Tags
books, ethics, good and evil, Harry Potter, literary criticism, literature, quotes, reviews, right and wrong, Twilight
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 .
The above quote has been mis-attributed to many, including Stephen King and Andrew Futral (who re-blogged it) but was actually written by someone named Robin Browne. Whoever she is, she hit the nail on the head.
(A note about spoilers: I will keep Harry Potter spoilers to a minimum, only letting go the kind of information that you could pick up from your standard movie trailer and have probably picked up on already, unless you live in a world without other people. Twilight spoilers, on the other hand, abound, because I can’t “spoil” Twilight any more than I can “spoil” a compost heap.)
Harry Potter is an epic tale of good vs evil.
One of the things I most appreciate about the Harry Potter series is its rich exploration of right and wrong, good and evil.
In Harry Potter, good guys and bad guys are not clearly defined. Good people sometimes do bad things, and bad people sometimes do good things. The person you percieve as a villain in the beginning of a book is rarely still a villain by the end, and some of the people you thought were good turn out to be pretty damn evil.
What if your intentions are good, but your actions are bad? Does that make you good, or bad? What if you do something bad “for the greater good”? What if you do bad things by accident?
Harry Potter addresses all of these questions, and answers them as well. Rowling’s answer?
No one is all good or all bad. You can even be on the side of “good” and still be deeply evil.
We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are.
Twilight is… not.
One of the things that intrigues me most about Stephenie Meyer is the divide between what she thinks Twilight is, and what it actually is.
On Meyer’s website, she talks about the apple on the cover of Twilight and the quote that opens the novel.
I used the scripture from Genesis (located just after the table of contents) because I loved the phrase “the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil.” Isn’t this exactly what Bella ends up with? A working knowledge of what good is, and what evil is.
Really? She does? Because I am not convinced that Bella would recognize evil if it tried to kill her.
On top of that, Bella herself is a right bitch.
Quick – what’s the first thing you think of when you think of “good”?
If your answer is “Bella Swan”, congratulations! First, you fully agree with what Stephenie Meyer thinks, and second, your medication dosage needs to be reviewed immediately.
Meyer certainly seems to percieve her own work as a thrilling tale about the nature of good and evil, choice and fate.
I see it as a story about a whiny brat with absolutely no morals, who never learns that she is not a good person.
So I can only form the following conclusion: Stephenie Meyer is seriously confused about what constitutes “good” and what constitutes “evil”.
The funny thing about good and evil in Meyer’s books is that they don’t seem to be largely correlated to right and wrong, being nice or being cruel.
As far as I can gather, having read the Twilight Saga…
Me, according to “Twilight”
“Good” means: Friends with Bella.
“Evil” means: Not friends with Bella and/or has red eyes.
Therefore, I am evil, and so are albino bunny rabbits.
What Bella Isn’t: A Reliable Judge of Good and Evil.
Edward steals part of the engine out of Bella’s car to stop her from hanging around Jacob. Jacob sexually assaults Bella on a number of occasions. Alice steals a Porsche. Even the adorable vampire baby drinks human blood.
But the worst of all of them is Bella, our wonderful protagonist, who gains this wonderful understanding of the nature of evil.
When I look at Bella, I see paragraphs like this:
Charlie wasn’t exactly aware that Edward frequently stayed over. In fact, he would have a stroke if that fact were brought to his attention. But I didn’t feel too guilty for deceiving him.
Only a teenage boy would agree to this: decieving both our parents while repairing dangerous vehicles using money meant for my college education. He didn’t see anything wrong with that picture. Jacob was a gift from the gods.
I don’t know how long I stood there weighing the pros against the cons – doing the right thing by Jacob, seeing my closest friend again, being a good person, versus making Edward furious with me.
“Thou shalt not kill” is commonly accepted by most major belief systems. And I’ve killed a lot of people, Bella.”
“Only the bad ones.”
I see no proof that Bella is in any way “good”.
Even her supposedly good acts, her constant selflessness for the sake of others, can be just as easily attributed to an enjoyment of the martyr act and a severe self-esteem problem.
Things that Bella does without much compunction:
- Gets sarcastic with people who try to make friendly conversation with her.
- Lies to her father. Repeatedly.
- Flirts with an impressionable young boy in order to tease out information about her vampire crush.
- Purposely says hurtful things to her father to stop him from asking further questions
- Steals money from her college fund in order to refurbish a pair of motorcycles and then learn to ride them, despite the fact that her father has forbidden her to ride a motorcycle.
- Condones murder in people she is attracted to.
- Repeatedly puts herself in danger despite the fact that she promised to do no such thing.
- Runs off to Italy without telling her father where she is going.
- Labels the people who get pissed off with her as being “evil”
- Not loving Jacob
- Loving Jacob
- Being hunted by angry red-eyed vampires with a taste for her blood
- Being hunted by an angry red-eyed vampire who blames her for the fact that Edward’s brothers killed her red-eyed boyfriend in Bella’s defence last year (yes, the bizarre circle of blame IS that complex).
- Giving her werewolf friends an opportunity to attack and kill angry, red-eyed vampires, which is their favourite past time.
- Smelling good.
- Getting to date Edward.
Now, check out Bella’s application of the word “evil” in Eclipse – TWO BOOKS after Bella supposedly learned all about “what good is, and what evil is.”
Before Edward’s return, my school friends had polarized into two groups. I liked to think of those groups as good vs. evil. Us and them worked too. The good guys were Angela, her steady boyfriend Ben Cheney, and Mike Newton; these three had all very generously forgiven me for going crazy when Edward left. Lauren Mallory was the evil core of the them side, and almost everyone else, including my first friend in Forks, Jessica Stanley, seemed content to go along with her anti-Bella agenda.
Okay, let’s go through all the things wrong with this paragraph step by step.
1. Actually, all of Bella’s supposed “friends” stuck by her when she “went crazy” after Edward left, as well as they could considering that she just totally ignored them for four months straight. They continued to let her eat with them, despite the fact that she had entirely stopped talking to all of them and paid no attention to what they said. Jessica got fed up for the last time with Bella half-way through New Moon when Bella badgered her into going to a movie, and then persisted in attracting the attentions of some dangerous looking rough necks.
But then, Bella doesn’t seem to have empathy for other humans.
Observe this quote from New Moon:
It had been weeks, maybe months, since Jess had even greeted me when I passed her in the hall. I knew I had offended her with my anti-social behaviour, and she was sulking.
SULKING? How about, “hurt”, “had given up on trying to be nice to me”, “was sick of being snubbed”, or “HAD REALIZED THAT I AM AN EVIL BITCH”?
2. Mike Newton has the hots for Bella, so it’s not so much that he has”forgiven” but that that he “still wants to get into her pants”.
3. Lauren Mallory and her “anti-Bella” agenda seem to exist purely in Bella’s mind, since we’re rarely if ever given any indication of Lauren’s supposed bitchiness except through Bella’s interpretations of her vocal inflections.
Forget vampires who want to eat you and vampires who just want to control your life and friends who may or may not be murderers. This girl uses insolent tones when addressing Bella!
Damn her and her anti-Bella agenda! EVIL! EVIL!
Duh, I am SO a good person. I’m, like, the PROTAGONIST
The only thing you could legitimately accuse Lauren of is the use of sarcasm. Only evil bitches would use sarcasm, right, Bella?
“My mother is part albino.”
He studied my face apprehensively, and I sighed. It looked like clouds and a sense of humor didn’t mix. A few months of this and I’d forget how to use sarcasm.
Choice: You have the right to remain wrong
Okay, so maybe the protagonist of Twilight is a bad egg. That doesn’t necessarily mean that the overall message of the books is bad.
But it is, nonetheless.
Meyer has identified “choice” as being one of the most prevalent themes in her novels. Choosing not to be the person that fate seems to have set out to make you. Fighting negative impulses in order to do the right thing.
I really think that’s the underlying metaphor of my vampires. It doesn’t matter where you’re stuck in life or what you think you have to do; you can always choose something else. There’s always a different path.
The funny thing is, that’s also a major theme in Harry Potter. If you replaced the words “my vampires” with “Harry Potter”, it could have been J.K. Rowling speaking.
The characters in Harry Potter, most notably Harry himself, are constantly being asked to choose whether to do what comes naturally to them, or to do what isright. She often uses the character of Dumbledore to spell it out to her readers.
It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.
Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort.
I can see why Stephenie Meyer believes that she is also following this noble theme. After all, her “good” vampire characters are what they call “vegetarians”. In other words, they eschew human blood and instead feast on the local wildlife.
Essentially, Meyer’s vegetarian vampires are in a little Al-Anon type club, where they constantly support each other in resisting their lust for human blood.
That’s definitely non-evil. They are certainly, like the characters in Harry Potter, choosing the difficult but moral path, as opposed to the easy but immoral one. Dumbledore would surely approve.
But is that all it takes to be “good”? To NOT kill people? Isn’t that a little broad?
I mean, look at me, here I am, not killing people.
Does that automatically make me a good person?
Or is it the resistance of temptation that makes one “good”? In that case, does that mean that an alcoholic is only a good person when he is on the wagon?
The choice to do good is a big theme in Harry Potter, but there is also a complex discussion of what “good” IS.
The Continuum of Goodness.
The ultimate definition of good, in Harry Potter, is based on caring and concern for others. Acts of kindness, protection, and self-sacrifice are good. Acts of cruelty, hatred, or self-interest are bad.
Both the protagonists and the antagonists occasionally do good or bad things. The difference is that the protagonists generally try to do the right thing, while the antagonists do not.
Interestingly, often the characters do harm when trying to do good. Hermione, for example, is so ardent about freeing house elves who don’t want to be freed that she ends up saddling the only free elf, Dobby, with all of the housework in Gryffindor Tower, because the other elves won’t go near the place. Does that make her acts good, or bad?
Harry, in defending himself against an evil curse cast by another student, uses a spell that he has never tried before, only to discover that it inflicts terrible damage on the other student. He is horrified with himself. And yet, later on, he attempts to use that same curse on an adult in a battle with a known murderer.
When is it ok to hurt someone else? When is it an evil act, instead of mere self-protection?
These are the kind of questions that Harry Potter makes you ask yourself.
It is rare to discover such shades of grey, especially in children’s literature.
The good guys are good, and the bad guys are bad. Think of books like The Chronicles of Narnia and The Dark Is Rising, and The Hobbit. The protagonists are good, and the supernatural evils that they fight are bad. How do we know this? Well… we just know!
Even more adult literature makes this sharp distinction.
Think of The Lord of the Rings: Let’s look at the story of Sauron, supposed bad-guy of Middle Earth. You know, the big eye from the movies?
What did he actually DO?
Yeah, okay, his army and his country of Mordor was full of Orcs and Goblins, but is that what all of this Good vs Evil stuff was based on? Racism? Interracial breeding? Jealousy over someone’s baddass ring-making skills?
But at least in Lord of the Rings, the “good” characters do actually seem to be good. A little racist, maybe, but otherwise, they’re ok guys.
Enter Twilight.
Evil: Hot or Not?
Look us in the eyes and tell us we’re pretty
I’ve always been fascinated with appearances because evil doesn’t appear evil, it doesn’t. It’s clean and shiny and pretty.
The above quote is yet another example of Stephenie Meyer saying the right thing, even though it doesn’t actually apply to her writing. Much of Harry Potter is taken up with that same notion – that you can’t judge based on appearances.
Unlike Harry Potter, however, Meyer doesn’t actually make it difficult to tell good from evil, because she has handily colour-coded all of her bad guys by giving them demonic red eyes, while “good” vampires (i.e. those who just murder animals, and not humans) have lovely golden eyes.
So basically, in learning “about good and evil”, all Bella learns is that she should stay away from people with glowing red eyes, and if she didn’t know that instinctively, well, maybe Darwin should have been allowed to take his course.
And yes, I realize that Voldemort has red eyes too, but only LATER on. One of the most chilling moments in Harry Potter is a flashback to Voldemort as a handsome young child.
He was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control. The little stories of the strangled rabbit and the young boy and girl he lured into a cave were most suggestive…”I can make them hurt if I want to….”
Voldemort gives us an excellent insight into Rowling’s concept of evil:
The use of powers to control and hurt others. Murder. Torture. These are the hallmarks of evil in the Potterverse, and personally I consider them to be the hallmarks of evil in any other universe as well.
Instead of colour-coding good guys and bad guys, Rowling makes us explore what evil is, and shows us how her protagonist responds to evil acts.
Harry is a flawed character, but he is always repulsed by the persecution of others. When he discovers that his dead father, whom he idolizes, was once an arrogant bully, he is horrified and disgusted.
The part that baffles him the most is that people have always told him how GOOD his father was.
“Your father was the best friend I ever had, and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it.”
But Harry can’t reconcile meanness and good in the same person. It totally messes up his view of his own father, basically forever.
And then there’s Bella… who actually seems to have a strange attraction to evil.
courtesy of Reasoning With Vampires
The Friendly VampMeyers, despite being handily colour coded, don’t always ACT good. Luckily, Bella seems to like that.
Then again, since Bella has a mean streak, she probably has an affinity for evil. Right from the beginning, Bella mentally scorns those who are being nice to her.
a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk to me.
“You’re Isabella Swan, aren’t you?” He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type.
We sat at the end of a full tables with several of her friends, who she introduced to me. I forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them. They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to me.
Mike, who was taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, walked faithfully by my side.
She then focuses on the Cullens because they are attractive, and asks to know all about them. Not the people who are being nice to her, introducing themselves, and so on. No. She wants to know about the VAMPIRES. The ones who are totally ignoring her.
Contrast this with Harry, will you? He befriended the first person who was nice to him, and when someone all pale and shiny and snotty showed up, he sent him packing.
You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.” He held out his hand to shake Harry’s, but Harry didn’t take it.
“I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks,” he said coolly.
But Bella, Miss Telling-Good-From-Evil, rejects the nice ones and starts mooning over the good looking rich undead ones.
Okay, sure, you say, but that’s at the START. Obviously there needs to be some character progression.
Right.
As far as I can tell, there is none. Bella is immediately attracted to the moody creep who keeps telling her that she should stay away from him, because he wants to drink her blood. She decides that she is in love with him. Three books later, they are still together and living happily ever after.
But that’s ok, because luckily, this clean, shiny and pretty guy is the good guy. You can tell because he’s clean, shiny, pretty, and has golden eyes. The evil ones are the crumbly hobo-dressed red-eyed guys.
OBVIOUSLY.
In Eclipse, Edward asks Bella why she likes Wuthering Heights so much.
I think it’s something about the inevitability. How nothing can keep them apart — not her selfishness, or his evil, or even death, in the end…“
That’s Bella all over. It doesn’t matter to her if someone is evil. If they are her friend, or her lover, then they can do all the evil things they want, and they will still be good in her eyes.
And in Meyer’s, too, apparently.
Jack The Ripper: Nice Once You Get To Know Him?
Let’s listen to Bella, for example, ponder the right and wrong of, oh, say, MURDER Edward tells Bella that he wasn’t always a “vegetarian” – that he went off on his own for a while and got killing humans out of his system.
Really?” I was intrigued, rather than frightened, as I perhaps should have been. […]
“That doesn’t repulse you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I guess it sounds… reasonable.
Okay, maybe he had somewhat good motives, but on learning that you boyfriend has been a vigilante executioner, you should be a WEE BIT repulsed.
But afterall, Meyer says that Bella GAINS a working knowledge of good and evil over the course of Twilight.
So let’s move ahead to New Moon.
You know, after Bella has that “working knowledge”.
Bella has figured out that Jacob is a werewolf, and she thinks that he has been out killing tourists. She wonders, is it wrong to warn him that the police are after him?
Should I warn him if he and his friends were…. were murderers? If they were out slaughtering innocent hikers in cold blood? If they were truly creatures from a horror movie in every sense, would it be wrong to protect them?
The answer, I think, should be “HELL YES, ABSOLUTELY.”
Bella’s answer, however, is this:
Once you cared about a person, it was impossible to be logical about them anymore. Jacob was my friend whether he killed people or not.
Yes. She seriously says that.
Harry is willing to reject his own father because his Dad once once dangled Harry’s least favourite person upside down, but Bella is willing to embrace a friend who may be rending hikers limb from limb.
Well, I’m glad that she got that whole good vs evil thing sorted out.
The scary thing is, in BOTH of these someone-I-love-is-a-murderer situations, Bella does not refer to right and wrong, but to reason.
It is okay that Edward killed people, because it is reasonable for a vampire to want to do so, and because he only targeted bad guys. It is okay if Jacob kills people, because she loves him and therefore she has license to be illogical about him.
No, no, it’s okay. Jack the Ripper just killed women of sin. That’s reasonable.
So if murder is not wrong when it is reasonable, and if protecting a murderer is okay if you love them enough, then what does constitute good and bad, right and wrong, in the Twilight world?
Oh, right.
Having a Boyfriend Trumps All.
Bella needs men in her life so she loves them unconditionally, no matter who they kill.
That’s some good morality there.
Let’s face it:
Meyer’s characters, Bella especially, are the good guys because… well, because we assume that the protagonist is always the good guy.
Meyer loves Bella, and therefore she can forgive anything bad Bella does, and Bella loves Edward and Jacob, so she can forgive anything THEY do, whether it be sexual assault, or simply befriending a nitwit.
Unfortunately, I do not forgive any of that.
Conclusion: Your Fruit of Knowledge Was A Bad Apple
Dear Ms. Meyer – I sure hope you are a better person than your protagonist. The next time you write a story that addresses knowing good from evil, maybe you should do some research on it first.
Maybe try a pomegranate next time.
Next:
Round 3: Time to Actually Discuss THE WRITING
Previously:
Round 1: In Which Stephenie Meyer Confuses Feminism With Kung Fu
**I wrote a book! Twilight annoyed me so much that I decided to write a story that was the exact opposite. You can check it out here.**
If By Yes 
The more I read your critiques of Meyer, the more horrified and dumbfounded I am that a) the books were published at all and b) that people I know who I respect as intelligent and well-informed not only read them, but recommended that I read them too.
I, too, was shocked. I expected the books to have a bad message, but I expected them to be, well, if not well-written, at least a good read. Like Dan Brown novels, you know?
But really, really, not. Twilight especially reads like a fan fic. I think that working with editors slowly improves Meyer’s writing over time, but dear God. It is NOT GOOD.
If it didn’t sound really creepy, I’d totally say “I LOVE YOU!” right now. Bella’s moral compass is … broken, to say the least. Okay, yes, she won’t be needing a college fund where she’s headed, but just go out and CASUALLY SPEND IT – her parents’ hard-earned cash, which has probably been saved up HER WHOLE LIFE – and spend it on what, a couple of bunged-up motorcycles? For the sole purpose of her being able to spite her dad and her ex? That girl has a serious death wish.
Can girls be dicks too? Because Bella is a really big one of those. No wonder normal people don’t want to be friends with her. And you’re so right – the Harry Potter novels show us the whole gradient between black and white. That’s why HP are set to be classics and Twilight hopefully forgotten in a hundred years’ time.
Also, +1 on the Tolkien stuff. I’ve always wondered what the big deal about the eye is. OMG it’s totally scary how it seems to watch you from afar? Really? If Tolkien was around today, I’d love to ask him “okay, and why is Sauron evil?” to see if he would reply anything other than “uh, because he is?” (But then I also question Gandalf’s wizarding skills. The mightiest wizard of them all, and how often does he actually do magic? Dumbledore would wipe the floor with him!) And yeah, the only reason the goblins are evil in “The Hobbit” (which I’m re-reading at the mo) is “because they are, DUH, they live in dark caves and know little of personal hygiene” and the wolves, “because they are wolves and wolves are evil, mmkay?” Not impressed. At least Thorin Oakenshield will be played by Richard Armitage in the movie(s), so I’ll have that to look forward to.
Come on, Gandalf could do lots of great stuff! There’s that time that he… uh, well, I mean, he definitely…
Hey, HE COULD MAKE COOL FIREWORKS, OK?
I am not masochistic enough to struggle through the Silmarillion, but from the Wikipedia summary, I still can’t gather any conclusive proof that Sauron was evil, except that he had rebellious friends who didn’t follow the rules, and he bred orcs.
Somehow, when you think of all of Frodo’s travails being just to prevent an undesirable element moving into his neighbourhood, it takes the shine off of things.
The racism thing has always rather bothered me in D and D. When we play, we assume all goblins, orcs and such are evil and just start shooting, and I’m like “is this really right? I don’t think Hermione would approve.”
Well, that’s just the thing. They’re faced with hoards of evil (allegedly) beings and they haven’t got enough soldiers to defend themselves … and what does the most powerful wizard ever do? Rides around and gives rousing speeches. WTF? Get him on top of the barricade and go effing “SHAZZAM!” or something! Okay, it would take away a lot of the fighting and thereby lots of words from the books, but still. It’s like having the one weapon that can win the war in one go without any casualties on your own side and casually forgetting to use it. Makes no sense.
With D&D, we were in a campaign where we ended up having a goblin in the party. It was an NPC from a previous campaign that the GM kind of took on as a PC. Was actually a fun character to play with, and we protected him from the other people who came later and immediately shouted “KILL THE GOBLIN!” If we had XP every time we had to say “no, it’s okay, he’s with us! …Yes, really!” … we would’ve levelled up a lot. 😉
We have a city in our campaign world whose citizens are made up of many different races, including humans, goblins, orcs, elves, and halflings. Not to say that there isn’t discrimination between them, but they do live peaceably together for the most part. Very Pratchetesque.
I don’t think there is really any racism in lotr if you read closely, orcs are not exactly a “race”, they just evil beings, orcs are either tortured elves or something unnatural bred by morgoth for war which in itself is evil doing. Sauron and morgoth were evil because they wanted to take away free will of people. Its again a parallel to Bible, about fallen angel who is jealous of humans, and tries to go against The Creator.
The racism is in the description and portrayal of the orcs. They are clearly inspired by racial stereotypes. No one really argues this – it just is. He is a product of his time and place and white male fantasy writers of that time would have seen nothing wrong with incorporating racial stereotypes into their fantasy. Tolkien himself wasn’t a racist. He was against such things. But of course he suffered from a Eurocentric bias. Most of us do.
I’m trying to figure out what the implicit “shoulds” are in this analysis. Is it the case that novels should have a morally admirable protagonist? Is this the case solely for children’s/YA novels, or solely for novels in the fantasy genre that revolve around a struggle between good and evil? If the protagonist of such a novel engages in plausible, age-appropriate, immoral behaviour, is this allowed only when the misbehaviour is explicitly identified as such? It seems to me that most good writers (including Rowling) allow their protagonists to get away with a fair bit of morally dubious behaviour, especially when it falls into the category of breaking rules and/or not telling grown-ups about something.
Another, more explicit “should” here is that good books should contain moral complexity. While moral ambiguity has value, both as a lesson about the world and as a source of suspense, is it obligatory? Is The Lord of the Rings a bad book because it is operating within a mythological framework where psychological depth is not the primary focus? Beyond all the window-dressing (hideous, slavering orcs, etc.), it seems to me that the difference between good and evil in The Lord of the Rings has everything to do with one’s attitude towards power. What makes the Fellowship of the Ring different from Sauron (and is absolutely essential to their success in defeating him) is that they are capable of turning away from power. That is not an especially subtle point, but the focus in that novel is not on ethically complicated situations where the difficulty lies in figuring out the right thing to do; it’s on the immense difficulty of carrying out a fairly straightforward moral obligation. Our culture is very interested in thorny ethical dilemmas, but there is also value in telling stories about how to actually do the right thing, in situations where the right thing is obvious, but difficult.
I think that “do not kill” functions as the primary (and perhaps only) moral absolute in the Harry Potter series as well as the Twilight series. That’s especially clear in Deathly Hallows, where Harry uses two out of the three Unforgivable Curses (and his use of the Cruciatus curse is a great example of a situation where Rowling does not necessarily make it clear how we are meant to evaluate the situation – should we be cheering Harry on or feeling uncomfortable? – personally I feel uncomfortable). It’s a great technique for creating suspense: first Harry uses the Imperius curse, then the Cruciatus – will he take that final step and use the Avada Kedavra? And he doesn’t – and his ability to stop short of that final step says everything about who he is and why he’s different from Voldemort. But I wouldn’t say that it’s a really applicable take-home lesson that readers will use in their day-to-day lives.
The only real “should” I ask of an author is that they stick to their beliefs. There are plenty of excellent books with terrible messages, but the messages are, at least, intended. Harry Potter really probes moral beliefs, and Harry does some morally ambiguous things, but they are presented as morally ambiguous. Rowling is aware of what her characters are doing, and wants us to think about it.
But when Stephenie Meyer believes that her characters are good regardless of how they actually act, and when she claims that they learn about telling good from evil, I ask that her books actually reflect those claims. But they really, really don’t.
If Stephenie Meyer had written Harry Potter, then she would have applauded the use of those curses, simply because they were used by her protagonists, without even noticing that she was setting up a peculiar double standard.
It’s as if an author talked about her Caucasian characters, when the characters are all in Africa and are described as having dark skin and Kenyan names. It makes me say “have you actually READ your own book?”
The fact that Meyer thinks she’s sending one message, when she is actually sending another, frustrates me.
And when she condones killing, well, that’s when I morally have a problem with the unintended message of her tales.
At least in Harry Potter, killing IS a moral absolute! In Twilight, it’s okay if you love the person enough/if the person being killed is “bad”.
I personally disagree with that.
How do we know that Rowling isn’t applauding the use of those curses? Especially in the case of the Cruciatus curse (which McGonagall describes as gallant), I don’t think there are any real textual markers to point clearly in that direction. Rowling frequently has her “good” characters do things that are not entirely right (like giving Dudley a pig’s tail, let’s say), but we give them a free pass because (a) we understand why they did it and (b) it’s either funny, or necessary to the plot, or both. Sometimes actions that seem understandable in the short term crop up later for a more serious reexamination (the treatment of house elves being perhaps the most obvious case in point). But there are double standards – Mr. Dursley, for instance, is hateful and narrow-minded for his prejudice against Harry’s sticky-up hair – but the narrator has licence for any number of sneers against Dudley’s obesity (that being a prejudice that is apparently allowed because it’s funny).
I don’t get the sense that Meyer is expecting our unqualified admiration for the moral lapses you list in your post, especially those that involve lying to Charlie – I think they fall into the category of realistic teenage behaviour. I think she does admire Bella’s selflessness, but the major moral idea she is exploring is that what we are morally capable of has a lot to do with what we believe is possible: if the Cullens believed that their nature and behaviour were fixed because of their identity as vampires, then it would not be possible for them to pursue their “vegetarian” lifestyle. They choose not to be defined by what their peers would say is their inevitable destiny.
The one book I can think of that has the strongest dynamic of authorial admiration for a character whom I see as morally compromised is Frances Hodgson Burnett’s A Little Princess. Have you read that one? It is full of explicit narratorial praise for a girl who displays super-human generosity and kindness – except that her generosity is always rooted in a really severe superiority complex and a pathological need for social-class status. The gap between what I see in the character vs. what Burnett wants me to see is deeply problematic – but that gap is also what makes the novel interesting. I don’t know that I would say that a novel should always carry out the author’s intended message – many times the most fascinating aspects of a text are those that escape, contradict, or undermine the author’s intention.
Hmm, I never looked at A Little Princess quite that way before. I always thought of it as being more about remembering that you are of value, even when no one treats you that way. Like Robert Frost’s star, we are to fix our mind on something higher and rise above our conditions. But I absolutely see your point. Sara is a bit of a Mary Sue, anyway. She could do with some flaws. Mary Lennox is a much more interesting character.
I feel that Rowling does address the moral ambiguity quite often.Harry does reflect with some personal shock that he is actually coming to Gringotts to STEAL. When he first uses Imperio, it is mentioned “for the first time in his life”, and I feel that it carries an awareness that what he is doing is momentous.
(I am not put-off by the fact that there IS moral ambiguity – as I’ve said, I enjoy that complexity, that richness. I like that the characters aren’t sickening little do-gooders, that they are flawed people trying to do the best they can. Bella’s flaws wouldn’t put me off if I felt that they were there for a reason – because her character grows and develops and learns from her mistakes. But it doesn’t! Meyer has actually described Bella as being very “mature” – when I see a whiny little teenage snot.)
I think the Dumbledore subplot was largely intended to address those complexities – Up until that point, Dumbledore was one of the more two-dimensional characters, and the Skeeter information blased a hole right through our blind trust in him. Is Dumbledore a good person because he learned his lesson and chose never to exercise his deepest desires? Or is he a bad person because he had those desires?
I don’t think that Rowling is saying that it was right or wrong for Harry to use those spells, or do what he did. I think she is asking us to ask ourselves. She sets it all up so excellently, so that we are shocked at what Harry is willing to do in order to destroy Voldemort.
I don’t feel that Meyer sets anything up, or tries to make any kind of a point with Bella’s actions. I agree that her point is really about the vampires, and their choices, and she’s right in that respect, as I said. But when she starts rambling on about Bella learning the difference between good and evil… well, I really feel that she’s just making crap up.
I really get the feeling, when reading, that Meyer is oblivious to the fact that Bella is a whiny, cantakerous bint. Meyer really doesn’t seem to use her prose with any real intent – in fact, she seems strangely unaware of what she writes, often contradicting herself within pages of each other. The next Round will cover that point.
Rowling never makes me feel that way about Harry. I feel like, when Harry is being a jerk, Rowling knows it and wants to make sure we know it, too.
P.S. I remember you had a post about this once, so I dug it up, and it seems to me you were praising Harry Potter for its complex message of goodness. Are you playing devil’s advocate here?
I adore Harry Potter, no question. In a way I’m using it as a test case for the approach you’re developing here, since it’s a series both of us agree is wonderful. Does it stand up to the measures of literary merit you are using? What I’m not convinced of, I think, is the value of assessing literary merit at all. Historically, those assessments have typically been used either to exclude women writers from the canon or to construct a divide between high and low art that serves to reinforce social class hierarchies. That’s not your intent here, of course, but I do think that there is an element of elitism, especially when contempt for a text turns (as it quickly does) into contempt for those who enjoy it. I’ve always gravitated towards popular culture in part because I don’t think something becomes popular unless it strikes a chord, and I’m more interested in figuring out what that chord is than I am in proving that people shouldn’t enjoy something that they enjoy.
Touche, I see your point. If it makes you feel any better, I also think Romeo and Juliet was schlock, too :-p
My main problem with Meyer is not that she got popular despite weiling her pen with all the subtlety of an axe, but that she thinks that snowflakes have eight points and that Brazil is on the west coast. I am an intellectual snob, I know this, and Twilight pushes all of my buttons in that respect.
Traxy’s comment reminded me of how when I first started reading Harry Potter, I was uncomfortable with how freely the wizards use magic. In most of the fanasty books I’ve read, there’s always a cost to using magic, either to yourself or the world in general, and should be used sparingly. I always felt a twinge when they used magic to do something that could easily be accomplished without, like Mrs. Weasley and her household chores. Was that ever something that was touched on? (It’s been a while since I’ve read them)
This is such an interesting comment that I’m going to make a whole post in answer to it, instead.
Pingback: The Inconvenience of Magic in the Potterverse: A Ramble. « If By Yes
Pingback: Round 1: In Which Stephenie Meyer Confuses Feminism With Kung Fu. « If By Yes
I’m thoroughly enjoying your posts about this. I’m not (and never have been) terribly interested in reading the Twilight books, so I shouldn’t be too quick to judge, but I have read similar types of criticism many times before and the more I read, the more I’m glad I didn’t waste my time with these books. Reading all these excerpts makes me wonder what the hell made people want to keep reading the books – it just sounds so aggravatingly ridiculous. But, I rarely read book with a critical eye, so why should I expect others to?
Just wait until I get started on misnamed Shakespeare characters and the eight-pointed snowflakes… because even Meyer’s snowflakes are special snowflakes.
I’m loving this series of posts. Though I admittedly enjoyed the Twilight Series (I know it’s not well-written, but it is entertaining), I always had misgivings about Bella. It’s great that you point out all of the crazy in this series; I’m certainly looking at it in a different light now.
Pingback: If By Yes har gjort det igen | Famous Yellow Raincoat
Pingback: Round 3: Rowling vs Meyer – Time to Actually Discuss THE WRITING « If By Yes
Pingback: Rowling vs Meyer: Round 4 – How Can I Describe Meyer’s Writing? « If By Yes
“Once you cared about a person, it was impossible to be logical about them anymore. Jacob was my friend whether he killed people or not.”
Well, there you go! Love isn’t logical! Stop trying to do smart things!
Also, I found a blog that brought up the interesting idea that vampire vegetarianism could be a clever metaphor for sexual repression. Just another tidbit you might find interesting.
http://whatdoesthatsayaboutus.wordpress.com/2012/04/19/my-grievance-with-twilight/
Thanks for the link! Yes, I think that self-repression is a common theme.
Pingback: Rowling vs Meyer – Words: You Should Know How To Use Them « If By Yes
Pingback: Fifty Shades of Oh, Holy F***, Why Can’t You Write? | If By Yes
How DARE you compare Twilight to a compost pile?!
The compost pile provides many important nutrients to nature and helps life to flourish. Twilight provides little of value and causes minds to rot. As an amateur gardener, this is unfair to the compost pile!
On a less silly note, I think people are missing the whole ‘Sauron-trying-to-dominate-the-free-people-of-Middle-Earth’ thing. I don’t remember if it was made explicit in the movies, but he created the Rings of Power in order to try and control the wearers and bend them to his will. Basically, he gave them super awesome powers, but those super awesome powers came with a brainwashing effect.
The owners of the elven rings noticed, and found some way to hide themselves from the brainwashing effect (partly because those rings were made by the elves themselves using techniques taught by Sauron, which gave him some influence, but not enough). The owners of the nine human rings, however, weren’t so wise; they were blinded by power and corrupted by it. They became the Nazgul, soul-less shells of what they once were, completely bound to Sauron’s will. But hey, they have the ability to instill terror in others, right? That’s gotta be worth the whole soul-being-dominated-by-dark-lord thing, right? No? As to why Sauron handed out those rings, well, remember that all the recipients were lords and kings. Hmm, that’s interesting: powerful people; the temptation of more power, and addiction to said power; brainwashing. That’s just a coincidence, right?
The use (and abuse) of power is a pretty big theme in Tolkien’s work: Sauron used it to control, corrupt, and destroy, so he’s evil; Gandalf used it to protect and aid others, so he’s good; Saruman abandoned his original mission to protect Middle Earth for his own self-interest and pursuit of power, so he’s evil; Aragorn used it to empower the oppressed, fulfill his duties, and rule wisely, so he’s good. Those are just a few examples, and limited to LotR.
As for what happened to the dwarven rings: from what I understand, Sauron liked it and put a ring on it, but I guess the dwarves preferred being single. But I digress.
In any case, LotR and Harry Potter are both infinitely better examples of strong portrayals of good vs evil than Twilight (even if morality in LotR is rather heavily polarized and has slightly racist undertones).
Ooh, point taken are both.
I know Sauron IS evil, but Tolkien doesn’t spend much time exploring that (well, except in the later books that few people read for enjoyment). We don’t know what makes him what he is, and there are no layers to it. Evil is evil. Very black and white.
Tolkien wrote epic style, therefore no depth to characters.
Typical knight on a quest kind of story, he was attempting to write mythology of england. His story doesn’t have emotional indulgence, it was meant to be exactly that, black and white, except maybe in case of gollum/smeagol. I found the character complex for emotions it evokes from reader. It makes reader wonder are we to pity this character? Is he good or bad? The line is so fine there.
Reblogged this on mariasjostrand and commented:
Round three! Again by IfByYes.
Will post an original work later tonight as well.
I know this an old post, but I’m just now finding this series and enjoying it, so I wanted to leave a comment.
I started reading Twilight, but wasn’t able to finish it because I just hated Bella and her internal ramblings too much. Reading this, however, a thought crossed my mind.
What if Bella DID learn good and evil in this book, but consciously chose evil over good? Then proceeds to manipulate the readers through reasoning that her evil acts and decisions are good (which is a rather evil act in itself)?
If that were the case then Meyers isn’t wrong when she says that Bella learned good and evil. She also wouldn’t be wrong to say that evil is sometimes clean and sparkly, because the Cullens are evil (imo at least).
Interesting thought… but Bella is the first person narrator and repeatedly declares herself in the “good” camp.
Yes, but you have to remember that Bella’s superpower is keeping people (like Edward) out of her thoughts. If she is conscious of us readers reading her thoughts, then editing them to be more palatable wouldn’t be a very difficult step for her to take.
So, it could be that thought she is feeding to us readers are: ” I am a good person.” But her REAL thoughts behind her mind-shield are: “Lol, look at all those little girlies I managed to convince to my dark side, mwuahaha, I’m totally evil, trollollolloll!!!”
To be honest, I doubt Stephenie Meyers as a writer has the depth and skills to have written such a complex character intentionally, but I always love a good alternative interpretation of stories that make stories appear more complex than they actually are.
Oh, but on the other hand, maybe S. Meyers really IS just that good, and she is trolling us all (while raking in the millions). I really shouldn’t judge her (or anyone) at face value and pretend that she’s not smart enough for that.
Lolol
Stephenie Meyer sexist? More than sexist and anti-feminist I find it subtle in describing the characters of the saga, especially Sam, Emily and LEAH. This last character has been bribed to the utmost to favor Bella, Emily, Renesmee (everyone loves more than LEAH, all are better than LEAH, all suffer more than LEAH). Not to mention the way it justifies the imprinting of Sam and Emily. I’ve always found it reprehensible because she has never worked so well with Jared’s and Kim’s imprinting, Paul’s and Jacob’s sister. For this last Meyer said his imprinting came because the guy was mature (not to mention that Meyer made sure the boy had it with Renesmee that looks casual is the daughter of the boy’s first great love; Reiterate that they too were twin souls). Does this mean? What about getting imprinting to be mature? But if Paul has an irascible character, if Quil considers cool be a wolf boy, a superhero like that of comics. Quil has imprinting despite reasons like a teenager. Meyer detests LEAH and this is clearly seen in the saga. Although the author says that there is no trace of his faith in his books, I have always seen Bella and Emily who fully represent the model of the perfect Mormon girl, but not LEAH. Although I am autistic, it does not mean that it is so delayed that I do not see and understand, and luckily (and I’m happy about this) other people have also noticed Meyer’s subtlety and hypocrisy; The way he omits some things and puts him as much but vaguely (even in his interviews). A good example of Christianity.
P.S. Bella’s biggest problem is not its weakness, but the fact that she does not actually see and feel the pain of others (even though Meyer seeks to show the opposite, especially in Eclipse) just as empathetic and “deeply” good Edward.
I apologize for the bad translation and for venting. When I find something new that guardacaso is not in favor of LEAH, I’m crying…