You Are Now Entering the Twilight Zone

Ok, confession time.  Not only do I love young adult fiction, but I also love vampires.  So when the YA series, Twilight, came across my radar, I am not too proud to admit my heart went both pitter and patter.  I ordered the entire series, sight unseen.

Like many a young adult and old adult reader alike, I devoured these books - plowed right through them without shame.  So I'm also not going to get on my moral high horse without admitting that I lolled about in the mud and muck for a good long while before I saddled up.

That said? The Twilight series made me deeply, profoundly concerned for the young women out there who may mistake the relationships at the center of this tale for bonafide "true love".

For those of you who may not know, Twilight follows the star-crossed relationship between Edward, a broody Victorian-born vampire who chooses to abstain from his bloodlusty desires, and Bella, an accident prone, scowly non-vampiric teen girl.  The crux of their intimate dilemma is this: Bella would love to give up her human existence and live in tortured damnation as a vampire so as to never get older than her eternally 19-year-old boyfriend, whom she worries will no longer desire her once she sprouts crow’s feet.  Edward is staunchly opposed to this plan, lest it bespoil her fragile, virginal, and cringing femininity, which is, as far as I can tell, her sole endearing feature in his eyes.

The dynamic between these two is absolutely textbook older boyfriend syndrome (for a great synopsis of the pitfalls of these relationships, see Heather Corinna's blog essay, "Why I Deeply Dislike Your Older Boyfriend".  Um, I mean, not only is Edward like, 200 YEARS older than Bella (and therefore someone who came of age in the time of chastity belts and corsets), but his entire attitude toward her is the most paternalistic, patronizing, controlling, and utterly retrograde thing I have seen this side of the 1950s.

Until the final book of the series, where the relationship finally seems to gain some semblance of equality (and that's being generous), Edward consistently plots to a. make all of Bella's decisions for her, b. alienate her from her friends and family, c. keep her (literally!) locked up and under constant supervision, and d. make her MARRY HIM.  Seriously. He basically coerces her into marriage, against her extreme reservations, at 18, just so that they can have sex within the confines of the God-blessed union of holy matrimony.

For her part, Bella's slavish devotion to Edward borders on the psychotic.  She spends four whole books making every decision in her life based on his wishes.  While she may grumble from time to time about his serious control issues, she ultimately interprets each of his behaviors as some charming sign of his courtly love.  Not only that, but she absolutely debases herself at his feet, CONSTANTLY bemoaning her unworthiness in the shadow of his god-like countenance, doubting that someone as “perfect” as he could ever love someone so lowly.

Let's not even discuss the fact that this entire desperately co-dependent relationship is based on a few mumbled greetings, longing glances, and near-death accidents.  For almost the entire 600 pages of the first book, they probably have a sum total of five actual, real, semi-honest conversations.  They irrevocably "fall in love" with each other without so much as a summary discussion of their biographies, hopes, dreams, etc.

The fundamental principle of the relationship depicted in these books is, in no way, one of equal partners.  This is not a relationship built upon honesty, communication and mutual respect.  This is an obsessive, irrational, and ultimately, psychologically sadomasochistic dynamic, one that I believe is a really irresponsible model for the intended audience.  Further, sex between loving partners is consistently depicted as something shameful, dangerous, and embarrassing.  When Edward and Bella fiiiiiiinally do the deed (on their wedding night, natch), Bella is battered and bruised from the violence of the encounter, and then immediately impregnated with his incubus spawn, which nearly kills her from the inside out.  Of course, she smiles wanly through the pain, like any good girl would do.  After thousands of pages of will-they-won’t-they, sex turns Bella from shrinking girlhood to martyrdom motherhood in moments.

It’s in the height of phenomena like the Twilight craze that the critique being built by the NSRC and the Campus Coalition for Sexual Literacy is so sorely needed.  Pop cultural depictions of love and romance hold powerful sway over the social mores of intimacy.  While I am not making the claim that books like Twilight should be silenced or sidelined, I am saying that they should be used as entry points into dialogues about sexual literacy.  Further, I would love to see some of the amazing feminist and queer young adult fiction out there get the same kind of public attention and popular acclaim.  (For a great article about the subversive new frontiers being quietly breached through YA fiction, check out Bitch Magazine’s Fall 2008 issue.)

Before I dove headfirst into sociology, I harbored ardent ambitions of becoming the next Judy Blume myself.  Maybe it’s time I recommit myself to a place in the teen fiction cannon!