Twilight, Chapter One: Daddy-Daughter Time
Mar. 7th, 2012 10:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lliiraTrigger warning: serious creepiness in a father-daughter relationship.
Charlie calls Bella "Bells." I feel sorry for her.
Charlie buys Bella a truck without consulting her. I feel this is like how Frank Churchill buys Jane Fairfax a piano without consulting her in Jane Austen's Emma. I concur with Mr. Knightley's opinion on the subject:
Surprises are foolish things. The pleasure is not enhanced, and the inconvenience is often considerable.
This truck is over twenty years old, and now Bella is going to have to deal with the thing. Like Frank Churchill, Charlie gives a woman he cares about a big gift without asking her what her feelings on the subject are. And I am starting to suspect that like Frank, Charlie isn't really concerned with the feelings of the recipient of his gift. He wants to be the big man bestowing largesse. Whether Charlie will change and realize that this gift was a white elephant remains to be seen. It seems unlikely, since unlike Jane Fairfax, Bella Swan just shrugs and says "I really appreciate it." Already, on page 7, I am irritated by Bella not standing up for herself.
On page 8, we learn that Charlie is so emotionally stunted that he's embarrassed when his daughter thanks him for the truck. Maybe he senses, on some level, that she isn't all that thankful, or at least that she shouldn't be. When Bella sees the truck, she loves it, and when she gives him her real, heartfelt thanks, he reacts with embarrassment. Again. Eesh.
On page 9, we get some competent writing. Bella's unpacking in her room, and she's glad that Charlie leaves her alone. (And doesn't even offer to help -- again, eesh to this guy.)
It was nice to be alone, to not have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window and let just a few tears escape.
That sentence is not beautiful (or grammatical), but it gets the job done. Bella is living in a place she hates, with a distant father who doesn't consult her about a large purchase that's ostensibly for her, and who is so uncomfortable with emotions that even his daughter thanking him makes him embarrassed. She's chosen to come here for some reason we still don't know, but which is obviously not for her own good. And when she's around people, she smiles and looks pleased, no matter how miserable she is.
This is a girl who has absorbed the lessons of patriarchy all too well. Don't consider yourself in the decisions that affect you. When your life is crap, smile. Don't show any emotions that might be awkward for other people to see. As a teenager, she should be thinking about and planning for her future and having fun with friends. Her worries should be schoolwork and her social life. She should not be going through this nonsense -- her parents should have disallowed it. It's their job to take care of her, not vice versa. But more on this later.
On page 10, Bella claims she can't play sports without hurting herself and others. Bella's already been shown to be a bit snarky in her thoughts, and if I were coming into this unspoiled, I would think she was joking. She dwells on her appearance for almost a page; it's one reason she feels like "a freak." Being "ivory-skinned" isn't that strange for a brunette, but she thinks it is. But I think her feelings of freakishness all stem from one thing:
I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn't relate well to people, period.
So here, in a couple pages, we've established that Bella is odd and feels odd. Appearance aside, she can't play sports and she has difficulty relating to anyone. I've seen people claim that it's easy for the reader to project herself onto Bella, because Bella doesn't have much personality. I would argue with that. Bella avoids showing her feelings, she's extremely clumsy, she puts herself last, she's uncomfortable with the paleness of her skin, she thinks of her dad as "Charlie," she loves sunshine and hates rain, and she has trouble relating to people. I think I have a good idea of her personality and she is an unusual person, particularly for that last part. This is not a character I could project myself onto.
On page 11, Bella continues her misery, and we get more good writing. Bella looks around the kitchen and observes:
Nothing was changed.
Charlie has kept the house the same for the past eighteen years. He even left his wedding picture up. He also put every single school picture of Bella's in the family room, plus one of her right after she was born. By my count, that's twelve pictures of her in one room. When I read that, a shiver went up my spine, literally, and I felt like I was reading a novel that would become a Hitchcock film. Says Bella:
It was impossible, being in this house, not to realize that Charlie had never gotten over my mom. It made me uncomfortable.
Especially because Bella looks just like her mom and Charlie has a dozen pictures of Bella in the family room.
I have to take a break -- this is too disturbing.
Charlie calls Bella "Bells." I feel sorry for her.
Charlie buys Bella a truck without consulting her. I feel this is like how Frank Churchill buys Jane Fairfax a piano without consulting her in Jane Austen's Emma. I concur with Mr. Knightley's opinion on the subject:
Surprises are foolish things. The pleasure is not enhanced, and the inconvenience is often considerable.
This truck is over twenty years old, and now Bella is going to have to deal with the thing. Like Frank Churchill, Charlie gives a woman he cares about a big gift without asking her what her feelings on the subject are. And I am starting to suspect that like Frank, Charlie isn't really concerned with the feelings of the recipient of his gift. He wants to be the big man bestowing largesse. Whether Charlie will change and realize that this gift was a white elephant remains to be seen. It seems unlikely, since unlike Jane Fairfax, Bella Swan just shrugs and says "I really appreciate it." Already, on page 7, I am irritated by Bella not standing up for herself.
On page 8, we learn that Charlie is so emotionally stunted that he's embarrassed when his daughter thanks him for the truck. Maybe he senses, on some level, that she isn't all that thankful, or at least that she shouldn't be. When Bella sees the truck, she loves it, and when she gives him her real, heartfelt thanks, he reacts with embarrassment. Again. Eesh.
On page 9, we get some competent writing. Bella's unpacking in her room, and she's glad that Charlie leaves her alone. (And doesn't even offer to help -- again, eesh to this guy.)
It was nice to be alone, to not have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window and let just a few tears escape.
That sentence is not beautiful (or grammatical), but it gets the job done. Bella is living in a place she hates, with a distant father who doesn't consult her about a large purchase that's ostensibly for her, and who is so uncomfortable with emotions that even his daughter thanking him makes him embarrassed. She's chosen to come here for some reason we still don't know, but which is obviously not for her own good. And when she's around people, she smiles and looks pleased, no matter how miserable she is.
This is a girl who has absorbed the lessons of patriarchy all too well. Don't consider yourself in the decisions that affect you. When your life is crap, smile. Don't show any emotions that might be awkward for other people to see. As a teenager, she should be thinking about and planning for her future and having fun with friends. Her worries should be schoolwork and her social life. She should not be going through this nonsense -- her parents should have disallowed it. It's their job to take care of her, not vice versa. But more on this later.
On page 10, Bella claims she can't play sports without hurting herself and others. Bella's already been shown to be a bit snarky in her thoughts, and if I were coming into this unspoiled, I would think she was joking. She dwells on her appearance for almost a page; it's one reason she feels like "a freak." Being "ivory-skinned" isn't that strange for a brunette, but she thinks it is. But I think her feelings of freakishness all stem from one thing:
I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn't relate well to people, period.
So here, in a couple pages, we've established that Bella is odd and feels odd. Appearance aside, she can't play sports and she has difficulty relating to anyone. I've seen people claim that it's easy for the reader to project herself onto Bella, because Bella doesn't have much personality. I would argue with that. Bella avoids showing her feelings, she's extremely clumsy, she puts herself last, she's uncomfortable with the paleness of her skin, she thinks of her dad as "Charlie," she loves sunshine and hates rain, and she has trouble relating to people. I think I have a good idea of her personality and she is an unusual person, particularly for that last part. This is not a character I could project myself onto.
On page 11, Bella continues her misery, and we get more good writing. Bella looks around the kitchen and observes:
Nothing was changed.
Charlie has kept the house the same for the past eighteen years. He even left his wedding picture up. He also put every single school picture of Bella's in the family room, plus one of her right after she was born. By my count, that's twelve pictures of her in one room. When I read that, a shiver went up my spine, literally, and I felt like I was reading a novel that would become a Hitchcock film. Says Bella:
It was impossible, being in this house, not to realize that Charlie had never gotten over my mom. It made me uncomfortable.
Especially because Bella looks just like her mom and Charlie has a dozen pictures of Bella in the family room.
I have to take a break -- this is too disturbing.
