However, the recent comments on the Breaking Dawn Part 2 post and its follow-up made me wonder what advice I would give to a daughter if I did have one.
Here’s what I came up with:
Don’t read the Twilight books until you are forty and safe from its pernicious influence. Then feel free to love them, but expect scorn.
It’s okay to shave your toes. Trust me.
Love comes and goes. Housework lasts forever.
Only get a dog if you have no objection to daily walks, whatever the weather; and poo.
One glass of Coke will clean a year’s worth of grime from a toilet bowl. Think about that before you drink it.
Be nice to your partner. You may need them to walk the dog some day.
There is no such thing as too much moisturiser. Your neck, especially, will thank you.
You cannot have it all; something always has to give. Usually your waistband.
I will adore your children but don’t ask me to babysit everyday.
The more clothes you wear, the more clothes you will have to wash. Corollary for teenage daughters: The more clothes you wear on a date, the better for your mother’s nerves.
*
What advice would you give to your fictional daughter?
There are no spoilers in this post. If you want spoilers, read somebody meaner.
A bit of history for new followers:
Old followers, please bear with me: you’ve read enough about KStew’s and RPatz’s hair here to know that if a superhero needs to kill me, Twilight is my weakness.
I don’t like vampires or vampire movies. I refused to watch the Twilight films when they came out. The Hub liked them, enough that our boys had great fun offering to buy him Robert Pattinson posters and bobby socks (something teenage girls wore in the Fifties and with no link to the films, but the boys didn’t seem to care).
Last Christmas, I bought him the Twilight films trilogy box set. He insisted I try to watch the first one with him, further insisting that they were neither scary nor gory. He was right. After the first one I insisted he was horrible for not insisting that I watch these films the minute they came out and I had to have the books immediately or he was going to suffer a long and terrible moan on my part.
I’m not ashamed to admit I loved the films and devoured the books. I didn’t get to see Breaking Dawn Part 1 in the cinema, even though it was showing last Christmas. You can read all about how that nearly killed our marriage and what the Hub had to do to save it here.
I was a little disappointed in Part 1 because I read the book before seeing the film and I didn’t like the changes that were made, though I understood why they were necessary.
I read the first three books after seeing the films and was pleased that they more or less stuck to the story. I liked Part 1 better on second, third, eighth viewing, so I expected to feel the same way about Part 2.
The Review:
I really enjoyed it. Some changes were made from the original story but it did stick to the spirit of the book. The main change in particular caught me by surprise and, while I mourned the loss of an element I love in the novel, I believe the change worked really well, and was necessary for the film to work for a wider audience.
As with the other films, a lot of detail had to be omitted but there was enough to satisfy this – alas, I cannot deny it – Twihard.
The Hub thought it was the best one of the series. I wouldn’t go that far (Twilight will always my favourite film; Breaking Dawn is my favourite book) but as I didn’t need to fill up on any of the snacks I had sneaked into the cinema in my handbag, I acknowledge that it kept me gripped throughout.
Everyone is gorgeous. The Hub thought young Renesmee was funny-looking (quote-that’s the ugliest kid I’ve ever seen-unquote) but I couldn’t take my eyes off Jasper’s peculiar hair long enough to notice – what was that all about?
The acting, as usual, was as usual (see here for my review of Kristen Stewart’s facial expressions) but good enough, and I enjoyed the nice touch in the end credits, where all of the main actors from the earlier films were acknowledged.
I would definitely watch it again.
But you knew that: I already have the DVD on order.
One more thing:
It cost us nothing to go: Tesco have an offer until the end of November – you can exchange your vouchers for cinema tickets at the rate of £3 in vouchers for one adult ticket. As the going rate for an adult cinema ticket before five p.m. is £7.60, it’s an excellent deal.
The film opened today and, as it was my first time going to the cinema on a film’s opening day, I think it counts as a new experience for my 101/1001 challenge. However, I was disappointed to find there was no red carpet. I felt a little overdressed in my floor length frock.
I’m four years late with this book review. I don’t care.
Stephenie Meyer – the Twilight author – is not a great writer: stilted prose, dated language, and there is not one character in any of her books that hasn’t rolled their eyes at some point. I find it incredible that she has an English degree.
You don’t have to be a good writer to be a great storyteller.
I had no internet for much of yesterday so I leafed through my Kindle and found The Host by Stephenie Meyer. I started it because nothing else tempted me; I could not put it down. Just like the Twilight books, which I love; but I think I love The Host more.
The most peaceful alien invasion known to sci-fi-kind; an impossible love story; a heroine sweet, adorable but not at all cloying – what’s not to love? Unlike Bella Swan, who, much as I like her, has my palms itching to slap her and my teeth gritting get a grip every time she bursts into tears, which is often, I want to hug away her grief when Wanda cries.
Meyer’s themes of identity and self-image are pertinent; she is gifted at the unexpected; her characters are likeable. What a shame her writing is so poor.
Fortunately, it doesn’t matter: when a book keeps me up until two a.m. because I have to finish it, I say, if the author, publishers and editor don’t worry about the writing, then why should I?
The book is science fiction with barely any science; a love story with no sex; much of the action – if it can be called action – takes place in one dark location.
This is not a review because I haven’t read the book. After Perfecting Motherhood‘s review, I don’t intend to:
This book is garbage, absolute garbage […] This book looks like it was written by a teenage girl who can’t write and has limited vocabulary. I have no idea how many times I read roll her eyes, smirked, muttered, mumbled, bit my lip, cocked his head, and so on, but I’m sure someone has kept a tally. The 22-year old female character is more naïve and gullible than a 12-year old. The 27-year old character is perfect: billionaire, the most beautiful man in the world, he speaks fluent French, and is working on solving world hunger. Pleeeeeaaaase. The sex scenes would have been the best part of the book if they hadn’t been so repetitive and laughable. Anastasia has orgasms by just hearing her name and have Christian look at her. Right. If you haven’t read this book but still want to, do it at your own risk. I bet any other book in that genre will be better than this one.
I have already been sucked into one badly written universe – Twilight, anyone? I love those books and movies, even though the books are badly written and Kristen Stewart has just one expression for all emotions:
Happy
Sad
Afraid
Everybody is allowed to love one stupid book and Twilight is mine; I don’t want to obsess over another.
It came as no surprise to me to learn that Fifty Shades of Grey arose from Twilight fan fiction: a case of from bad to perverse.
According to The Telegraph Online (no slouch in the badly written sentence department; see for yourselves),
Sales of the novel on the Kindle reaching [sic] one million earlier this week, and Fifty Shades of Grey has broken print sales records too.
The first book in the trilogy has sold one million print copies in 11 weeks, beating The Da Vinci Code‘s previous record of sales of one million in 36 weeks.
The book is currently the 32nd bestselling book since records began in 1998.
But wait, there’s more:
The incredible success of EL James’s erotic novel is having an effect on the classical music industry.
After selling over one million copies on the Kindle and becoming the fastest print novel to sell one million copies, 50 Shades of Grey has also caused an increase in the sales of a piece of classical music.
The piece ‘Spem in alium’, sung by the Tallis Scholars is this week at number 7 in the official UK Classical Singles Chart.
So it’s not all bad; in fact, there is even a fortunate bonus: finally, America has learned how to spell ‘grey’ correctly.
HP Sauce (Photo credit: Tom BKK)
I leave the last word to Raymond Hodgson, 31, who was charged with common assault against his partner of five years (though both still live at home with their respective parents), Emma McCormick. His solicitor told the court that Hodgson was enraged that his girlfriend was reading a book he felt was pornographic in nature, and they had an argument in person and by text, over two days:
“He went to her home at 7pm on June 26 and took with him a bottle of brown sauce.
She answered the door and the argument continued.
She went to close the door and he jammed his foot into the door, slapped her once in the face, and then squirted her with this bottle of sauce.”
[…]
He said that he did what he did to Miss McCormick to show her what saucy really meant.
Contemplating my blunt Bic yesterday, and whether it was worth getting out of the shower for a fresh razor (I still have 273 left of the thousand my Dad left when he died back in 2000) or to stay half hairy until my next ablutions, it occurred to me that if Bella didn’t shave the night before she was changed into a vampire – and there is, unaccountably, no record in the book that she did – then she was going to be stuck with fluffy armpits for eternity. For a female vampire, that would suck.
In Twilight‘s world, vampires are frozen in time, with the same likes, dislikes, looks (the same, but amplified to remove the dross and highlight the gorgeous) and hair. I know this for a fact, because I have watched the first Twilight film 117 times since Christmas, and Edward Cullen (the delicious Robert Pattinson) has hairy arms and chest in every scene where he shows his hairy arms and chest.
Obsession has its usefulness – Bella got Edward in the end; Edward got Bella in the end, and I got to notice Robert Pattinson’s hair. His other hair; the one that inspired Jedward:
Spud is back at school today.It means I have to get up earlier, which gives me more time to read. It’s good for me but not for him: he has exams until the end of January and he did almost no revision because he was so ill over Christmas.
(2)
I’ve read three of the four Twilight books; the last one will be finished by tomorrow at the latest, so I will be able to give you my full attention again.* I started reading them on Tuesday. What can I say? They’re not that long; I read quickly. At least Edward Cullen and I have one thing in common.
I confess, I love the Twilight books. I would call them my guilty pleasure but I feel no guilt and a lot of pleasure. Some embarrassment, yes: they are a bit Mills & Boon for teenagers. But Mills & Boon with vampires and werewolves; so less Mills & Boon, more kills and moon. But what is it with those boys and Bella? Seriously, that girl never stops crying.
*Oops! My secret is out: I have the body of a weak and feeble woman but the heart of a girl, and a girl of thin land, too. Sue me.
(3)
And, last but not least…that dippy thief returned the alligator to the pet shop from whence he was stolen. He left him in a cardboard box on the step, the nearest he could get to chasing him away. A case of crocodile shoos?
I don’t watch horror movies; I watch few suspense movies; thrillers? Not at all. I don’t like feeling frightened. I don’t read scary books. I had to forego my daily dose of the excellent Kate Shrewsday over Christmas, because she wrote a three-day ghost story. The Muppet Christmas Carol is as ghostly as it gets for me.
So vampires…forget it! The Hub, before he fully understood my need to live in a bubble of niceness, made me watch Scream and Interview With The Vampire. Being clutched from behind in the middle of a deep sleep in the middle of the night by a terrified wife who woke up and hallucinated giant spiders and pretty vampires and knife-wielding masked men gave him so many near-heart attacks that he decided to stop my film-nasties education, and never resumed it. Particularly after the night I jumped out of bed, screaming ‘Fire! Fire!’, having watched The Towering Inferno at last, because ‘it is a classic’, and he realised he was living in a nightmare of his own making.
Cover of Twilight (Two-Disc Special Edition)
The Hub likes the Twilight movies. I bought him the trilogy box set for Christmas, to the amusement of our sons, who laughed at him for being a teenage girl and offered to buy him a Robert Pattinson poster for his wall.
The Hub made me watch the first one. He assured me I would love it; it wasn’t frightening. He promised. He swore. He was right. It wasn’t frightening. I did love it. It was a romance between a lonely teenage girl and one of the undead. What could be more natural?
Robert Pattinson was sexy in Twilight; I’ll admit. It’s not pervy of me to think that because he was seventeen in 1918 which makes him 110 by my reckoning; and that makes him the perv, if you think about it: chasing after a teenage girl.
He was brooding and dark and all of those things women like in a fictional man. Not so much fun when you have to live with it, I imagine. Edward (RP) wants Bella (Kristen Stewart); he enters her room while she’s asleep, and watches her. Just stands there and watches her. He doesn’t sleep, you see; so that’s okay then. He follows her, but that’s all right because if he didn’t follow her, he couldn’t save her from the nasty gang of young men who have horrid thoughts about her. Better the devil you know, I suppose.
Bella is much safer with Edward, because he will protect her from the really mean undead who want to dine on her. Too bad he’s the one who exposed her to them in the first place. And it’s fine that he tells her he can’t promise never to kill her, because she trusts him, you see; she loves him.
I loved this film; I did. I’m eager to watch the sequels. The Hub was right: it was a romance; it wasn’t frightening. In the conventional sense.
But sending out the message to impressionable young women that it’s okay to love a man who stalks you and who tells you he might kill you one day? That’s a real horror story.
Harry Potter is about confronting fears, finding inner strength and doing what is right in the face of adversity. Twilight is about how important it is to have a boyfriend.
I am a little fat. I like food; what can I say? I have dull hair: mousey. I don’t wear much make-up and have no need of a dressing table. If I look like a bag lady, I chose my own clothes. If I look nice, the Hub picked them for me. Despite all this, I am a little vain. This photograph is from 2003. I had to go back that far to find one of me that I liked. But I don’t really care: my husband still thinks I’m beautiful and if he doesn’t, he loves me enough to lie about it. I’m lucky. I have two boys. They never lie to me. Still, you can't have everything.
The Laughing Housewife 
I have the funniest readers in the blogosphere (not necessarily ha ha…)