jasper disappear mysteriously, making them all think that Alice saw that if it came to a fight they would all die, but they all gear up for war anyway. Bella learns how to fight. Bella finds out her superpower is a concentrated version of the protection she had when she was a human--a shield against any vampire power that has to do with the mind.


(Side note: the reason Jasper's, and for that matter Alice's, powers worked on Bella was because they worked on her body, not her mind. So it actually wasn't a plothole, in the end; Smeyer merely took  until the end of Eclipse to have anyone even ask about it. Not a plothole, just poor planning.)


Bella learns she can extend that shield to other people. Bella trains. They all train, and prepare, and plan, and gather.


And the Volturi come, in a force of about thirty vampires, and a crapload of other non-Volturi vampires to witness and spread the word afterwards (for the sake of the Volturi name, you see). And it's clear that the Volturi aren't truly concerned that the Cullens have broken the law about immortal children--even when they are able to convince them that Renesmee is half-human, they are obviously still looking for a reason simply to take the Cullens down. The Volturi are hoping to not only eliminate a powerful vampire coven that could pose a threat to them, but also to collect a few vampires to their side with extra-special powers, like Bella and Edward (yeah. Everybody wants them). They're about to come to massive blows over whether or not Renesmee should be allowed to live, since the Volturi say there's no way to predict how she'll turn out as she grows older, and she could expose them. Everything's nailbitingly tense.


And then wonderful Alice comes back with a one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old half-vampire, half-human boy who still looks about nineteen, and they prove that Renesmee will prove no threat, now or ever. And so the Volturi, intimidated by Bella's new power, and without an excuse to continue and keep their reputation untarnished. And so they leave.


Two chapters. Two entire, Stephenie Meyer-sized chapters of intense, suspenseful rising conflict, speeches and debates and waiting and more debating and subterfuge and deviousness. And it ends in: "Well, I guess we'll go home now. Toodle-loo!"


In case it hasn't penetrated, let me simplify the situation a bit: an army of evil vampires masquerading as judges and lawmen organize a force against the Cullens and their friends for the sole purpose of getting the talents that they covet and obliterating all others. And the Cullens just let them go. Words fail me.


Everyone goes home, Alice explains it was all part of the plan, the contingency plans Bella made to get Jacob and Renesmee far far away in case she died are totally unimportant, and all is right with the world. Bedward returns to their perfect fairy tale cottage with their perfect beautiful daughter to spend the night together not-sleeping. The end.


I wanted to throw the book. By God's providence I was in class, and thusly was prevented from having to spend money on a hardcover edition of the newest teenage craze in a moment of rash fury. This is how she decided she wanted the climax of climaxes to go? The series finale? The final act, the last word? Ten chapters of preparation, two chapters of rising suspense, three pages of climax, an unSmeyerly short chapter of wrap up, and the lights dim?


Did you have a stroke, Smeyer?!


The Final Review:

Breaking Dawn...I struggle to find words to express exactly what reading this book was like. Most of it was like a dream, as I've said before. Some of it was normal--pretty decent actually. The wedding (aside from being under-detailed from a girl's perspective) was good. The interim period between when Bella becomes a vampire and the actual climax starts was decent. So all in all, story-wise, there's about....maybe ten chapters I would say aren't a waste of time to read.

Unfortunately, the book itself is about seven-hundred pages.

As far as the writing goes, Smeyer did finally manage to crawl up to the level of what I would call "decent." Nothing extraordinary, but she's consistent and passable in Breaking Dawn. Her worst habits are still apparent, but not rampant. Looking purely at her writing, straight, leaving out creativity, plot-development, and character-development, I would put her on the same level in my estimation as Eoin Colfer, Rick Riordan, and Cinda Williams Chima.

The thing that separates them, though, is the the above-mentioned authors are in varying degrees worlds ahead of Smeyer in imagination.

So overall, the improvement in the writing doesn't manage to make of for the continued decline of creativity, artistry, and plot. I wouldn't recommend Breaking Dawn to anyone who doesn't want to be psychologically battered.

Next time: the Final Final Review/Airing of Grievances I Might Have Forgotten! Don't miss it--same Twilight time, same Twilight channel.

The Twilight Experiment--Breaking Dawn, Chapters 16-Do you really care anymore? It's Bella's point of view again, okay

Dear reader, I have an actual viable scientific explanation for a minor aspect of the saga that has been bothering me for quite some time. Throughout all four books, every time Edward's face is anywhere near Bella's she can't help but mention something about his "sweet breath." The reasons for my vexation at these term was two-fold--number one, again, Bella, we understand, his breath smells real good, kindly stop reiterating; number two, nobody not even vampires (especially not vampires considering their diet and the fact that everything in their mouths, as with everything in their entire bodies, is totally static and therefor completely stagnant), has great smelling breath all the time. I would argue I've never met anyone who has great smelling breath--apart from breath mints and gum and toothpaste all within a four hour time window--at all.

But, due to a scientific discussion I listened to last night at CCF, I have come up with a plausible explanation. The subject was diabetes. I don't remember the entire process of how this happens, because it involves a lot of big words; however, as you might know, dear reader, when a diabetic is low on insulin (I believe), it means their body isn't absorbing the sugar therein, and therefor there's all this sugar floating around in your body. The result of this, if it gets to high levels, is that basically everything gets sugary--for example, your breath smells sweet.

So, Edward could have been on the brink of a diabetic coma right before he was bitten! It would explain everything!

Yes, I'm rolling my eyes, too.

The horror does not abate in Breaking Dawn until it reaches it's gory climax in the birth of the child. The only change is that Edward discovers he can hear the babies thoughts, finds out the baby loves Bella, and is finally Team Baby. Good job, Edward. It only took you almost the entire pregnancy to start acting remotely like a father. Jacob is super mad at everyone, but can't stay away from the house even though it causes him angst and pain for some mysterious reason. So for a chapter or two there's this stasis of everyone being on board with baby except Jacob, Jacob being all angsty, the vampires and the Nice Werewolves just generally getting along, and the Mean Werewolves keeping their distance and being very little part of the story anymore.

So naturally, while things are all peaceful, the placenta separates and the carnage resumes. The scene of the birthing is much better suited to a zombie film than a romance novel. I'll be suffering from psychological trauma for a long time I think. Suffice it to say there was blood enough to serve the most violent of anime fight scenes, and Bella basically gets ripped apart. The baby breaks her spine while it's freaking out because it's suffocating. She would have died a gurgling, horrific, painful, bloody death if Edward hadn't bit her.

Bella is a vampire now. And blissfully happy with her super strength, and her new vampire/werewolf family, and her still-freakishly growing daughter Renesmee. Renesmee Carlie, to combine Renee and Esme and Charlie and Carlisle. I believe that's the first that I've heard of anyone borrowing the tabloids celebrity-couple-naming technique to name they're child.

Whatever makes your cereal crackle, Bella.

Things did get a bit dodgy when she found out that Jacob had imprinted on her infant child during her interim dying period. But they shook hands and made up. Yes, Smeyer is at it again with the pedophilia. I don't really care if he'll only behave as the most devoted older brother ever until she's legal, cosmic betrothals to girls seventeen years younger than you is not on the level.

I'd like to address the particular issue of Bella fitting so very perfectly into her entirely new lifestyle. Upon first overview it seems pretty harmless--I mean, it's nice, isn't it, for someone to actually be happy in the life they've chosen for themselves. My issue is how Smeyer particularly emphasizes exactly how much better Bella's new life is from the old--she's very purposeful in making it clear that everything that wasn't quite perfect before is obliterated after Bella gets married and becomes a vampire. All complications in her and Edward's relationship are non-existent; she's no longer absurdly clumsy, but graceful, strong, and agile to the nth degree; she's inhumanly beautiful; she has her own personal stylist (because Alice loves dressing people); she has her own cottage that suits her taste exactly and doesn't have so much as a drippy faucet; she has a beautiful daughter, who's growing at the rate of about a year per month, and thusly isn't troubled by the messy child-rearing nuisances such as weaning, teething, sleep-schedules, training, potty-training, education, and the like; she's amazingly self-controlled for a new vampire and therefor is troubled very little by things like bloodlust and not knowing the extent of her own strength; and she even gets to keep Charlie as a part of her life. If you (I'm speaking, I think, mostly to my dear female readers specifically--or maybe just my female readers who think like me) took everything you ever wished for in your most disconsolate moments and wildest dreams--"Ugh, I have no idea what to wear. I wish I just had a personal stylist to make me look fabulous." "I can't explain myself right to anyone--I wish I could just be with someone who understood me perfectly." "If I could live anywhere, it would be Wendy's house in Peter Pan."--and actually got it, that would be Bella Cullen's life right now. In short, her life now is finally, literally perfect (from a general standpoint--I personally am looking forward to snotty noses and teaching my kid to read).

First of all, no one's life is anywhere close to that perfect. She has literally zero conflict in her life, no more tiny things to argue about, life is blissful and harmonious--the conflict that is arising (which I'll get to soon) is from a completely outside source.

Secondly, can we examine for a moment exactly what message Smeyer is sending her readers--primarily teenage girls, mind--through choosing to portray Bella's life this way? Let us delve into the psyche of your average Twilight fan (come now, don't be such a baby); we'll call her Mallory. Mallory is a fifteen-year-old, who loves Twilight because of the deeply personal way in which she relates to Bella Swan. They're both highschool students, and Bella goes through the same angsty problems that Mallory does; Mallory understands Bella. And finally, Bella's life is getting better, and her problems are fixed--by becoming a vampire. That's the message: if you're not content in your life right now, that's probably because you actually belong in a totally different life! What kind of message is that to feed Mallory?! And it's all veiled in this fluffy marshmallow dream of a perfect life surrounded by beautiful things and people who love you.

This is wrong.

Positive: there's a very cool, fascinating, macabre vampire history lesson in Breaking Dawn about a time in vampire history where there were what was called the immortal children. If you can't guess, that's a period of time where vampires were turning children, barely older than infants, into vampires (since vampires themselves can't reproduce). The problem was that since the immortal children didn't grow, they could never be taught to control themselves or their bloodlust, so there was a huge danger of vampire exposure. So the Volturi (you remember them--the vampire Mafia/Lawmen) wiped them all out, and forbade the making of immortal children ever again. And now, a vampire saw Reneesme from afar and thought she was an immortal child, so the Volturi are all coming--literally all--to wipe the Cullens out for being dirty lawbreakers. Dire straights indeed!

I've noticed the things I really like about Twilight are usually subplots or back stories involving vampires actually acting something like vampires--carnage and slaughter and turning children and being soulless and such.

Side note: it's officially confirmed that it's scientifically impossible for Bella and Edward to have reproduced. Normally I wouldn't quibble about science when it comes to the undead, but since Smeyer decided to bring science into her explanation I can only point out that her attempt to make realistic sense of the situation is neither realistic nor sensical.

The Twilight Experiment--Breaking Dawn, Chapters 1-15

I'm going to have nightmares.

Someone, please, please tell me when the book in my hand transmorgaphied from part of a popular teenage vampire romance saga into a Gothic horror psychodrama. I have no idea how this happened. The wedding was fine. The wedding was normal. The wedding was Twilight: Bella being unutterably blase to the point where you wonder if she can actually have a soul and still be so apathetic about the fact that she's getting married; Bella realizing as she walks down the aisle (better late than never) that hm, wait, wedded bliss applies here; joy, glory flowers; Jacob--fight; off to our honeymoon!

And then of course, I felt deceived again, because though it's true that Smeyer doesn't actually write in-the-moment honeymoon activity descriptions, she is more-than relishing being as eloquent as possible with the before and after. Which is quite sufficient for me to wish I could un-read that. Also, Bedward honeymoon on the Cullens own private island. Really? My Suspension of Disbelief threw her hands up in despair and left to make herself a panini (yeah, my SOD has a panini maker and I don't. I'm jealous too.)

And yet...and yet...that now seems comparatively small after getting this far. Around the end of chapter 7 marks the entire world of Twilight turning on it's side (as if it wasn't hard enough to deal with right-side-up).

Bella is pregnant. I will overlook the fact that while I don't know a lot of biology, I'm pretty sure that since Edward is technically dead all his bodily human processes have completely halted (like his heart beating, etc.) and therefor really shouldn't...be able...to do that...

Anyway.

Bella figures out she's pregnant about two weeks or something after they first, ahem, conceive, and is already showing common pregnancy symptoms (morning sickness, cravings, tiredness) and a bump. So basically the baby's growing at a rate of like one week per day. By the end of a month Bella is heavily pregnant and dying because the baby is sucking the life out of her and making her body reject any and all nourishment--she's literally starving to death. To top if off the baby is so strong that she has bruises all over her belly, and at one point it breaks a rib.

Do you want to know what's really wrong? Edward's immediate reaction to learning Bella was pregnant, before he even knew Bella was in any real danger whatsoever, was as follows:

"'We're going to get that thing out of you...'"

That was his first thought upon hearing that he was going to have a child. And the thought doesn't change; not when Bella decides to keep the baby, not when he realizes how much it means to her, not ever. I know that the relationship between a husband and wife is a singular, exclusive, binding one, but it's not supposed to be to the exclusion of all other life.


And the solution to getting Bella to actually get nutrients: she has to drink human blood the Cullens had in case she got bad enough to need transfusions, because they figure out that's what the baby wants and the reason it won't let her take in anything else.


The whole situation is just disgusting and repulsive and wrong from every angle. On the one hand, Bella has a parasitical monster incubating inside her; on the other hand, it's a baby and the first thought on the majority of everyone's minds is to get rid of it. The only people on Bella's side are Esme, Carlisle (because Esme is), and Rosalie--and Rosalie only because she's always wanted babies, and since vampires can't conceive she's all set for Bella to kick the bucket and take the baby herself! Oh yes, and Edward convinces Jacob to offer to whore himself--basically tell her "If you want babies that much let me offer my services to give you a few totally healthy ones"--in an effort to once again try to get Bella to get rid of the baby. Which he does. Let us skip over the sick immorality of this idea, since it's just painfully obvious and really goes without saying; can you imagine what kind of a psychological impact that arrangement would have on the resulting children? "Yeah...I'm alive because my mom got rid of my older sibling, and my real dad's nonexistent 'cept for when Mom's feeling amorous, and my stand-in dad is totally apathetic to my existence because he only cares about my mom." That is just a lovely family arrangement, yes?


People, it's not just one life you have to consider here! Can we all stop taking crazy pills and consider that there are two people in danger at the moment?!


It's horrific. Terms like Rosemary's Baby and Hush come to mind. I'm pretty sure I saw an episode of Charmed like this once. 


I literally feel like this is a dream I'm having whenever I read it. It's too weird.


Important developments in the plot: first person point-of-view switch from Bella to Jacob. It isn't that much more interesting in the kids head; just a lot of anger and angst and "Oh Bella, you're tearing me apart when you're not even here." The werewolf pack decides to take Bella and Baby out rather than risk the danger of it being born upon hearing of Bella's pregnancy (Jacob went to see her because he was afraid she'd already been turned, and found out the whole story), and Jacob is actually rational for once and splits off from the pack because he won't attack the Cullens unprovoked or kill Bella. Eventually Seth the Baby Werewolf and Leah the Unnecessary Werewolf join him. So now there's a split in the werewolf pack and the Nice Werewolves are patrolling around the Cullens' house to protect Bella from the Mean Werewolves. 


Also Bella's getting better because of all the blood she's drinking.


The silver lining, I guess, is that there's a distinct pro-life message in the whole mess--however, I fervently wish that she'd picked a better medium for it. A worlds better medium. It's just so creepsauce. My hands a literally shaking from thinking about it...