Litterbury

Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight Saga broke box office records in theaters this weekend with the second film installment of the franchise, ‘New Moon.’ Her books continue to be bestsellers, the film series is a phenomenon and she just did her first appearance on the Oprah Winfrey talk show.  Not bad.

They are a disputed success, though.  The series skews in the Young Adult-YA ghetto, the author is Mormon writing goth-lite, the romance can be viewed as syrupy, the quality of writing to some is questionable (Meyer, to her credit, qualifies herself more as a storyteller than an author) and the repressed romance can be read as an allegory of sexual abstinence.

I own all four of the books, and have read three.  I actually kind of like the Twilight books and appreciate them for what they are.  I don’t hang effigies of Anne Rice on them, or burn them in honor of horror past, and I haven’t seen the films yet, so I’m not completely tied into the wild fanfare of the moment.

I find their appeal fascinating, but in unusual fashion.

You see, when the first Twilight movie surprised everyone with box office success (shocker!), talk of Proposition 8 was going through the state of California.  Prop. 8 was a ballot initiative that would appear on the November ballots of the 2008 general election, in which Barack Obama was elected President of the US.  The California Supreme Court had previously passed down a decision months earlier which stated that the state constitution couldn’t bar same-sex couples from getting married, which led to Prop. 8 in putting the issue to vote during an election with support for the measure hoping to outlaw same-sex marriage.  Prop. 8 passed.  It was very upsetting, and there had been some trending conversations that the Mormon church had stepped in with an invested interest to  sway the outcome in favor of it’s passing.

Now, I will say that, to my knowledge, the Mormon church doesn’t specifically issue any statement in regards to a position on same-sex marriage.  Also, I’m aware that not everyone who is Mormon supports the opposition to same-sex marriage, with many, in fact, supporting gay friends, acquaintances and family members.  But, the Mormon church may have contributed funds to support the passage of Prop. 8, though it’s questionable, and I wonder if the church would knowingly support such a thing if it could put to risk it’s own tax-exempt status.

This brings me to the author of Twilight, Stephenie Meyer, who is, of course, Mormon.

Does Meyer have a personal opinion on same-sex marriage? I’m sure she does.  I’d be shocked if she was genuinely homophobic, and yet it wouldn’t surprise me either, and that lack of knowing makes me a little nervous.  I would really hate to discover that supporting Twilight would be supporting homophobia, but I would also seriously doubt if much of the young adult population that generates the cash flow for Twilight books, movies and memorabilia would be in any way homophobic in this day and age, and many probably even know of a few school peers who are gay.

It’s in regards to that where, suddenly, the Mormon church had become part of our national consciousness in two very big ways, and it wasn’t deliberately manufactured, but happened of it’s own accord as a genuine pop-cultural moment.  That dichotomy between Mormonism, gay marriage and the Twilight Saga was fascinating and the appeal for me, personally, was undeniable and I had to investigate for my own curiosity.

What I can appreciate about Twilight is it’s moody atmosphere, it’s angst-ridden teen brooding and epic romance delivered under the guise of a slow-burning crush.  It’s also one of the first times that ‘goth’ has been packaged and presented for the mainstream with a cool factor that wasn’t tied into visions of drugs, violence and delinquency.

I like Edward, too.  Having a grumpy teenage vampire who wants to get close to you but can’t because he wants it too badly, and is afraid of what he just might do to you in the process sounds like the stuff of cheap romance novels.  In Twilight? It works, and I’m amazed that no one gives Meyer any credit for her trouble, if not from a creative standpoint, then at least a lucrative one.

Typically books for the young are treated as light fiction and while many don’t pander towards those expectations, there is a definite approach to marketing good vibes and self-esteem.  Meyer embraces that, and there is a case to be made of the Twilight Saga being representative of the self-esteem movement that plays a role in shaping a lot of kids today, but she doesn’t cast out darkness in the process.  There is an underlying sense, too, that what should be viewed as bad is really wrong to hate, especially when you know that it feels so true.

I recognize that Twilight centers on matters of difference, and trying to understand the difference of others.  Judgement is not handed down, and there are no bullies at Forks High School.  You can be different, maybe even looked upon with suspicion for it, but nobody says anything bad about you, and the high-school peers of Bella and Edward are merely curious with the world around them and treat it as such.

Meyer’s representation of Forks, Washington is misty, woodsy and insulated, with a surprisingly diverse community, and residents take that community for what it is.  There is no threat to life in Forks, and it’s only when one wanders out of it’s safe confines that violence and danger become apparent, or when bad things are unleashed upon it from an outside place.  There is a spiritual current to the ferns and trees that quietly watch over it’s residents, and an almost religious authority that is not steeped in religion.  The grey, rainy sky that looms overhead feels oddly cleansing, never cold, and while it’s home, it never ultimately feels familiar.

This is obviously a world that Meyer’s young readers wished they lived in.  This is what they wish their school life could be like, and they want to be taken seriously for the romances they feel, and that their sense of self is to be taken at the value it deserves.  They don’t want to live in a world that punishes them, or their friends, for who they are, but, rather, embraces them instead.  Meyer understands this about her audience, and I can see that.

* * *

“Hmm.” Edward’s voice had a new edge to it.  “In that case, perhaps we’d better leave sooner rather than later.”

“Yes,” Aro agreed.  “That’s a good idea.  Accidents do happen.  Please wait below until after dark, though, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” Edward agreed, while I cringed at the thought of waiting out the day before we could escape.

“And here,” Aro added, motioning to Felix with one finger.  Felix came forward at once, and Aro unfastened the gray cloak the huge vampire wore, pulling it from his shoulders.  He tossed it to Edward.  “Take this.  You’re a little conspicuous.”

Edward put the long cloak on, leaving the hood down.

Aro sighed.  “It suits you.”

-New Moon