When I was in sixth form I was one of those students (and still are I suppose) that frequented the library. Not just for books relevant to my course but for novels, probably not at my age range, fantasy based that I could indulge in. Upon being such a student I encountered a book I thought was relatively unheard of about vampires. A single book I assumed. Twilight. It took me less than a day to read said narrative and quite happy for the release from A-Level study I was (and I’m still) unashamed to admit I enjoyed reading it. I enjoyed both of the main protagonists, a dreamy Edward and the flawed Bella.
I was a fool. No not for liking the book, but for being naïve in thinking I was the only person who had found this story and enjoyed the ease of its narrative. Needless to say this naivety was not long lived. A few things destroyed it. For example discovering the second and third novel in the series were already published by the time I came to reading them, by small whispers of a potential film adaptation and by the fact that everybody around me began debating werewolves or vampires; of which the answer is obvious… vampires.
I have read all the Twilight books, or further I have read Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn. My love for the first book did not continue through the series.
Since then I have completed my a-levels, attained a place in my dream university and dropped out, secured a spot in a far better university (my opinion) and currently sit in my third year in English (this does not make me a literary snob). I have aged about four years and have moved on to ‘grittier’ fiction. Since then the four books I read, judged and forgot about have moved on too and today I, with my housemates, went to the cinema to watch Breaking Dawn Pt. 2.
Against everything I know to be rational thought I embarked into the cold weather to watch the film adaptation of the second part of a book I thought unworthy of one novel. But a part of me wanted to see the conclusion. Part of me believed I owed it to the series for reading it and at some point having watching all the films (not always on release).
Initially, upon standing at the credits and don’t worry I won’t give a thing away, I was as disappointed as I was when I finished the seventh Harry Potter book and the aged characters sent their children off on their own adventures. I found the film, to begin with, cringe worthy, forced, uncomfortable and predictable. There were moments of sheer laughter at it, not with it. But unlike when I finished reading the fourth in the series, I wasn’t angry, which left me pondering… why not?
Here’s my conclusion… The film unlike the book stood for what it was. The book, by the time the fourth book, was published, had been written to be adapted. The film was always the end product, whether that is two parts or not. Furthermore this idea of the end entered my mind. Again when the last book had been published I knew that films were to be made. But now Twilight has finished, in the sense of the series and like with Harry Potter they’ll be no more so despite my disappoint at the novel, the lack of real child, stupid name and corny ending they’ll be nothing more to fill that pointless void for teens, or sparkly in that artificial way in sunlight or even make me feel uncomfortable at their displays of affection. Twilight the Saga and Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn you will be missed; but probably not revisited.
Judge me not it is my opinion and I judge not the people who loved the book.