
I feel the same way about books as I do about alcoholic beverages (and anyone who even casually frequents these pages is completely aware of my feelings about both): I love a wellmade gin martini (no vermouth, 3 olives), a classy glass of vintage Merlot, and a pint of Guinness; but I will gladly drink Budweiser, too-sweet strawberry Daiquiris, and Burgundy priced at $2 a bottle -- and enjoy it just fine. I've rarely met a drink I didn't like.
My feelings about books are the same: for years, my favorite tomes were James Joyce's Ulysses, Charles Dickens' David Copperfield, everything by Jane Austen, Toni Morrison's Beloved, and The Collected Works of T.S. Eliot. I majored in English Literature at U.C. Davis (Huzzah Aggies!), and left there with a respectable GPA of 3.9 (3.8 if you count my second major, Neurology). In other words, I'm not an idiot.
And yet do I like Twilight? Yes. And Harry Potter? Yes. And do I think that my appreciation of good literature, my intellect, and my good taste should be called into question? No.
For decades now, genre literature (i.e. fantasy, sci-fi, mystery, thrillers, graphic novels, adventures, historical romance, etc.) has been relegated to 2 buck chuck status: o.k. for the unwashed masses, but degrading for a true literature connoisseur to admit to reading, let alone cherishing a fondness for. This is folly.
Consider what Andrew Lang said:
Distrust a course in reading. People who really care for books read all of them.
And the venerable Dr. Samuel Johnson to James Boswell when asked what books he would require children to read:
Sir, I would put a child into a library and let him read at his choice.
To hell with the lit-snobs who tell us that genre literature is second-class: I've read "classics" that I didn't think were worth the paper they were printed on; likewise, I've read genre literature that far and away embody the best depictions of modern life I've ever seen in literature.
What is it about certain works of genre fiction that elevate them from the status of "interesting" to cult books that everyone who reads them will be so moved that they will beg, borrow, and steal the chance to get everyone they know reading the book they have just become obsessed with?
I've always believed that these types of books -- whether Twilight or Harry Potter or Hard Times (I bet you didn't know that crowds of people waited at the docks to try to get advance warning of what was going to happen in Dickens' serial novel Hard Times. And what do you think the critics called the book back then? Popular trash. And what do they call it now? A classic) -- aren't successful because of their dramatic, eye-catching, literary elements. They are successful because they tap into basic human desires.
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So where does Twilight factor in all of this?
I've seen a number of reviewers (book, movie, renegade, etc.) that claim the Twilight frenzy's roots lie in Edward Cullen being the ideal boyfriend.
WRONG.
The lure of Twilight is due to two things: 1. Edward Cullen's unerring and unswerving dedication not just to Bella, but to Bella's safety, with or without him. Regardless of the danger, his family's disapproval, or public scrutiny, he must be with her and protect her; and 2. every girl (or woman's) desire to be the object of that kind of white-hot love.
Twilight may be a modern, fantastical love story but it's got a theme that is older than the hills. And one that modern men, regardless of how liberated they may think their girlfriends/wives/secret crushes are, would do well to heed. We may be in the age of the "modern woman," but Twilight lays bare what women REALLY want -- a good, old-fashioned, devoted man. Gnash away ultra-feminists, but your sisters have spoken.
And what about Harry Potter? What does the popularity of that series say about modern culture? That the age-old hero story is anything but dead. Sure, we're modern, post-modern, avant-garde, surreal, whatever. But that inborn desire for a hero who overcomes all odds, who defeats the evil ones, and makes peace with the devils of his past has been hip since the time of Homer. Why should anyone be surprised that a modern story that makes use of all of these elements is a cult favorite across the globe? Do you really think that the human race is capable of moving beyond the forces that have defined us for so long: love, heroism, bravery, sacrifice? And, even if we could, should we?
I can honestly say that I've never read a book that I have hated 100%. Sure, I may dislike the plot (I'm not much of a romantic, so I am prematurely biased against anything remotely smelling of lovey-doviness) or not prefer the writing style or think the dialogue was a bit contrived; however, my respect and belief in the written word is so great that even in the most byzantine or juvenile of tomes, I think I can catch a glimpse of pure humanity at work.
That is what I see in Twilight. That is what I see in Harry Potter. And that is what I see in every beloved book that is thrashed by the hoity-toity critics as being too low-brow, too pedestrian, too crowd-pleasing to be of note. I don't see a thing in the world to be ashamed of in Twilight, in Harry Potter, or, for that matter, in any other book that has achieved their sublime superstar status.
I raise my glass of super-cheap grocery store Chianti to you genre book lovers! Stay true to yourselves and stay true to your books. Make those condescending critics eat their words: I guarantee you, no meal will ever be so pleasing -- maybe not for them, but definitely for you.