Prepare Yourself ...
...to see the depths of my nerdiness.
My sister Michelle has been reading the Stephenie Meyer's Twlight series, veritable teen phenomenon, and I have endlessly made fun of her. It's about a girl that falls in love with a vampire. Anne Rice meets Sweet Valley High. Right?
Well, wrong. Kind of. She lent me the books at my sister's birthday party, insisting I give them a chance. I laughed at her, then took them home anyway.
I didn't start reading until Saturday afternoon, and I finished them - all 1792 pages - last night. Ok, so the text is large and the pages have a lot of white space, but they are still pretty hefty. I couldn't help myself. It's addicting.
But I, being me, can't let well enough alone. I have a Bachelors Degree in English. Why do I love these books so much?
When I googled "total number of pages in Twilight series" (yeah right, like did the math myself), someone described the books as a "you-have-to-read-them-to-understand" kind of series, and that person was right.
On the surface, it's pretty dumb. Below the surface, it's still pretty dumb. But these are books for young adults, and all the words are simple. It's reading you don't have to work for.
And when I read, I don't have an inner monologue, I don't read aloud in my head. I see the words, I know them. Words and I are friends, we have had a long and torrid relationship. So I don't really read a book like Twilight, it happens to me. I've often described it as watching a movie, but more fun, more engrossing.
There are even a few elements of the story that - combined with the language - have me still obsessing, excited to read the most recent 500+ page extravaganza.
The way the female protagonist is loved by her male admirers is the kind we spend our lives searching for. A love that you can not live without, that keeps you safe and makes you shiver no matter how much time passes and how many mistakes you make. Meyer gives this impossible love a color, a smell, makes it real, then places it up against all possible odds, and shows you a world where love can survive any betrayal. That is not how it is in this world. But everyone wishes, at least once in their life, that it was.
All the facts are over established, there aren't many new characters. So the simple language takes you deep.
It's embarassing, but I feel like these people are my friends. Or they would be if I were lucky enough to live in the world they inhabit.
Maybe this post is just my way of justifying how much time I spent with my nose in these books for the past four days. Many people would probably disagree with my assessment, laugh off my "analysis," but I'm willing to bet they either a) didn't read them or b) didn't give them a chance.
It was beautiful and relaxing to throw myself so obsessively into something so easy. A very private act, a guilty pleasure.
And I can't wait to read the last book!
My sister Michelle has been reading the Stephenie Meyer's Twlight series, veritable teen phenomenon, and I have endlessly made fun of her. It's about a girl that falls in love with a vampire. Anne Rice meets Sweet Valley High. Right?
Well, wrong. Kind of. She lent me the books at my sister's birthday party, insisting I give them a chance. I laughed at her, then took them home anyway.
I didn't start reading until Saturday afternoon, and I finished them - all 1792 pages - last night. Ok, so the text is large and the pages have a lot of white space, but they are still pretty hefty. I couldn't help myself. It's addicting.
But I, being me, can't let well enough alone. I have a Bachelors Degree in English. Why do I love these books so much?
When I googled "total number of pages in Twilight series" (yeah right, like did the math myself), someone described the books as a "you-have-to-read-them-to-understand" kind of series, and that person was right.
On the surface, it's pretty dumb. Below the surface, it's still pretty dumb. But these are books for young adults, and all the words are simple. It's reading you don't have to work for.
And when I read, I don't have an inner monologue, I don't read aloud in my head. I see the words, I know them. Words and I are friends, we have had a long and torrid relationship. So I don't really read a book like Twilight, it happens to me. I've often described it as watching a movie, but more fun, more engrossing.
There are even a few elements of the story that - combined with the language - have me still obsessing, excited to read the most recent 500+ page extravaganza.
The way the female protagonist is loved by her male admirers is the kind we spend our lives searching for. A love that you can not live without, that keeps you safe and makes you shiver no matter how much time passes and how many mistakes you make. Meyer gives this impossible love a color, a smell, makes it real, then places it up against all possible odds, and shows you a world where love can survive any betrayal. That is not how it is in this world. But everyone wishes, at least once in their life, that it was.
All the facts are over established, there aren't many new characters. So the simple language takes you deep.
It's embarassing, but I feel like these people are my friends. Or they would be if I were lucky enough to live in the world they inhabit.
Maybe this post is just my way of justifying how much time I spent with my nose in these books for the past four days. Many people would probably disagree with my assessment, laugh off my "analysis," but I'm willing to bet they either a) didn't read them or b) didn't give them a chance.
It was beautiful and relaxing to throw myself so obsessively into something so easy. A very private act, a guilty pleasure.
And I can't wait to read the last book!
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