Continuing the theme from last week, I want to talk about another faux love story that’s still pretty ubiquitous. Twilight. If you read my review of Renée Ahdieh’s The Beautiful, you’ll know that I hate the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. I. Hate. It. I’ll admit that I sometimes watch the movie to make fun of it because, let’s face it, no one did their best work in that film. Every part of that movie was terrible, except for Billy Burke, who successfully played the only likeable character, Charlie Swan.
But I digress. It’s not just the movie that’s bad. It’s the book. It’s the story, and more particularly the love story. You guys, the romance between Edward and Bella is twisted. It is, in no way, a depiction of a healthy relationship.
Can we start with the fact that Edward sneaks into Bella’s room and watches her sleep? I cannot get over how creepy that is. I’d be weirded out if my husband watched me sleep for more than a few seconds, and I go to sleep already knowing he’s there! Let’s be honest. If Edward wasn’t oh-so-handsome, the thought of him (a 100 year old man) breaking into a teenage girl’s room to watch her sleep would give everyone the heebie-jeebies.
Edward is also super controlling. He tells her what she can do, where she can go, and who she can be friends with, all “for her protection,” of course. Gross.
Their whole relationship is based on this weird animal attraction that they have for one another. They’re invested in one another before they even have a decent conversation. All that Bella seems to care about is that Edward is super hot. No one has yet been able to explain to me why Edward likes Bella, because she has zero personality. To quote Bob’s Burgers, “If she was a spice, she’d be flour.”
The entire series is literal garbage. In the second book, Edward makes the executive decision to leave Bella “for her protection.” Gag. Bella literally curls up in the fetal position and refuses to move. Then she spends the next year of her life moping. She decides to take life-threatening risks because somehow she hears Edward’s voice telling her not to be stupid. Seriously, it’s so messed up. Girls, for the record, if a boy dumps you, you cry to your friends and eat a bunch of ice cream. You don’t crash a motorcycle and jump off a cliff. Also, Edward is so upset by not being with Bella that he tries to commit suicide. None of this is healthy.
And to top it all off, once they finally do get married, Bella is left with bruises after the first time they have sex. That’s abuse, people. “Edward is just so strong, he can’t help it.” Sorry, that’s not gonna fly with me. Then she gets pregnant and dies.
The Twilight franchise depicts obsession, abuse, depression, and suicide attempts. It doesn’t depict a healthy, loving relationship. The end.
I want to touch on another topic that really grinds my gears. Can we talk about Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy? Their story is a love story, by the way, but it’s been distorted and turned into a trope that is really gross. Allow me to explain.
Elizabeth and Darcy meet and she overhears him say that she’s not good-looking enough to entice him to ask her to dance. She decides that he’s a jerk. He kind of is a jerk.
He eventually realizes that he loves her and wants to marry her, but his proposal is filled with backhanded compliments and he basically tells her that he loves her so much that he’ll condescend to marry her. Elizabeth, who has some dignity, rejects him and calls him out on being an enormous bonehead.
He accepts her rejection. That’s it. He doesn’t try to convince her that she’s wrong. He does write a letter to explain a circumstance about which she’s misinformed, but he doesn’t continue to pursue her. He understands that no means no. He also takes her rejection as an opportunity to reflect on his behavior. He grows up a little, learning how to be kinder and less pompous.
Meanwhile, Elizabeth has some growing up to do, too. She discovers that her faith in Mr. Wickham was misplaced. She struggles with self-reproach when she discovers that her secrecy led to her sister, Lydia, running way with Mr. Wickham. Mr. Darcy ends up saving the day and ensuring that Wickham and Lydia get married, (mostly) sparing Elizabeth and her family from humiliation and ruin. He does this with no motive other than love.
When Elizabeth and Darcy are reunited, they have both changed. He has learned to treat people with respect, and she’s learned to look beyond the façade to see the man. They’re ready for one another now.
That, my friends, is a love story. It’s about two imperfect people who are made better by their association with the other. But tragically, all some people have taken from this story is “Handsome man treats woman like garbage but really loves her.” So many Young Adult books seem to follow this trope and it’s really starting to grate on me. Off the top of my head, I can think of several YA books in which the love interest is a huge jerk: The Cruel Prince by Holly Black, Cruel Beauty by Rosamund Hodge, and Uprooted and Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik. Can we all agree to just stop this? It’s not cool, and it sets young people up to believe that it’s okay for your partner to treat you like trash. Can we not?
