Last week when I was asked by Poptart what my favorite scene in the Twilight book or movie is, I answered that it was the "reveal" scene in the movie. I am a HUGE sucker for that whole "Say it. Out loud." thing. Every time I watch the movie (which is frequently - I'll admit it), I find myself rewinding that scene and watching it a second time. Or maybe a third. In slow motion. Because I am a dork like that (or possibly unbalanced... wtf is wrong with all of us???). Anyway, I was pretty comfortable with my answer until I came across "the meadow" chapters in the book recently. It's been a little while since I have read this part, but I have gotten into the habit of lulling myself off to sleep by reading a few pages of Twilight. It's familiar territory and helps me to relax (my brain doesn't really have an "off" switch). Or maybe it's just part of my efforts--in vain thus far--to have very Twilighty dreams. I'll never tell.
Anyway, I stand by my choice of fave movie scene, but I have to say that the meadow chapters are my most-loved book passages. Those pages, for me, really capture the essence of why I fell head-over-heels for the whole saga in the first place. It's easy to knock Stephenie Meyer's writing, and I'll admit that we have raked her 'style' over the coals once or twice here at Twitarded. I think most of us here willing to admit that it is not great literature. There was a recent series of posts over at the NPR entertainment blog Monkey See critiquing Twilight. And I get it (the blog posts are actually pretty funny in some parts, so if you can stand someone making fun of our beloved books - and I know most of you can - check it out). They say that Edward and Bella's relationship lacks substance. That it's all fire and no heat. But I beg to differ.
Rereading this part of the novel just brings me back to that amazing rush of first love. And let's face it: teenage love wasn't always based on much more than emotion. It's also so much 'purer' and exciting (with much less baggage) than adult relationships. Jenny Jerkface wrote about an article that summed up the "young love" appeal of Twilight a few months back - you can read it here. Falling in love as a teenager is different - rightfully so - from the complexity of adult relationships. In the meadow, they get to spend time alone, and while it's not particularly racy, there is something very pure and innocent yet sensual about the way they touch each other, exploring each other's faces. This passage in particular captures the feeling -
I caressed his cheek, delicately stroked his his eyelid, the purple shadow in the hollow under his eye. I traces the shape of his perfect nose, and then, so carefully, his flawless lips. His lips parted under my hand, and I could feel his cool breath on my fingertips. I wanted to lean in, to inhale the scent of him.
I remember doing just that, at that age (ok, maybe the "cool breath" part would be a little off, but close enough). Running your fingertips over the planes of someone's cheek, caressing their eyelids, gently touching their lips. I used to doodle the profile of my then-boyfriend's face when I was bored in class, because I was fascinated by his features. It was an exhilarating part of being in love at that age, when you were just getting the first delicious tastes of the object of your desire. When Edward runs his lips along her jawline, slowly, from one ear to another, I say there is plenty of heat, thank you very much.
So do we mercilessly poke fun at the series sometimes? You betcha. But are we certain that we love these books in a semi-unhealthy way and that we wouldn't change that for the world. Except maybe a world filled with Cullens and the cool, delicious breath of vampires.