Review Time: Twilight Series

Very recently I’ve been seeing mountainous piles of Stephenie Meyers’ latest book, The Host, taking up space in my local Barnes & Noble and looming over the other new releases like that damned obelisk from 2001. However, that’s a book for adults and I haven’t read it yet, but it seemed like a good excuse to review Mrs. Meyers’ other, more popular works, the Twilight series.

Now, before I begin, I just want to make a few things perfectly clear:

1) I haven’t read Eclipse, but after going through about 1,100 pages of an author’s work, I think I have a pretty good idea of how they do business and am entitled to an informed opinion.

2) I realize these books were not written for my demographic (that is, the twenty-something, embittered, shut-in male writer) so take what I’m saying with a grain of salt.

3) I am protected against Edward Cullen fangirls by a wide array of internet deities, so don’t even bother sending me a message or posting how much dear Eddie could beat me up or whatever.

Okay, let’s get started.

I think the Twilight series is pretty good.

Oh, weren’t expecting that now were you? What’s this?! Mssr. Jay saying something nice? About a vampire romance for teenage girls? Yes, shocking I know. Settle your affairs and tell your friends and family you love them because we’ve clearly come to the end of the world.

Here’s a quick recap for those of you that are not familiar with the world of Twilight:

Bella Swan is a very clumsy girl who just moved to a really shitty town called Forkes in Washington state. There she goes about ingratiating herself into a new school, making new friends, and learning about the mysterious, appallingly gorgeous Cullen family, particularly Edward Cullen. Welp, turns out Eddie and family are all vampires, but they’re nice, honest. They only eat animals, never people.

Soon enough, Bella becomes infatuated with Edward, and he with her, bringing up all sorts of relationship problems that probably make your most tortured high school romance seem like a day at the beach. As Bella gets to know Edward and the other Cullens better, things mellow out a bit until a new vampire coven, a people-eating one, come to town and make trouble for Bella and her new beau.

That’s Twilight, the first book. New Moon continues Bella’s story and introduces a larger view of vampire society, some werewolves, and a bunch of other stuff I don’t want to spoil, Eclipse carries things on further, and the series is set to end with Breaking Dawn.

Twilight and New Moon are not paragons of literary fiction, but they are fun. And again, I am about as far from the target demographic of squealing adolescent girls as Christopher Paolini is from an original idea (that’s a really long way, FYI). I will accept a lot of bad things from a book so long as the end result is that I am having fun while I read it. I find this especially important for YA books because I think it’s very important that young folks should have fun while reading, thus encouraging them to read more.

I also greatly appreciated Mrs. Meyers’ new spin on the rather stale vampire mythology. Meyers’ vampires are a bit too perfect if you ask me, but they’re original at least, and that’s preferable to the Anne Rice variety of gothy emo whiners that sulk in corners and lament how freaking pretty they are or something.

Meyers’ first person prose is convincing and enjoyable and easy to read despite the mastadonic size of the books (New Moon is almost 600 pages long and I think Eclipse is longer). However, the voice is of a high school girl and at times it can become truly irritating (so it’s quite accurate then isn’t it, har dee har har), what with Bella’s constant swooning over how gorgeous Edward is. How much he looks like a statue of some pagan god of beauty. How chiseled his jaw is, oh yes and his abs, or his arms, and his dangerous eyes. I feel like I should turn in my man card for admitting I read these books, but then I already turned it in long ago for confessing a love for the Princess Bride.

And that’s my big complaint with Meyers’ writing. She goes on. Not just about Edward, but about everything. Her books are all these huge things you could beat a rhino to death with and they don’t need to be. Each of them needs to get on a book treadmill and shed some pages. You could easily cut out 100 or more pages from Twilight and not lose much of the story. Yes fangirls, I just said Meyers should cut out some pages containing Edward Cullen, deal with it.

Meyers establishes character, mood, setting, etc. with enough skill that it all registers with me pretty early, but then she keeps going. And going. Then she spends some time mooning over Edward, then she goes on some more. I don’t know who her editor is, but they need a solid blow to the head with On Writing, or Elements of Style or something.

But it’s still fun. And to repeat myself, this is coming from a grown man. I can only imagine what sort of rabid glee the young ladies this book was written for must possess. Actually, I don’t have to imagine. I had the pleasure of seeing Mrs. Meyer in person on a couple of occasions, both times she was surrounded by a mob of girls that looked like their heads were about to explode from an overabundance of joy, and to relieve the pressure they had to make these funny little “squeeeee” noises. I got a chance to talk to her, congratulate her on her success, and ask her a few questions. I think after she got over the shock of a man being familiar with her work, she was incredibly friendly and a genuinely wonderful person. I always try and separate the artist from the art, and enjoy or loathe a work of art on its own merits and not the personality of its creator, but it never hurts when the creator is super nice in addition to having made something fun and enjoyable.

So that’s my long ramble on the Twilight series. I know it’s sort of vague, but I’m trying not to spoil it for all the young men who should be reading it so they can pick up more chicks.

Review Time: Grimpow- First Impressions

I'm actually a pretty nice fellow. I do not spend my evenings coming up with new ways to make children cry, beating up kittens, or stealing from the elderly. I'm not so bad, really. Which is why I'm hesitant to post something negative on the tails of my rather vitriolic response to Mr. Itzkoff's article. I don't want to give you, Dear Reader, the impression that I am a cranky old man on the internet, shriveled black heart pumping lemon juice and battery acid through my withered veins. My veins and actually quite un-withered and I hate lemon juice. Still, I think my intentions here are good: to warn you to avoid Grimpow: The Invisible Road by Rafael Abalos at all costs. This is for your own good. Trust me.

I will occasionally write reviews for a literary magazine that focuses on the YA market. Sometimes, these books are a pleasant surprise and a real delight. Other times, they are a nightmarish shock that lessen my faith in humanity and make me question the existence of a higher power. Grimpow wasn't quite that bad, but it was still a stinker. It may not make me question God's existence, but it does make me wonder just what the hell he was up to the day this book was given the green light.

You'll notice in the title of this post that it says "First Impressions," and you're probably wondering what that means. It means the book was such a dull, frustrating chore that I couldn't finish the bloody thing. So let's get into the dirty, unpleasent specifics.

By about the third page of the book, one of the characters has already made mention of destiny. Ugh. Barely half a chapter in and already I'm getting hit with that old standby. I hate destiny. What I hate more is when authors wield it with all the finesse of a blind man with a sledgehammer. Especially when it's delivered in a truly clumsy and ham-handed manner by one of the other characters. Example:

"'Keep [the stone],' Durlib instructed mysteriously, eyes wide as full moons. 'From now on, this stone will be tied to your destiny.'" (Abalos, 5)

When I read this, I see Durlib, Grimpow's morally questionable older buddy, waving his hands around and making "WHHHOOOOO" noises, with the narration delivered by Mr. Vincent Price. This may be partly due to my innate dislike of adverbs in fiction, but really, the lines just smack of cheese and B-Movies. Especially since we get the "It's tied to your DESTINY" bit just a short while later.

The Destiny in question is between Grimpow, a somewhat forgettable young protagonist, and a stone he finds clutched in the cold, dead hand of a man lying in the snow. The stone is (I believe) the Philosopher's Stone. Double ugh.

In the world of fantasy or pseudo-fantasy writing, there are some things that have been beaten to death and should be avoided. Most notably, these are: Any sort of magical sword, Atlantis, any kind of magic ring, and the Philosopher's Stone. There's lots more and some day in the future I might make a post about it, but let's move on for now. The aforementioned things are pretty well overused to the point of them becoming absurd. There are exceptions of course, though not many. In Grimpow's case, it just doesn't work, mate.

The dialogue doesn't really work either. It's clunky and awkward, and pulled me out of the narrative many times. Characters either sound too stilted, too dramatic, or too philosophical. I don't mind books that wax philosophical, but a good author can get complicated ideas and big questions into the story in a very smooth, natural way. Abalos does not. He chucks them into the story like a child throwing cinder blocks into a pond.

There's lots of historical elements, like the Knights Templar and stuff about ancient castles and inquisitorial guys and so on, but it gets very dull very fast and just makes the book seem like it's a Johnny-Come-Lately to the whole DaVinci Code craze.

I gave Grimpow a fair shot. I didn't read the opening chapter and throw it aside in disgust (though I was tempted). I got 100 pages in before finally giving up. You have defeated me Sr. Abalos. Well-played I suppose. So Grimpow kind of stinks, and while it isn't the worst book ever written by any means, you and any young readers you may know would be better served seeking literary entertainment elsewhere.

It's your destiny.
WHHHHOOOOOO