Hang on tight, spider monkey. These two Twihards are taking a trip down memory lane.
My name is Edward Segarra, and I first came across "Twilight," Stephenie Meyer's seminal 2005 vampire romance, in the fall of 2008.
Then, the novel's much-anticipated film adaptation starring Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson was nearing its theatrical debut, and I couldn't seem to escape images of the evocative movie poster: Bella Swan (Stewart) staring longingly ahead as she clings to her immortal beau Edward Cullen (Pattinson), who towers above her with a forlorn smolder.
As a sixth grader whose reading diet primarily consisted of Scholastic Book Fair selections, my familiarity with vampire lore was nonexistent. Call it curiosity, but I couldn't get Bella and Edward out of my prepubescent brain.
My aunt gifted me "Twilight" that Christmas, and I devoured the nearly 500-page book in 2 ½ days. Bella and Edward's all-consuming love felt so riveting and passionate that I couldn't turn the pages fast enough. The Cullen boy had sunk his teeth into me.
My name is KiMi Robinson, and I first heard of the book that would change my adolescence in seventh grade homeroom, around June 2007. My friends' plot summary? Wholly unimpressive. But for some reason, I still picked up "Twilight" at my local Barnes & Noble's children's section, quickly followed by "New Moon" and "Eclipse."
But it wasn't until I entered high school that I reached my final Twihard form. I was one of a handful of newcomers in the class, and starting a club seemed to be the best way to meet new friends with similar interests. Seventeen years later, while at a high school reunion, a woman I recognized as a few years my senior approached me and said: "You were the 'Twilight' girl." I was as mortified as when I told Meyer herself about my "Twilight" high school club at a 2013 book signing, only for her to respond, "Wow, that makes me feel old."
Nonetheless, all these years later, I have such a soft spot for the books that helped build the foundation for my teen social life — and the movies that I can quote word-for-word during my all-too-frequent rewatches.
Now that these Twihards are a little older and (hopefully) less bloodthirsty, we take an honest look back at the book that sparked our enduring love for the iconic vampire series. And don't worry; we were unsparing in our thoughts.
Bella is turned off by Edward at first, and so are we
Segarra's take: Bella and Edward may be canon romance nowadays, but looking back, it's easy to see why love at first sight wasn't in the cards for these two.
Despite his impeccable physical beauty, Edward sours his first impression with Bella due to his hot-and-cold demeanor. One day, he's seemingly repulsed by Bella and can barely sit next to her in their biology class and the next he makes pleasant conversation as if nothing ever happened.
We later learn this strange aloofness is because of Edward's blood diet, but understandably, our girl Bella is fed up. The teen’s feisty inner dialogue detailing her frustrations is a palate cleanser for the sheen of romantic fantasy often associated with "Twilight."
Aside from his attitude, Edward is a walking red flag with his cryptic commentary. "It would be more prudent for you not to be my friend, but I'm tired of trying to stay away from you," Edward cautions Bella in one scene. It's giving "Dateline NBC" suspense instead of whirlwind romance.
Robinson's take: Yes, objectively, we want to be staying away from mercurial romantic interests who give you emotional whiplash. But rereading the beginnings of these teens' romance with 18 more years of love and life experiences under my belt, I still got it. I understood why I was so bought into this toxic love story.
When Edward (as we learn in 2020's "Midnight Sun") was better fed, deciding to embrace mind over matter and reintroduce himself to Bella, he was so charming. In attempting to understand his potential prey's motivations for moving to his neck of the woods, he asked her all about herself. Though clearly our heroine doesn't enjoy being subjected to this amount of attention, I've found that it's rare to find someone who is so unabashedly intrigued and insatiable in their quest to understand you.
But then he ruins any goodwill by turning around and warning Bella to stay away from him. These days, we might call it intermittent reinforcement or emotional manipulation; but I was surprised that Edward's behavior was still keeping me on the hook.
Edward becomes Bella's 'angel,' but the devil is in the disturbing details
Segarra's take: The lamb may have fallen in love with the lion, but a predator is still a predator.
As Bella and Edward become closer, our young heroine not only romanticizes the vampire's ethereal good looks, but also the dominance and constant surveillance of his courtship.
When Edward saves Bella from danger in Port Angeles and later confesses that he'd been tracking her whereabouts, Bella describes feeling a "strange surge of pleasure." As her romantic feelings intensify, Bella describes Edward as an "angel," a "godlike creature" and even her "perpetual savior."
While my preteen innocence was quite taken with Edward's passionate pursuit of Bella, or so I framed it, the obsession-like desire and lack of boundaries register as deeply unsettling in my adult brain.
Robinson's take: I agree that the major overstepping of boundaries is disturbing, no matter how Meyer tries to justify it in "Midnight Sun" by doubling down on the fact that this is a supernatural creature in a fictional world.
But even more clear to me this go-around was that Bella's idolization of Edward comes from a horrifyingly insecure place. As they bond after the distressing near-assault scene in Port Angeles, she tells Edward, "Well look at me. I'm absolutely ordinary."
Just a few chapters later, she follows up with this terrible line of thinking after learning about Edward's favorite nighttime hobby of watching her sleep: "'You spied on me?' But somehow, I couldn't infuse my voice with the proper outrage. I was flattered."
This kind of thinking manifests in a maddening tendency toward self-sacrifice that Bella exhibits from the very first pages, with her voluntarily leaving her hometown of Phoenix for Forks, Washington (a town she thinks about with "horror") to give her mom privacy in a new relationship. And, of course, the entire arc with James at the end is a misguided attempt to save the Cullen clan.
No, Bella! Have more respect for yourself!
'Twilight' maintains firm bite with whirlwind romance, action
Segarra's take: For many of its critics, "Twilight" is no "Romeo and Juliet." But if you ask me, the paranormal romance still has some literary teeth.
The novel's now-iconic meadow scene, during which Bella and Edward have a tender heart-to-heart after Edward's vampire identity is confirmed, is just as swoon-worthy as it was when I was 11 years old. "Bella, I couldn't live with myself if I ever hurt you," Edward says at one point. "You are the most important thing to me now." The intensity may be a bit overwrought in hindsight, but hey, can you really fault a lonely vampire?
The ageless charm of "Twilight" doesn't lie in just its larger-than-life romance. The final third of the book seamlessly cranks up the action when tracker vampire James and his bloodthirsty cronies, Laurent and Victoria, take an unsavory interest in Bella. Meyer's vivid descriptions paint a harrowing picture that holds up just as well as the film version's finale scenes.
Robinson's take: Though I was no less taken by this romance in its earlier chapters now than when I was 12 years old, I closed the book infuriated. And I can't help but bite back.
When I cracked open the very same book I'd picked up at my hometown Barnes & Noble nearly two decades ago, it felt like jumping into a "Pensieve" (excuse the millennial "Harry Potter" reference). I was reuniting with an old friend, except she had reverted back to her original form, not the more fully developed character she'd become by the time my eyes traced over the final words in "Breaking Dawn."
It was a thrilling experience, even though I knew exactly how the story ended — or so I'd thought. Because as it turns out, I'd conveniently forgotten how "Twilight" ended in favor of the version shown in Catherine Hardwicke's film (the only one in the five-film franchise directed by a woman).
In the epilogue, Edward kidnaps Bella. He has her dress up, and — believing he knows what's best for her — steals her off to the dreaded prom, an event he's deemed a seminal human experience. "If you weren't 1,000 times stronger than me, I would never have let you get away with this," Bella, still recovering from her injuries from James' attack, tells her manipulative vampire beau.
What?!
This is an unacceptable physical and emotional power dynamic, even in a fantasy. And though I was oh-so charmed when I delved back into the comfort of this love story between a 17-year-old high schooler and a 104-year-old immortal creature, I was left angsty for all the wrong reasons.
This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: The Cullens are ageless, but is 'Twilight'? Revisiting the vampire romance 20 years later
Reporting by Edward Segarra and KiMi Robinson, USA TODAY / USA TODAY
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