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Yet another educated, career-driven woman torn to shreds over the Twilight phenomenon... this time, in movie form alone. This one's for you, TwiCrack!
Louisa Thomas confesses:
"I can't wait to watch the new DVD of "Twilight." Go ahead, mock me. I'd long resisted Stephenie Meyer's series myself. A parable about abstinence, starring a hunky vampire (Edward) and the sweet object of his affection (Bella)? No, thanks.
But it seemed wrong to denigrate what I didn't know, so I went to see the film. I had read that it would be a celebration of chastity—proof that what a girl wants is a boy who won't bite. That was not the movie I saw. Sure, Edward's gaze seemed more silly than sultry, and when he and Bella danced to Debussy, I laughed. But the movie captivated me. "Twilight" is about sex and denial—but it is anything but chaste.
The night after I saw "Twilight," I went to "Tristan und Isolde" at New York's Metropolitan Opera. It was a magnificent production, but near the end of the first act—when Isolde's attendant swaps the heroine's intended poison for a love potion—my mind wandered to "Twilight."
Perhaps it was the music's tension, or the suggestion of ill-fated love. When the lights rose for intermission, I turned to my husband and told him I'd see him later. Embarrassed, I hurried to the bookstore across the street to see if the book could help explain why "Twilight" so seized me.
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