Quite recently I found myself lucky enough to have Kristy come visit, and, being the lovely house guest that she is, Kristy brought gifts. Well, one was a gift. The other may turn out to be a curse: it was a used copy of Twilight. Ostensibly this is so that I could plug into pop-culture without actually having to shell out hard earned money for the experience (incidentally, this copy had circulated amongst several people for this purpose). However, I was more than a bit dubious of all this. The part of me that abhors ignorance–even ignorance of pop-culture–felt the need to be informed, but….
Cammy doesn’t do vampires.
It took major cajoling a full 4 years after Angel had been cancelled for friends to convince me to even start watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I’ve never read an Anne Rice novel, and the only movie version I saw was Queen of the Damned which I went to with friends who were fans: I spent the entire movie trying very hard not to regurgitate the tacquitos I’d had at Don Pablo’s just before. You see, the primary problem I have with vampires is that the mere thought of drinking blood makes me turn green and reach for the waste-basket. Combine this with the fact that even without the slurping or graphic images of blood dribbling down the sides of the mouth, the entire vampire mythos has been a little over-done in the past decade and a half. It’s gotten to the point that every time a new book or movie about vampires comes out, I roll my eyes at the cliche of it all. I don’t find vampires mysterious and intriguing, I find them kind of annoying and old-hat.
As if the vampire bit wasn’t enough, Twilight is teen angst, something which I loathed when I was a teenager myself, and have gained no patience for in my advancing age. I had a non-negligible amount of trauma in my teen years (something more than being teased in gym or not getting boys to like me or not getting to sit at the popular table or whatever the hell these brats bitch and moan about), and I never found the whining of these fictional teen-angst heroines to be remotely realistic in comparison to actual problems. It sure doesn’t seem any more important when you’re an adult.
So, really, Twilight by virtue of its genre and subject matter does not start off well in my eyes.
But, Kristy didn’t give me a choice. So, knowing I had a business trip to Santa Barbara coming up, I decided that Twilight would be my plane-and-beach reading. A business trip to California just seems to cry out for trashy reading material and I am apparently just not able to buy or check-out a trashy romance novel (that’s a topic of an entirely different blog entry). While this isn’t going to be a bodice ripper, I’m pretty sure the potential for brain-rot is just as high.
And, even though critiquing Twilight is almost as hack as the book itself, I found myself compelled to make notes as I read. And if I was going to make notes, I ought to share right? For the near-future, we’d like to introduce you to It’s My TV, It’s My Peanut Butter‘s first mini-series: Cammy Reads Twilight. Stay tuned to this blog.