I was recently able to find, for under forty dollars: a slap bracelet, a lapel pin, a gigantic portrait poster complete with mystical quote, a throw blanket, stationary, paperclips, and a feather boa. Had these been regular items, I would not be so amused.
However, each of these happened to be emblazoned with some facet of Stephenie Meyer’s fantastical vampire franchise: Twilight.
Not since the good old days of Harry Potter have I seen such a variety of merchandise peddled to such different strata of people under the same umbrella theme. As an added bonus, vampires seem to strike a greater chord with the ladies than our wizard-hero has.
This fact makes way for all sorts of ridiculous material goods that you didn’t know you needed until you saw them. Twilight thongs, Twilight sex toys(!), Twilight candy, Twilight desk lamps. If you sincerely wished it so, I am certain you could deck out your entire house and person with items related exclusively to bloodsucking and other vampire tomfoolery.
Yet, at what cost does this mediocre sensation thrive? Is it healthy to engender a society so ready to obsess? These broad questions might seem too heavy for such a ‘fluffy’ sensation, but I feel they are appropriate.
I don’t mean to keep comparing it to J.K. Rowling’s awesome series, (Twilight and Harry Potter are on opposite ends of the spectrum in both quality and content) but one of my major misgivings about Twilight is really the mediocrity. Whereas Potter employed a rich, well-written plot and ensuing details, Twilight flounders in poorly constructed—plot-wise and technique-wise—drivel.
Over the summer, I volunteered at a nature camp for 4-12 year olds. I, of course, was excited for the sixth Harry Potter flick to come out. When I shared my excitement with the older kids, only one said they had read some of the books. The others looked at me with cocked heads and said, “Harry Potter is stupid.” I kid you not.
Now, I am aware that some people are not as thrilled with the series as my generation and I are. But the fact that these kids are shunning such a multi-faceted and somewhat wholesome group of books in favor of “the Jonas Brothers and Hannah Montana and Twilight- oh, my gosh, Edward is hot” worries me (I think the kid was wearing the slap bracelet and lapel pin when she said that). 10-year-olds shouldn’t be so invested in hot actors, but that’s the way our nation is heading.
One of the reasons many of my friends give for loving the Twilight series is that it doesn’t make them think—it’s a beach book. Even so, there are bounties of other “beach books” that offer some sort of mental stimulation.
Maybe I’m being mean, but I did read the first book. I’m still not really sure what Bella did that would make Edward love her besides be alive and slightly boring, or why the plot was so confusing and predictable at the same time.
It seems to me the cost is measured in quality. Now that these books have been such a hit, who’s to say that the youth of the world won’t shun literature completely in favor of glorified three-dollar romance novels? God knows schools don’t get kids to enjoy tougher books. The English language itself has been declining as of late, and this sensation is only exacerbating the problem.
As my friends always say, the reason they read the books is that they are “fluff.” They don’t make you think. One of the only reasons they’re even interesting is that it’s easy for you to imagine yourself as Bella, having a hot sparkly vampire throw himself at you for not much effort on your part. That’s all fine and good—on occasion. Obsession with something so one-sided seems very out of place. But then again, maybe it’s really an obsession with the idea of being loved.
Did you know that Robert Pattinson, who plays Edward in the movies, hates the phenomenon? Not only did he read the books before he decided this, he also starred in the damned movie. He has a problem with girls throwing themselves at him every time he goes outside, and also, apparently, with poorly penned chick books. I’m sure he’s not that excited about having his face on aforementioned throw rugs and giant posters in pre-teens’ rooms across the globe. When I went to the mall last weekend, they were selling life-size cardboard cutouts. As I write, Pattinson is probably standing creepily over thousands of peoples’ beds as I write this.
My ultimate point is that mediocrity is not something to strive for, or to promote in the eyes of impressionable fledglings. Children love buying things that showcase their interests, so by putting twilight on practically everything, we are furthering our materialism in a seemingly harmless way.
Before you think about purchasing another “Team Edward” backpack, think about the impact it will have on everyone around you. Yes, Twilight may be “fun,” but it is not real, and should not be treated with so much gravity.
