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Twilight, Chapter Two: Babeland's Better, Bella (p.43-47)
TW: Sexual harassment, gaslighting, sexism
In an attempt to shield myself against the rays of awfulness streaming from Meyer's dark tome, I am listening to Ani DiFranco's Living In Clip. Hopefully Ani will allow me to soldier on in the face of an unbearable protaganist, her creepy father, and their mutual worship of disturbing rich white pretty people.
Edward looks like "a commercial for hair gel" (43). His voice is "quiet, musical" (43) and his laugh is "soft, enchanting" (44). In the next eight pages, Bella/Meyer describes his features as dazzling, flawless, beautiful, striking, "a distraction" (48), perfect, and beautiful (again). That's an average of just under one mention of Edward's dazzlingness per page. So, I guess Bella finds Edward somewhat attractive. I thought I'd better highlight this, because Meyer's writing is so subtle, it's easy to miss. Oh, and I still don't know what Edward's hair color is.
On those same eight pages, to describe her own actions and feelings, Bella uses words like stupid, moron, awkward, idiot, flushing, confident (!), clumsy, unsuccessful, unthinking, crazy, sheepish, paranoid, stupid (again), dull, glum, irritated, and dreary. "Words like" because she uses adverb forms of nearly all those words. On every page, she also says things like:
he was obviously wondering if I was mentally competent. (44)
Edward sits next to Bella and is actually nice to her, for a certain value of nice that encompasses "manipulative." Starting a conversation that will go on for the next nine pages, he says:
I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. (43)
Congratulations Edward, you just went from "jerk" to "creepy-ass jerk"! You and Bella's dad should get along great.
Let's unpack this sentence, as my history theory professor would say. First, it's a lie. Edward could have introduced himself during the hour of biology, or before or after that class, or when they ran into each other in the office after school. Instead, he spent the time acting like he wanted to rip Bella's heart out of her chest.
If Edward regrets acting like a colossal jackass toward Bella, he should apologize. If he's too embarrassed or too callous to do that, he could simply introduce himself, without adding the lie. Why does he lie?
Simple: to gaslight her. The guy who sexually harassed me in high school -- hereafter known as "Fion" in honor of the fact that we were in French class together for four years -- pulled this stuff all the time. He'd do or say something horrible one day, then the next day act like he'd always been my friend and he was hurt by my resentment.
Bella's reaction feels familiar to me:
My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? He was perfectly polite now. (44)
They do the lab together, and Edward's language is weird. He says:
Or I could start, if you wish.
Bella doesn't notice his odd turn of phrase because she's too busy brooding on how great he looks and hating herself. For once, though, she does something. She shows off "just a little" (45) for Edward, since she did this lab back in Phoenix. I like that she tries to impress a boy she's attracted to with her scientific knowledge. But I had to read page 45 three times (ugh) because of the following:
"Anaphase," he murmured, writing it down as he spoke.
I kept my voice indifferent. "May I?"
He smirked and pushed the microscope to me.
I looked through the eyepiece eagerly, only to be disappointed. Dang it, he was right.
I re-read because I thought Bella must have initially identified the slide as prophase, since otherwise why would she be disappointed that Edward was right? But no, she's disappointed that Edward is right... just because, I guess. Maybe she thinks there's a certain amount of rightness in the world, and now there's a little less for her.
Bella and Edward are all not-touching and static-shocky, the usual stuff, which if done competently can be pretty sexy. Meyer does not do it competently. Maybe if it weren't buried in Bella hating herself and Edward lying and smirking and dazzling, it could work. But then the book would be entirely different.
Edward's eye color has changed since Bella last stared at him, and she notices this fact and does something again. Of her own free will, Bella asks another person a question about himself. She has been so aggressively grouchy and anti-social until now, this is a shocking development. Edward's like a battery for this girl, and if you want to make a vibrator joke I won't stop you.
So, Bella asks Edward, did you get contacts? Edward shrugs and looks away, and Bella wonders if "Forks was making me crazy in the literal sense of the word" (46). No, Bella, Edward's just a creepy douche.
The teacher checks their results and assumes Edward did all the work, since all the answers are correct. Teachers still often treat girls as incompetent, so chalk one up for Meyer in the depressing realism department. Edward ("automatically" for some reason) tells the teacher Bella did 3/5 of the work, but the teacher's skeptical, and cross-examines Bella about her previous coursework. We learn that Bella was in an AP science class in Phoenix. The teacher has a real problem accepting this stuff, but finally does -- mumbling to himself -- and wanders off.
Then Bella and Edward talk for four pages.
In an attempt to shield myself against the rays of awfulness streaming from Meyer's dark tome, I am listening to Ani DiFranco's Living In Clip. Hopefully Ani will allow me to soldier on in the face of an unbearable protaganist, her creepy father, and their mutual worship of disturbing rich white pretty people.
Edward looks like "a commercial for hair gel" (43). His voice is "quiet, musical" (43) and his laugh is "soft, enchanting" (44). In the next eight pages, Bella/Meyer describes his features as dazzling, flawless, beautiful, striking, "a distraction" (48), perfect, and beautiful (again). That's an average of just under one mention of Edward's dazzlingness per page. So, I guess Bella finds Edward somewhat attractive. I thought I'd better highlight this, because Meyer's writing is so subtle, it's easy to miss. Oh, and I still don't know what Edward's hair color is.
On those same eight pages, to describe her own actions and feelings, Bella uses words like stupid, moron, awkward, idiot, flushing, confident (!), clumsy, unsuccessful, unthinking, crazy, sheepish, paranoid, stupid (again), dull, glum, irritated, and dreary. "Words like" because she uses adverb forms of nearly all those words. On every page, she also says things like:
he was obviously wondering if I was mentally competent. (44)
Edward sits next to Bella and is actually nice to her, for a certain value of nice that encompasses "manipulative." Starting a conversation that will go on for the next nine pages, he says:
I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. (43)
Congratulations Edward, you just went from "jerk" to "creepy-ass jerk"! You and Bella's dad should get along great.
Let's unpack this sentence, as my history theory professor would say. First, it's a lie. Edward could have introduced himself during the hour of biology, or before or after that class, or when they ran into each other in the office after school. Instead, he spent the time acting like he wanted to rip Bella's heart out of her chest.
If Edward regrets acting like a colossal jackass toward Bella, he should apologize. If he's too embarrassed or too callous to do that, he could simply introduce himself, without adding the lie. Why does he lie?
Simple: to gaslight her. The guy who sexually harassed me in high school -- hereafter known as "Fion" in honor of the fact that we were in French class together for four years -- pulled this stuff all the time. He'd do or say something horrible one day, then the next day act like he'd always been my friend and he was hurt by my resentment.
Bella's reaction feels familiar to me:
My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? He was perfectly polite now. (44)
They do the lab together, and Edward's language is weird. He says:
Or I could start, if you wish.
Bella doesn't notice his odd turn of phrase because she's too busy brooding on how great he looks and hating herself. For once, though, she does something. She shows off "just a little" (45) for Edward, since she did this lab back in Phoenix. I like that she tries to impress a boy she's attracted to with her scientific knowledge. But I had to read page 45 three times (ugh) because of the following:
"Anaphase," he murmured, writing it down as he spoke.
I kept my voice indifferent. "May I?"
He smirked and pushed the microscope to me.
I looked through the eyepiece eagerly, only to be disappointed. Dang it, he was right.
I re-read because I thought Bella must have initially identified the slide as prophase, since otherwise why would she be disappointed that Edward was right? But no, she's disappointed that Edward is right... just because, I guess. Maybe she thinks there's a certain amount of rightness in the world, and now there's a little less for her.
Bella and Edward are all not-touching and static-shocky, the usual stuff, which if done competently can be pretty sexy. Meyer does not do it competently. Maybe if it weren't buried in Bella hating herself and Edward lying and smirking and dazzling, it could work. But then the book would be entirely different.
Edward's eye color has changed since Bella last stared at him, and she notices this fact and does something again. Of her own free will, Bella asks another person a question about himself. She has been so aggressively grouchy and anti-social until now, this is a shocking development. Edward's like a battery for this girl, and if you want to make a vibrator joke I won't stop you.
So, Bella asks Edward, did you get contacts? Edward shrugs and looks away, and Bella wonders if "Forks was making me crazy in the literal sense of the word" (46). No, Bella, Edward's just a creepy douche.
The teacher checks their results and assumes Edward did all the work, since all the answers are correct. Teachers still often treat girls as incompetent, so chalk one up for Meyer in the depressing realism department. Edward ("automatically" for some reason) tells the teacher Bella did 3/5 of the work, but the teacher's skeptical, and cross-examines Bella about her previous coursework. We learn that Bella was in an AP science class in Phoenix. The teacher has a real problem accepting this stuff, but finally does -- mumbling to himself -- and wanders off.
Then Bella and Edward talk for four pages.