Flex Like Carrie

For this Halloween, I'd like to celebrate how I became a writer. It was mid-2001, and I was a 13-year-old high school freshman. Unknowingly suffering from depression from near-constant school bullying since age 5, art was my release. But besides drawing for leisure, I was in love with reading. I was also a budding writer at the time. I didn't know it back then because I didn't know that it was actually difficult for some people to express themselves in writing when, in my mind, all I really have to do is use proper grammar, mind my spelling, and use slang with care, and adopt minimal profanity. I was an avid reader, and I might have read most literary classics if it weren't for my depression draining me of energy and enthusiasm for doing the things that I love.

This makes me extremely thankful for a friend of mine for recommending Carrie by Stephen King to me. I was unfamiliar with Stephen King at the time, and until Carrie, the only novels I've read were the Harry Potter books. So, Carrie was a refreshing read for me. The false document style of the novel was ingenious work, quite an achievement for somebody's first novel. Most importantly, as someone who was made to be a social outcast at school, Carrie White was my hero. Reading about how she destroyed the prom and almost everyone there gave me the most satisfying feeling. The prom scene from the 1976 adaptation starring Sissy Spacek did not quite do it justice. 37 years of technological advancement in filmmaking did the trick. When I watched the 2013 adaptation starring Chloe Moretz (who also looked like Carrie from the book), the experience was exactly how I read the book.



Watching this brings me back to that day in the library when I read this scene from the book and just felt so exhilarated that I had to write my "version." Instead, I got a better idea: I wrote an entirely different novel around the idea of a bullied schoolgirl with a supernatural ability. I will not disclose any more details about my novel. The point is that Stephen King's Carrie introduced me to a genre that I love. Beyond just horror, he adopts a degree of magical realism and combines horror elements with prolific storytelling inspired from Alfred Hitchcock and film adaptations of Edgar Allan Poe's works. Stephen King's novels and adaptations of his works don't need many Jump Scares, if any at all. Carrie and The Shining are two of the most effective horror movies where the scare is entirely in the storytelling.

I might not be able to move objects with my mind, but I can write stories well. And perhaps, like Stephen King, I can inspire others, too.

Feminism and Fiction

Betwixt my body image issues and the pervasive debates about feminism online, I realize how and why it's so difficult to portray women in fiction. Game of Thrones and Frozen are two of the works most highly praised for portraying women as complex characters in their own right as opposed to being a love interest (or worse, a one-dimensional villain) for a hero. Frozen and Game of Thrones also came out only a few years ago. This shows that, despite the successes of feminism in making the world a better place for women, the mass media still perpetuate stereotypes about women, even if they try to make a “strong and independent heroine.”

What Frozen and Game of Thrones got right about female characters is that, regardless of alignment, they have multifaceted personalities. They have more to offer than to be something pretty for a male hero to gain as a prize in the end. Being a complex female character doesn’t always require her to forgo traditional feminine traits either. This is somehow revolutionary in the realm of fiction, especially in mainstream pop culture. It’s just sad that this also shows what feminism tends to get wrong about femininity.

 In the past year, feminism has garnered significant backlash from a considerable faction of women in the Internet. The hashtag #womenagainstfeminism gained popularity in social media with quite a bit of help from BuzzFeed. This was in retaliation against misandristic attitudes from women who identify as feminists. Most active in Thought Catalog, BuzzFeed and Tumblr pages, these misandrists promote negative stereotypes about men, such as their penchant for abuse, rape, and violence in general. To them, men are incapable of affection and gentleness; and any woman who enters a relationship with one is either a traitor to feminism or doomed to an unhappy life of betrayal and domestic abuse.

Misandry means “hatred against men,” and there are many feminists who perpetuate this destructive attitude as an aid to promote women’s rights. But many women, especially those who are happy to be in conventional family life, vehemently disagree, with good reasons. They declare, “If advocating my right for respect for my life choices and equal treatment in business and politics means that I have to make jokes about violence against men; make hateful comments about their sex; and assume superiority over men, I don’t want to be a feminist.”

The same problems crop up in various degrees of subtlety in fiction. Emilie Autumn’s Fight Like aGirl album, based on her book The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls, has turned a tragic tale of abuse in the mental health institution into an allegory of radical feminism, to the disgust of female fans that are happy with their men. In a twist of irony, the Underworld series, Sucker Punch and, at a lesser extent, Taylor Swift’s music video for “Bad Blood” adopt the “girls with guns” trope as women empowerment despite the fact when it began as, essentially, action porn for men. If feminism demands respect for women, adopting girls with guns as women empowerment undermines this goal, as objectification of women is a major element in the genre.

There is also the faction of fictionists who take a different route. Apparently inspired by Xena: Warrior Princess, there are action heroines like Selene from Underworld and Katniss from The Hunger Games, who challenge the damsels-in-distress stereotype by wielding weapons and holding their own against powerful villains. Both heroines are not only fierce fighters; they are stoic and sarcastic. Besides their physical strength, their behaviors also defy the notion of the emotional woman.

I have a serious problem with that. While I understand that it’s clearly a reaction to the stereotype of a woman character manipulating others with her tears and acting upon her feelings, depicting an emotionless woman seems extreme. Not every woman wears her heart in her sleeve, but it doesn’t mean that a reserved action heroine ought to be perpetually stern or even borderline sociopathic. At least Selene gradually grows out of it when she experiences the joy of love and the fear and grief of losing Michael in the sequels.

Clearly written as a response to Bella Swan of the Twilight books, Katniss Everdeen is her exact opposite. Whereas Bella is gorgeous but doesn’t see herself that way, Katniss is severely malnourished and reasonably unattractive. Making her look acceptable for TV takes considerable effort from her stylists. Whereas Bella Swan is transparent with her feelings, Katniss is largely emotionless. Her first person narrative sounds like she is more of an (albeit spiteful) observer than a terrified teenager (unless she actually cries or becomes scared, which happens only a few times in the whole series). I commend Jennifer Lawrence for adding a layer of emotion to the character in the adaptation  (even though she doesn’t look the part at all). But I digress. Being excessively showy of emotion is merely a symptom of a usually bigger problem with a female character. But taking away emotion to enforce physical as well as mental strength for an action heroine seems rather shallow for me. It’s shallow because it doesn’t necessarily add to her character; it only reduces her femininity.

However, few people realize that about heroines like Katniss. Katniss has become the epitome of the “strong and independent female character” while female characters that still practice traditional gender roles are supposedly anti-feminist. Radical feminists criticize Molly Weasley for being a housewife to a man who works for the Ministry of Magic. They criticize Bella Swan for being “passive”; dependent to her men; and adopting traditional gender roles like keeping house and cooking for her father (more on this in an upcoming blog).

The problem with feminism is that it focuses more on combatting patriarchal oppression than celebrating femininity. It reinforces the idea that “women can be as good as men in everything,” so we must abandon traditional female roles and strive to gain success alongside men in business and politics, science and medicine, architecture and engineering, art and music and literature, and also in aviation and the armed forces.  there is nothing wrong with being a doting mother or a housewife as long as the stay-at-home mom is happy with it. Like all stay-at-home moms, Molly Weasley is constantly busy keeping house and raising children, including rambunctious twins Fred and George. In other words, it’s very hard work that must be appreciated and honored, especially by feminists.

Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with action heroines. Wonder Woman is a powerful super-heroine whose definitive trait is her compassion. But that doesn’t negate the fact that she will rightfully punish evildoers.

Beatrice “Tris” Prior from the Divergent series is a great action heroine not just because she can kick ass but also because she’s worked extremely hard to be able to do so. She’s special but she’s not the only one. The interesting thing about Tris is that, like Katniss, she is not particularly beautiful but that’s not relevant to the character. (This is one of the good things about Katniss as well.)

A heroine doesn’t need to be eye candy to be taken seriously, after all. Inversely, a heroine can still be beautiful but, like Wonder Woman, that’s not her most important trait.

Tris has fierceness about her, but also gentleness. Unlike with Selene or Katniss, the two traits do not negate each other. Tris never had to “discover the hidden softness under her hard core” like Selene or Katniss had to do because even though compassion doesn’t come naturally for Tris, she is considerate, friendly, and polite. The two traits are within her all along, as it is for all women.

Therefore, I would like everyone to learn that women are complex and ought to be written that way in fiction. We are indeed strong, but that can mean more than physical strength and combat skill. Wearing dresses and makeup, taking upon domestic tasks, or settling down does not make a woman less “strong and independent.” An ideal heroine is someone who can be any woman. She may or may not be beautiful; she may or may not care for her appearance. She may or may not be a combatant. She may or may not be a good person, even. But she is a whole person, nonetheless. The ideal heroine is one who feels for the other characters and what happens to them and her. She has dreams and desires. She has flaws and nuances. Not everyone might like her, and that’s okay. But she won’t take kindly to being insult or discrimination.

Hercules and the Elusive Accurate Adaptation

If I were more attuned to Greek mythology when this movie came out, I might have become very angry. Disney's Hercules is one of those movies that were good movies on their own but were terrible adaptations. Here are some corrections:

1. This movie neglects the fact that Zeus has fathered plenty of children, including Hercules's ancestor Perseus and most of the other Olympians. In Greek myth, Hera was the villain in Hercules's life because she is jealous of his human mother.
2. Hades' real name is Dis; Hades is the name of the Underworld. Hades the god is also not an evil figure; rather, he is a neutral figure who just happens to be the Lord of the Dead.
3. Philoctetes was neither a satyr nor a "trainer" of Hercules. He was actually a PUPIL of Hercules who later fights in the Trojan War.
4. I like the movie's treatment of Meg, but in the myths, Megara was the Princess of Thebes and the wife of Hercules. Under Hera's spell, Hercules slaughtered Megara and their three children. Hercules's subsequent adventures were for him to atone for this crime.
5. The Titans weren't monsters that produced chaos. In Greek myth, chaos was already there before the world was created. The Titans were merely Elder Gods that were later overthrown by the younger gods, the Olympians. Some of the Olympians were the Titans' offsprings.

Despite all of this, Disney's Hercules manages to be a great film. Maybe it should have deviated from the Hercules story altogether and made an original story set in Classical Greece, which is what it really is. Here we have a guy who is shunned by society because he is different; he becomes larger than life when he discovers his divinity and makes the most of it. We have a great villain who wants to stop him, and a henchwoman who unwittingly falls in love with our hero. She is a great character on her own as well, and a better role model than many other Disney Princesses, for various reasons.

Aside from the 90s TV series Hercules: The Legendary Journey, no other adaptation comes very close to the Hercules narrative. I heard The Legend of Hercules was terrible. I hope the one with Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson might actually be faithful to the source material, but the cheesy, Beowulf-inspired trailer makes me suspicious.

The Hunger Games Review

Maybe it's early for me to say that The Hunger Games was a disappointed; in fact, I'm disappointed with myself for being disappointed with it because I haven't even read the books and have only got the vital information on the story from my sister who recently downloaded and audio book and loved it. While I do not doubt the credibility of the book (I still intend to buy the full set to see if I might change my mind) or the skill of its author, I have quite a few problems with the characters.

Before I delve into the negative criticism, let me just point out that I do not hate The Hunger Games. I am actually impressed with this vision of a post-apocalyptic world. Although I have yet to understand why the Capitol wants to kill off a good chunk of the population that can rebuild human civilization, I like how it somehow becomes an allegory of the world today. I think it is socially relevant and really makes you think about how many governments leech out what's left of their nations' poor to exploit them as if it is a game.

This leads me to my strongest criticism of the story: I think it could have done well without a specific protagonist. I think it would have been better if each of the Tributes have their own place in the narrative, thus giving the plot more meat. By this I mean I think it would have been better if we focused on the Capitol's bullshit instead of one teenage girl's bullshit.

There, I said it: The Hunger Games' biggest flaw is its protagonist. While I understand her background and where she's coming from, I find myself not feeling for this character. As I watch as Katniss Everdeen pines for her hometown and she subsequently runs and fights for her life, I find myself idle. I don't feel like I care for this character.

Contrary to popular belief, good characterization is not all about 'relating' or identifying with her; I think it is more on caring for the character. It means you want her to succeed and survive and be happy by the end (or feel tortured for her failing). And I feel nothing like that for Katniss.

I do not hate Katniss, but I don't like her either. The first thing that turned me off about her was how she insults her mother just as she's saying goodbye. "No matter what you feel, you have to be there for her!" she orders her old lady. And before that, she is just dismissive on the woman. Okay, I understand Katniss is a teenager with her own brand of self-centeredness (this is not an insult; every teenager is self-centered at some degree). But just because she loves her sister like a daughter doesn't mean she is a wonderful, thoughtful, self-sacrificing martyr or something. If you want me to believe that, she has to understand the dynamics of loving someone; with her mother, apparently not.

The poor woman is devastated over the untimely death of her husband; while I can understand that Katniss would be angry with her for her subsequently becoming unsupportive of her two young daughters, leaving young Katniss to become the parent in the family, I think Katniss should have had better sense than to talk to her mother like that especially as she's literally facing the possibility of death. I know Katniss is not readily perceptive of the idea of falling in love. However, I think, as a woman, she should grasp better the idea of how awful it is to share your life, your soul, to someone who gives you two beautiful daughters, only to have him practically stolen from you by fate. While her mother definitely becomes halfway irresponsible, it would have been nice if Katniss stops to think: "Hey, this is my mother. I should cut her some slack now that I might never see her again."

Any chance of me giving a damn about Katniss spirals down further when I find myself rooting for some of the other characters, including seemingly antagonistic tributes like the older Black guy, the gorgeous blond guy, or the vicious knife-thrower. Despite their seeming cruelty, I find myself rooting for these characters (sorry I can't remember their names at the moment) because you have to remember that, like Katniss, they were brought to the Hunger Games against their will. They learned early on that they have to kill to survive. Despite how disgusting the concept is, I respect these characters because you just know that one basic fact, and it's enough. They don't need to resort to sob stories to take them seriously, like supposedly living in the "poorest town" of the "poorest district" where you support your family alone because your father died and your mother seemed to stop caring. But with Katniss, she seems to have all these hardships and still be awesome (with her hunting skills) and yet give me a reason to feel sorry for her. No, I'm not buying it.

And for a supposedly mature and cerebral young woman, she is extremely indecisive. I never really know what she wants in life. Sure, there are her responsibilities with her family, but other points in the plot seems to point to something involving romance. I accept that, so why can't this story just outright tell me that she's somehow interested in raising a family except she 's afraid to? Why resort to the Twilight standard "oh-I'll-just-play-with-this-other-guy's-feelings-to-test-if-I-feel-the-same-way" game?

This leads me to another peeve that irks even male fans of the franchise: Peeta is too wimpy to be taken seriously as a leading man. Don't give me that crap about him and Katniss "complementing" each other, because they don't. From the first time he and Katniss decide to be a team in the Hunger Games, all he ever does is whine and cry.

Look, I've seen men cry before, and it doesn't normally bother me. However, it does bother me that Peeta cries and Katniss is meant to become the strong one for him. While there are narratives pertaining to this type of situation, there are some narratives that do it well; The Hunger Games does not. If anything, its sole purpose is to make Katniss look good in contrast. A good writer should never have to resort to that contrived trick especially when you are dealing with a pair of characters of opposite sexes.

After some good exposure to feminist film and literature, I have since learned that so-called feminist authors are just as guilty as their male "adversaries" in demonizing the other sex. Is male demonization present in The Hunger Games? I can't tell yet. But there is definitely some Twilight-grade objectification. Peeta seems to exist to be an ornament for a contrived love triangle that shouldn't even exist when you already have something socially relevant and emotionally compelling like, you know, THE HUNGER GAMES!

Besides, if Katniss is interested in Gale, her friend from her hometown, she should have known better than to play with Peeta like that, especially when she already knows he has the hots for her. And again, why should I even bother paying attention with this subplot when I would have been happier to learn more about the other Tributes? Ugh…this is making me agitated. I think I'll write a Part 2.

What Would Edward Do?

I remember telling myself that I would finally stop ranting about Twilight. For a while, I have ceased talking about it, although I have entertained hateful thoughts about it from time to time. Also after finally reading all four books and the spinoff novella in PDF and the first three movies, I have also decided that the Twilight series is not worth the attention it is getting. When it comes to the hatedom, however, I believe that it is necessary to promote understanding as to why Twilight is what I and countless others like me think it is.

Perhaps what contributed to my recent silence toward the series is that I have been busy writing a couple of pieces of fan fiction set seven years after the series finale, with my favorite character, Leah Clearwater in the lead. Time and again, I have expressed through my stories my own interpretation of the characters particularly those I dislike, like Bella Swan, Edward Cullen and Sam Uley. Hell, I have even criticized otherwise likeable Dr. Carlisle Cullen, blaming him along with Bella for any unnecessary and pointless conflict in the series and their tragic outcomes. I am referring in particular to the death of poor Bree Tanner, who was executed by the Volturi just for being involved; she hasn’t done anything, not even stepping foot into the actual battlefield. I am also talking about the dozens of innocent people who were either turned into vampires and then killed or killed by these vampires as their meal.

Anybody who has read Twilight or the movie adaptations tend to blame Victoria for the unnecessary tragedy. But I blame Bella nonetheless. If she hadn’t been there on that fateful baseball game, James wouldn’t have run after her; Edward wouldn’t have killed him, driving Victoria on a vengeful rampage. I would even say that Victoria was a brave woman to have gone through the trouble of risking tipping off the Volturi just to kill one puny human with unnecessary protection, but that’s for another essay.

What concerns me now is an entirely different matter. Last year, I wrote a blog entry bemoaning the lack of appropriate conclusion for Leah Clearwater. I wrote a piece of fan fiction to appease my grief over the injustice of it all. Then, to see if the happy ending does not falter, I wrote a sequel set eight years after the ending of the first one; I suggest you read it here before you continue reading.

The plot concluded the way I wanted and the way it would naturally flow according to the circumstances. So far, I’ve only had two reviews. One is pleased with the ending, and another is not. The latter said: “Was a asome plot and story up till the last chapter. I hated it not that Im a bella and Edward lover but It really was off of character that stephine meyers made them to be. yeah Edward is real pain when it comes to protecting his family but I don't think he would be that way. Like Said great story up to last chapter.”

If you have read the story, you would see that I somehow made all characters as close to the canon as possible. But as a fan fiction writer, I believe it is also my duty to incorporate some of my interpretation into the story and into the characters. If you would check the author’s profile page, I made it clear that I am not a fan of Twilight, and I don’t share the fans’views about it. However, my general opinion of the books is mostly irrelevant here; the matter on hand is the character of Edward Cullen.

Edward has always struck me as an arrogant, devious and intrusive stalker who resorts to deceit and emotional manipulation to get what he wants. I think that, even in his few moments of genuine affection, he gets carried away by his own emotions because of his stunted maturity. He has no reason to love Bella, much less a reason to hate Jacob or his wolf-brothers (and sister). And even if I believe he does, Edward doesn’t give me a reason to care. The primary reason I don’t care for anything he thinks or says or does is because I blame him and Bella (and to a lesser extent, Carlisle Cullen) for anything that ever happens in the series; in fact, I root for Victoria for wanting to kill the little bone-bag and going through the trouble of making a newborn army just to kill someone who doesn’t deserve my sympathy.

If a heartbroken vampire is an unstoppable destructive force, isn’t Victoria only acting upon her own instinct and emotion suitable to that of a true vampire? And James, he wouldn’t have died if Bella wasn’t even in the secret baseball field with the damn Cullen family!

Okay, let’s think of it this way: if Bella did die, wouldn’t Edward be pissed and go on a quest to kill Victoria? If he is the protagonist, you would have rooted for him, right? Well, the same thing happened to Victoria; why would you still root for Edward and not her? What is it about Bella that she is so important?—that she is his “true love”? WHY is she his true love? That’s what I don’t understand! And I don’t need anybody to tell me to understand anymore. I’ve read all four books and the pointless spinoff novella. I’ve seen the three movies, and I am willing to see the next two. The series is ending, and nothing is there that could show me why I should care that Edward and Bella should be together.

In fact, I don’t think they deserve a happy ending. Leah Clearwater does because her life sucks, and she doesn’t deserve to feel hurt. Feel free to read my blog entry here to see why.

Now, as I have stated, Edward is a selfish, overbearing jerk with no contribution to society and therefore does not deserve to exist. Okay, maybe that was a little harsh. There are many other characters—well-written characters of any given alignment—that have little or no contribution to their society. And that’s barely even the problem; my issue with Edward is that he doesn’t have a reason for me to care about him. His fangirls might try, but so far, anything important or ‘good’ I’ve heard about him are the shallow stuff: that he’s affectionate, “protective” and “devoted” to the point of being annoying but it’s okay because he’s hot and his heart is in the right place so he practically can do no wrong.

Except that he does get carried away by his passionate and fiery temperance and even those who love him (fellow characters or real-world fangirls) admit that he does make silly decisions or thoughts. So now we get to my final point: why would he then not act the way he did in the climax of “Wolf People II”? Based on his fans’ interpretation on him, how else would he have handled the fear that the only other supernatural beings closely allied to his family is keeping a secret that one of them is married to what they all consider a true monster? Why would the fans “not think he would be that way”? Under the given conflict and circumstances, what would he have done based on the intended character structure Stephenie Meyer intended him to be?

Okay, maybe dragging a man by his hair to his wife’s feet was a tad cruel coming from Edward Cullen. But think about this: openly insulting the second closest man to his significant other’s heart is not that much of a stretch. If he can repeatedly call Jacob Black with derogatory terms instead of his proper name, how much crueler can Edward Cullen possibly be to someone he has identified as an enemy? For goodness sake, he tore off a heartbroken woman’s head because he killed her mate! He didn’t bother to see Leah’s point of view when she berated Bella and made her cry; he was arrogant enough to claim he knows what Bella is feeling but Leah’s mind is an open book to him, and he doesn’t understand why she’s angry with Bella for breaking Jacob’s heart. If Leah wasn’t remotely important to Jacob, Edward might have killed her if you ask me. So what’s to stop him from wanting to kill Nanuq?

What else could he have reasonably done? Come on, my Twilighter friends. Enlighten me.

My Deepest Regret

Have you ever had a memory that haunts you to this day? I have.

First, I’d like to say that I’ve been a great admirer of world literature since high school. I’ve learned by then that good literature is not limited to “canonical” works and that even some works considered “obscene” by the conservative community is worth some literary merit. Among these are the stories of D.H. Lawrence and the poems of Sappho, a Lesbian poet. Whether or not Sappho was a lesbian is a subject of debate; she was, however, a Lesbian, a native of the island of Lesbos. And if you’re wondering, yes, that’s where we get the word “lesbian”. And believe it or not, our Bible has its own share of erotic verses, and there’s nothing dirty about it. The way I see it, sex is wonderful, it’s beautiful, and if it feels so nice, God must have made it that way.

I remember learning the value of happiness in Philosophy and how that applies to ethics. Apparently, we human beings do things to make ourselves happy, right? We buy stuff because the happiness that certain objects—books, CDs, iPods, cellphones, laptops, or elaborate home theater systems—satisfy us. But according to St. Thomas Aquinas’s writings, which are derived from Aristotle, the ultimate happiness is achieved from Union with God and our good deeds on earth eventually lead us there. In that ultimate happiness, we would want nothing else. The way I understand it, sex is an imitation of that Union. Get it? Union?—sex?—pure joy?

But I am not going to argue about the value of sex; being inexperienced in the matter, I feel it is not my place to discuss it in depth. Instead, I am going to discuss the value of erotic literature—religious erotic literature. And I’m not talking about King Solomon’s surprisingly graphic Song of Songs.

When I was 16, a high school senior, a visiting professor arrived in the school to give an anti-pornography lecture. I had absolutely no interest in pornography at the time. And having almost absolutely no knowledge about sex (except having learned only as recently as the previous year how it was actually done), I wasn’t able to evaluate all the visiting professor’s ranting properly. In the six years that followed, I learned that she was a self-righteous fundamentalist who doesn’t know what she’s talking about and has never even seen actual pornography. She thinks online games that bear images of scantily clad, unrealistically big-breasted warrior women are examples. If she knew what she was talking about at all, she would have brought up fetishes like rape fantasies and such, and pornographic films that cater to such fetishes.

I say this because near the end of her lecture, she summoned audience participation and asked us to give examples of pornography. This memory makes me cry. The second person to give an example was a 15-year-old boy who gave the Kama Sutra as an example. And the idiot professor, unwittingly proving that she is an inept lecturer, didn’t know what the Kama Sutra was. The equally stupid boy explained that the Kama Sutra is a manual of sex positions. The professor was scandalized, and exclaimed that she had never tried out different sex positions. Alas, a majority of us didn’t know any better either.

Although I had already known at the time that the Kama Sutra is one of the most important pieces of Hindu literature, I had no idea how to explain that sex has its spiritual value. I kept quiet, more out of shock that the Kama Sutra is seen by these morons as pornographic. My deepest regret is that I didn’t bother to at least raise my voice and fist in protest.

For those who don’t know anything about Hinduism, let me explain their spirituality. Similar to the Five Pillars of Islam, the Hindus have what they call the Four Main Goals of Life or Purusarthas. Those are dharma, artha, kama and moksha, essential values that a person must fulfill in life as he goes through the four ashramas or stages of life, namely Brahmacharya (student or scholar), Grihastha (householder), Vaanprastha (hermit), and Sanyaasa (ascetic).

Kama refers to one’s pursuit of happiness by means of sensual pleasure. Although their highest spiritual goal is beyond this world, Hindus understand that it’s also important to make their earthly lives enjoyable. It makes life more meaningful. Sex is regarded as the height of all earthly pleasure. So Hindus take care to make sexual intimacy special.

That’s where the Kama Sutra is involved. Sex positions are not the only contents of the book, although they comprise the bulk of it. The book also contains advice for touching, kissing and relationships with concubines and courtesans. I’ve heard (or read) that the Kama Sutra is essential for a Hindu bride, indicating that this book is considered the key to a successful marriage.

The emphasis on sex positions has its own spiritual value. Given that each position is named after a body of nature (like a flower, a tree, or a celestial object) brings the human person back to his origin in nature. So sharing that with a beloved brings intimacy to a whole new level, doesn’t it? And I’m aware that this might not apply, but given that sex is an imitation of the Ultimate Happiness (i.e. Union with God), would it also echo the Hindu belief that each soul is to someday unite with Brahma?

It is important to understand that although the Christian doctrines tend to be rigid, it’s wise to avoid looking at other religions as subordinate. Hinduism values sex differently from the way Christianity does. For Christians, it’s a bit of a taboo topic, but not for the Hindus. For them, it’s so wonderful that it is meant to be upheld, a treasure to be cherished. There is nothing obscene about that. So when they read the Kama Sutra and practice its contents, it is not to indulge their lust, the way people subscribe to porn sites just to see naked people getting busy; on the contrary, it is to enjoy life while it last, and at the same time conforming to their spiritual obligations.

Pity I learned all of this too late. I can never forgive that stupid woman for misleading a room full of impressionable minds, and I find it hard to forgive myself for letting her do it. Pornography serves only to serve people’s lust; the Kama Sutra does not. End of discussion.

Where's My Happy Ending?

This has been long overdue, so now that I'm still in the mood for this after recently posting a Leah Clearwater-central fic under my account http://www.fanfiction.net/~aeshnalacrymosa, I'm getting on with it.

In a previous entry in which I discussed my preferred outcome in Eclipse and Breaking Dawn, I mentioned Leah Clearwater quite a few times. Alongside Jacob Black, Leah Clearwater is my favorite character because of all the female characters, she is the one who exudes confidence and courage throughout her existence in the series. I also love the fact that she actually has the guts to berate Bella for all the bullshit she puts Jacob Black through, and whether you like it or not, Leah Clearwater always happens to be in the right.

Leah Clearwater first appears in New Moon in a perfectly insignificant scene wherein her family has dinner with Jacob's. Leah Clearwater is described to be beautiful; like the Cullens, that's the only kind of description about her that you would get from Bella Swan, who is so shallow that all she ever notices are looks. But by the next two books, I saw instead a strong woman who manages to be brave through troubles greater than Bella ever experiences. Bella only goes through one breakup and snaps and doesn't recover for months whereas Leah loses her boyfriend to her cousin, and a few months later, she loses her dad too, and Leah still keeps a straight face.

It's true that her manner of grieving put off her brothers. I suppose I would also be annoyed if somebody in the group somehow couldn't keep her problems to herself. But how could you blame a 19-year-old girl who first loses her boyfriend to her cousin for no apparent reason and then loses her father, who, if fan speculations are to be believed, died from a heart attack when she and her brother transformed into wolves for the first time. If that wasn't enough, becoming lycanthropes instantly gives them both duties that had nothing to do with them, duties that thrust them into a world of violence, pitting them against vampires that Leah is afraid of. And what's more, she now belongs to a brotherhood of men-wolves with constant telepathic contact with each other, meaning that she can hear her ex-boyfriend thinking about her cousin. That's really painful beyond measure, and it's really unfair and unjust how everybody in the "wolf pack" now cast Leah as the bad guy for being "grouchy" and a "harpy" because she doesn't approve of this norm.

Apparently, Leah's ex-boyfriend Sam imprinted on her cousin Emily, meaning that Emily is Sam's destined life partner and Leah is not. It's more than simply predestined love, Jacob explains in Eclipse; Sam happens to be "physically compatible" with Emily, meaning that she is "the best candidate for passing down the werewolf gene." But you might ask, if Leah is already a werewolf like Sam, why isn't she the one? It is revealed in Breaking Dawn that since Leah's first "phasing", she has stopped menstruating, rendering her unable to have children of her own.

That must be a great blow for a 19-year-old girl preparing for adulthood. It's even more painful that judging from her manner and voice during her conversations with Jacob Black in Breaking Dawn, Leah appears to be somewhat ambitious, which is a big deal coming from a young woman from a Native American reservation, which, let's just say, is normally not the best breeding ground for the world's most influential people. According to a blog by a Native American woman who has read the Twilight series, "the rez" is usually plagued with extreme poverty laced with disease, famine and substance abuse. Having promised herself to "have a job outside La Push, attend community college and take yoga classes for the sake of my well-being," Leah must be a mighty ambitious woman indeed. So how would you feel, having big dreams like that and yet getting stuck with a bunch of selfish morons who all think you're a bitch because you're heartbroken, not to mention that you have to work with them because you have a job to kill monsters who are likely to kill you first?

So maybe punishing them all by continually bringing up internal scandals and being snappish and sarcastic all the time is a bit mean. I don't quite blame the others for being angry at her all the time, but they could at least show a bit of kindness to a mourning person instead of behaving like they wouldn't feel the same if they were in her shoes. What pisses me off worst of all was that by the end of Eclipse, Jacob (and I suppose, so does the rest of the pack) preferred to defend Sam for leaving Leah, saying that "it's not Sam's fault Leah turned into this harpy. ... Sam loved Leah."

How much did Sam love Leah? The first time that was brought up, I imagined that although the "magical" union between him and Emily was unbreakable, his feelings for Leah never changed. I would have been able to accept that. But in Breaking Dawn, I learned that this "fact" was superficial at best and was not true at all.

When Bella was found to be pregnant with Edward's demon spawn, Sam decided on leading an unprovoked attack against the Cullens, but because of Jacob's feelings for Bella, he refuses to obey and then, by virtue of being the son of the chief of the tribe, Jacob manages to break away from Sam's authority and becomes his own boss; when Seth and Leah Clearwater later follow him, he becomes their boss, their Alpha. Soon afterwards, Sam sends Jared as a messenger for him, ordering him also to call Leah Lee-Lee (Sam's pet name for Leah when they were together) and "get down on one knee if I have to." If Sam really loves Leah, he would think she would be worth the effort of going all the way across the county and beg on his knees to make her come back. But no, Sam's too good for that. He didn't bother; he sent someone else who must have preferred to not be involved.

The subsequent events made me fall in love with Jacob Black all over again.

Because of what I perceived to be the absence of external influence, Jacob's mind becomes clear and he is finally able to understand Leah: "I knew what it was like for Leah, having to see that all the time, hearing it in Sam's head. ... I would never blame her again." This was right after Edward first hears Renesmee's thoughts in Bella's belly, and the two of them coo over the unborn child as though Jacob wasn't right there in the room trying to comfort Bella, who was ailing from the difficult pregnancy.

I hated and loved that scene at the same time; it was the only scene in the entire series filled with poignant emotion that wasn't insufferably melodramatic. But I felt Jacob's pain there, while he watched Edward and Bella being happy, making it clear for him that he didn't belong in that picture. His heart torn, Jacob flees the scene and desperately finds someone to imprint on, just so he wouldn't have to deal with the heartbreak.

Heartbreak was what Jacob and Leah bonded over. By the end of the series, they considered each other as cherished friends, but not before an event that occurs while Jacob was away, grieving.

Jacob returns to the Cullen house to be greeted by a seething Edward, who informs Jacob that Leah had just berated Bella for hurting Jacob. Edward "loves" Bella, so I would understand how angry he would get, but the way he went about it was irrational, to say the least. He cannot read Bella's mind, but he thinks he understands how painful it is for Bella to make Jacob stay and care for her, whereas he can read Leah's mind like an open book but he fails to comprehend the meaning and emotion behind her harsh words for his wife. Jacob turned out to be more mature than the 101-year-old vampire; Jacob only appreciated Leah more for having "vehemently championed" him, because as far as he was concerned, Leah's behavior was far more justified than Bella's.

If you wonder why I think this is the case, let me explain. If you love someone, and I mean really care for someone from the bottom of your heart, from the core of your soul, would you subject him to unending anguish by making him watch you being happy with somebody else you obviously love more? Hell, no! You would spare him the pain and let him go and be happy by himself or with someone unattached. But no, Bella doesn't do that: she has too much fun playing with Jacob's feelings, feeding him affection and asking him to give her some, as if to make him feel like he still has a chance with her while she's already married and carrying her husband's child. If that's not an inconsiderate bitch, I don't know what is.

Oh, but Leah sees Bella for what she is. And Leah isn't afraid to point that out. Her mental contact with Jacob made her empathetic with him, urging her to barge into the Cullen house in human form (perhaps stark-naked!), making her vulnerable to the vampires' attacks, just to tell the bitch what kind of a heartless whore she is.

At that point, I expected that Leah and Jacob would eventually hook up. This is effectively evidenced by their earlier conversation in which they agree against imprinting and desire "falling in love on my own." The chemistry was perfect, despite the occasional bickering. But no, this is not what happens; instead, Jacob becomes a pedophile by imprinting on Bella's newborn baby.

I shall be skipping some of the details at this point, but the important part is that by the end of Breaking Dawn, everyone gets a happy ending, except Leah. Sam gets Emily and never gets punished for having hurt Leah; Paul gets Jacob's sister Rachel and is never punished for being incredibly rude to the Black family by hogging all their food; Quil gets Emily's 2-year-old niece Claire; Jared gets his classmate Kim; and Seth is happy enough being friends with the Cullens. Hey, even the humans get paired up!

Leah only has a big dream, which is good. However, due to the demands of the responsibilities of being the pack's Beta, it doesn't seem likely that this ambition is coming true any time soon. It doesn't help that there is also no promise or hint that Leah would become normal again, that she might be able to have babies after all. I really feel that there is a great injustice here. If anybody deserves to be happy, it's Leah. NOT SAM, NOT EMILY, NOT PAUL, AND ESPECIALLY NOT BELLA! The poor girl has had enough troubles already, can't she have a break? I think it's really cruel that Leah would be treated like that. It's not any worse than what had been done to Jacob, who gets a leftover for the hell of it.

I don't care if Stephenie Meyer said she'd love to write a story on Leah Clearwater's point of view. She has no love for her characters at all. Bella is her avatar and Edward is the OH-SO-PERFECT PRINCE CHARMING and Renesmee is THE WORLD'S MOST UNIQUE BABY, and THAT'S ALL SHE EVER CARES ABOUT!

Review of The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner *SPOILERS AHEAD*

I’ve just read The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner: An Eclipse Novella online, and I was surprised to find it about twenty times more palatable than any of the four books in the Twilight “Saga”. Owing largely to its length, I finished it in one day—approximately 6 hours—minus about two hours in between that I spent eating and surfing the internet. It’s not at all better written than any of the books in the “Saga”; Meyer still committed “thesaurus rape” quite a few times, but not as much this time because by using Bree Tanner’s voice, she didn’t have to use ridiculously big words to attempt to sound intelligent like she did with Bella. Bree Tanner was only palatable because it’s more concise than usual (which I previously thought Meyer could never accomplish); although I would say that Bree Tanner could have been even shorter if Meyer could write any better.

I had been expecting the story to begin with the titular character being turned into a vampire; instead, we find Bree complaining about her companions who are “stupid” and rash and inexperienced.

At first, I thought we were going to have a Bella clone, but I was proven wrong later. We subsequently find out that Bree was appointed to be with these other new vampires by Riley, the leader of what we already know from Eclipse to be an even larger coven than just Bree and these few vampires. But Bree breaks away from this group to hang out with another vampire—a rather charming Hispanic boy named Diego, who later reveals that they do not combust in the sun as Bree had previously thought. After this encounter, Bree develops feelings for Diego. To my surprise, Meyer actually succeeded to be a bit more subtle about this than she did with Bella and Edward. Bree seems cautious about it; she becomes willing to call these feeling “romantic”, especially when Diego kisses her lips without warning, but she doesn’t suffocate the narrative with it because she’s more interested in observing what’s going on around her.

Among these observations were of a “college age” boy named Freaky Fred, who has “repelling” powers. I didn’t understand this at first, but I sort of understood later that his gift was similar to Bella Swan’s in Breaking Dawn. It’s like he can conjure a shield around himself, like Bella, but whoever gets close to it becomes “nauseated” and so compelled to keep distance. An offshoot of this ability is that by using this shield, he can make himself “invisible”, which I understood to be “undetectable” by other vampires rather than strictly “invisible”. Near the end, Fred becomes fond of Bree and urges her to run away to Canada with him and avoid the final battle with the Cullens, who they only know as the “yellow-eyes”. Bree agrees, but she tells Fred that she’ll catch up when she finds Diego, who Riley said was with Victoria, whose name was never revealed to the young vampires. Fred goes ahead to Canada while using his ability to go undetected by Riley and promises to wait for Bree and Diego for 24 hours while Bree looks for Diego at the edge of the battlefield only to find her large coven dwindling and dying.

You all probably know by now what happens in Eclipse, so it turns me off that the plot—Diego and Bree’s earlier motivation to find out Riley’s purpose for creating vampires so many and then Bree’s plan to run away after she realizes that Riley had been lying to them about burning in the sun and then hiding from them his and Victoria’s conniving with the “dark-cloaks” (the Volturi)—would be utterly pointless. That being said, it’s no doubt that this entire novella is pointless in itself. Bree does win my heart when she becomes determined to see through these tasks and then bravely faces death when she fails. But the fact that her courage and resolve accomplishes nothing really turns me off. I normally don’t mind tragic endings, but having no resolution is a big letdown.

Maria Clara the Mary Sue

María Clara has long been identified as the ideal Filipina, and at first glance, it’s not hard to see why. Gentle and meek, María Clara would never hurt a fly; the closest she came at it was when she was hitting Crisostomo Ibarra with a fan, but that was a playful encounter. Devoutly religious like her father Capitan Tiago, she looks to the Holy Virgin as her mother, having lost her biological mother Doña Pia from childbirth. María Clara might as well be an avatar of Mother Mary herself; any scene including her would not be complete without description of how beautiful and chaste she is. “Everything about her breathed virginity, purity, innocence,” as she is described shortly before the end of Chapter 40.

But I beg to differ.

José Rizal’s Noli Me Tangere is better known for its legacy of provoking the Philippine Revolution than for its literary merit. Considering that Noli was Rizal’s first novel, it’s not that much of a surprise. (It’s nowhere near bad but it certainly has its faults.) Rizal’s poetry is better than his prose, I would say. His earliest ventures into literature was into poetry rather than prose, so I’m not going to take it out on Rizal for writing such a miserable excuse for a love interest as he had not much practice for prose apart from his journalistic undertakings in La Solidaridad. (I might be wrong, of course.) Noli Me Tangere borrows heavily from Victor Hugo’s style, as both Hugo’s and Rizal’s works incorporate criticism of social issues within the plot. Rizal’s text is mercifully fast-paced, but certain long-winded descriptions tend to slow it down. Such lines include anything with María Clara in it.

The idea that María Clara is the symbol of the ideal Filipina might have been a misinterpretation. Forty-four chapters into the novel, I simply do not see a reason why. María Clara is a completely static character and contributes absolutely nothing to the plot; she is there just for everyone else to fawn over for her beauty, talent for music (specifically for singing and playing the piano), and her genteel manner. If anybody else is not entranced by her, they are envious of her.

But I am neither drawn to nor envious of María Clara; I’m just irritated with her. Aside from everything I’ve already mentioned, and in case you haven’t figured it out yet, María Clara is a Mary Sue—a Purity Sue, to be exact. She is the very essence of goodness, to the point that she might even put Mother Mary to shame. For this, she doesn’t seem to bear any hint of a [character] flaw, and everyone simply loves her.

When I first encountered Noli Me Tangere when I was 15-year-old schoolgirl, I practically swallowed up my teachers’ biased interpretations of the novel. It wasn’t my teachers’ fault; I’d say it has to do more of the curriculum and the poor educational system than the faculty itself that result in misguided education in the Philippines, but that’s not what we are discussing here.

I remember feeling for María Clara as what was expected of me. Now reading Harold Augenbraum’s English translation of Noli Me Tangere, I couldn’t read a scene with María Clara in it without wanting to swear at the book under my breath. It’s true that “Clarita” never utters a foul word against anyone, nor even thinks about spiting anybody; however, despite having everything a maiden would want—a loving family, loyal friends and a devoted lover— whenever María Clara does or says something she would either be complaining or crying for no apparent reason. But hey, I understand that she was depressed when Ibarra was excommunicated, but that was no reason to have a nervous breakdown over it ... becoming bedridden with just a fever, not talking to anyone. She practically turned into a baby; crying was the only thing she could do. María Clara was probably the original emo character.

María Clara is also a Relationship Sue; she exists only to be Crisostomo Ibarra’s love interest. Without her, the plot would have carried on without necessary alterations. There is no conflict going on with her; she’s suffering, alright, but everything terrible that happens is completely beyond her control. Rizal could have given her a task she could handle herself, but he was too busy making friars angry by “painting” them as perverted tyrants in a pseudo-dystopian society. If Rizal knew that María Clara has no significance to the plot whatsoever, he should have just killed her “onscreen” in Noli Me Tangere instead of killing her “offscreen” in El Filibusterismo.

As for the notion that María Clara is the prime example of the ideal Filipina is nothing less than insulting to me. I can understand how being meek and submissive is ideal; it’s always been that way in patriarchal society. But I won’t accept it if it means being totally ineffectual with no dreams or aspirations of my own. If anything, I think the notion as mentioned above might have been a mistake. We would never know for sure what Rizal was trying to put off but a highly intellectual guy like him would more likely place strong women like his mother and sisters to be ideal Filipinas; considering that Noli Me Tangere was meant to be a criticism of Philippine society in under the Spanish rule, could it be that María Clara was also what the Filipina should NOT be?

Maybe it’s just my modern idealism talking, but I personally and seriously think that it was a misinterpretation. Somebody must have admired Clarita’s submissiveness and disregarded everything else. If you ask me, like any man, a woman should also have the chance to make something of herself in this world and not be just a pretty face.

If there’s another character that should be the epitome of the ideal Filipina, I say it’s Tía Isabel. She might not be the best character on the novel either, but she’s caring and she wants the best for her family. She might not be María Clara’s mother, but she cares for the girl like she’s her own daughter. Similarly, she looks out for her cousin Capitan Tiago and is not afraid to tell him off when he says or does something stupid.

"Juliet is perfect," said Bella Swan.

For someone who has a bachelor's degree in English Literature, Stephenie Meyer doesn't know shit about Shakespeare. To some extent, I could see the resemblance between Meyer's twisted love story and Shakespeare's timeless classic Romeo and Juliet. However, Meyer fails to see the underlying significance of the play that his excellent writing tends to unwittingly conceal: Romeo and Juliet are nothing more than stupid, angst-ridden, hormone-driven, rich teenagers willing to risk their own lives and that of each of their families and friends for sex. Critics and literary experts even consider Romeo and Juliet as Shakespeare's worst work, but only because it lacks the sociopolitical impact of his other works such as King Lear or Macbeth; not to mention that Shakespeare wrote Romeo and Juliet as a satire of how foolish young people (i.e. teenagers) can be, rather than the epitome of love and romance as Meyer apparently sees it to be.

Keeping that in perspective, let us move on to the single line that really struck me with ire the moment I set eyes on it while I was reading New Moon several months ago: “Juliet is perfect.” Although Shakespeare is known to defy the rules and standards set by Aristotle's Poetics, but he gets away with it with good writing; however, Shakespeare does obey the rule that in order for a plot to take place, a conflict must get in the way of the protagonist and further complicated by the protagonist's “flaw”.

Assuming everybody reading this knows the conflict and plot of Romeo and Juliet, there must be character flaws that go with it, right?

Romeo's flaw tends to be more obvious than Juliet's. Rash and reckless like a whirlwind, he immediately falls for Juliet so soon after breaking up with Rosaline. Romeo also went straight to Friar Laurence, mere hours after meeting Juliet, to arrange their marriage. But wait, whose idea was it for them to get married?

Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.
If that thy bent of love be honourable,
Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,
By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;
And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay
And follow thee my lord throughout the world.
~Juliet, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

There you have it, people: it was Juliet's idea. She was no worse than Romeo, and not any better either. If there was any hint of so-called “love” within them, they might have at least thought about sacrificing their affair to avoid further conflict between their families or else urged their parents to reconcile so their relationship can have some breathing room. Unfortunately, the young couple thought of nothing else but to satisfy their sexual desire, which they know they'll taste only at marriage.

What was so “perfect” about Juliet anyway? I for one don't see anything pure or perfect about her. Like Romeo, she thinks of nothing but herself. Like Romeo, she is just as willing to risk getting disowned for having an affair with the enemy. … If that's not stupid, I don't know what is.

If Eclipse and Breaking Dawn Ended My Way

I finished Eclipse two nights ago, skipping several insignificant paragraphs and dialogs along the way. This makes me just one book short of finishing the Twilight series—two if you count Midnight Sun. (I wouldn’t count the upcoming The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner because it has nothing to do with Bella or Edward.)

Like the two previous books, Eclipse could have been shorter; but “concise” doesn’t seem to exist in Stephenie Meyer’s vocabulary.

The epilogue was my favorite part. Told in Jacob’s point of view, Jacob is contemplating on the future now that Bella is bound to choose Edward over him anyway. Leah Clearwater taunts him while she urges him to get over Bella; her speech and actions were hostile, but she was the only character so far (apart from Rosalie Hale in the first book) who ever said anything that made total sense.

The falling action with Bree and the Volturi caught my attention in particular. Little Bree’s presence was so captivating despite her short existence in the book that I’m not surprised that Meyer wants to tell Bree’s side of the story.

Even if I happened to be a fan, I don’t think I’d like the outcome of events at the end of the third book. I already know what’s going to happen in Breaking Dawn; considering what I’ve seen in Eclipse, here’s how things could have turned out if it went my way:

Carlisle Cullen could have convinced the Volturi to spare Bree. His previous alliance with the ancient coven should have earned him enough influence toward them. If they let Carlisle adopt Bree, Bree would have been a new little sister in the Cullen family, as well as a witness to the events in Breaking Dawn.

Meanwhile, a few casualties could have been nice; and it would have made total sense, too, considering that Victoria’s army of newborn vampires clearly outnumbers the Cullen family and the Quileute wolf pack, not to mention that they’re bigger not only in numbers but in strength. I don’t mind Sam or Rosalie or Jasper Hale or even Jacob Black getting killed. It would still break my heart to have Jacob die, but at least that solves the love triangle issue the easy way. This also spares everyone from the nauseating prospect of Jacob “imprinting” on Bella’s baby.

However, if Jacob doesn’t die, it would have been great if he ends up with Leah. This is something that many a Breaking Dawn hater (including former fans) were expecting. Now that I’ve seen Jacob and Leah interacting, it would have been great if they fall in love in the end. I’ve read somewhere that in Breaking Dawn, Leah actually defends Jacob by telling Bella off. I realize that Stephenie Meyer wanted every character to have a happy ending, so why not let Jake and Leah get together? That’s a lot better than having Jacob fall in love with a baby and have Leah still be left with nothing.

Jacob's Kiss

For the past several months, I’ve been joining the bandwagon of Twilight Haters (a.k.a. “anti’s”) who read the entire Twilight series for the sake of either acquiring concrete basis for their dislike, or for having something to make fun of. I am doing it for the former, and to try to find the reason why fans of the series exist in the first place.

I am now more than halfway through Eclipse—a feat that I never thought was possible until I was there. Eclipse, the third volume of the so-called Saga, was the straw that broke the camel’s back for many a hater, and even a few fans. The highlighted reasons for this are as follows:

1. Edward’s abusive and controlling behavior
a. Taking out the engine of her truck to keep her from visiting her best friend Jacob
b. Bribing his sister Alice with a yellow Porsche to take Bella hostage
2. Jacob forcing a kiss on Bella

So many anti’s have discussed the first one that I feel I don’t have to tire myself by repeating my fellow haters’ sentiments. However, I have my own complaints about it, aside from the fact that Edward is a glorified abuser. I have a problem with Bella’s viewpoint about it. When Alice picks her up from work, Bella figures out what was going on and asks, “Alice, don’t you think this is just a little bit controlling? Just a tiny bit psychotic, maybe?” Alice responds with: “Not really. You don’t seem to grasp how dangerous a young werewolf can be. Especially when I can’t see them. Edward has no way to know if you’re safe. You shouldn’t be so reckless.” If you ask me, even with consideration with the circumstances involved, what Edward did was improper, especially for a boyfriend. But Bella automatically accepts Alice’s explanation, as though it was the most reasonable thing in the world. I was even more disgusted, later, when Jacob confronts Bella about what Edward did: “You forgave him for all that?” Bella answers, “There was nothing to forgive.”

Really? Practically taking her vehicle apart—nothing? Acting as if he has any authority over her—nothing? They are lovers! They are supposed to be equals! Keeping Bella safe—that is not Edward’s job; he is not her father. Behaving like one just takes their relationship to a whole new level: their love becomes more perverse than it already is; the protective paternal gesture merges erotic and filial love.

Most fans claim that Bella’s willingness for Edward to do these things justifies his actions. What these fans don’t realize is that victims of abuse are often in denial and unable to recognize the signs of abuse because they are blinded by love; they fool themselves into thinking that that their love is worth sacrificing their freedom and personal happiness, or that maybe the guy has a good reason. This is exactly how Bella’s mind works. She doesn’t quite realize she’s being victimized by her boyfriend, who probably doesn’t realize he’s going about things the wrong way either.

This brings me to the next point: Jacob forcing himself on Bella, to the point of kissing her without permission. To female anti’s in particular, this is a big deal. It’s extremely improper for a man to kiss a woman once she’s made it clear that she’s in love with someone else. When Jacob kisses her so forcefully, she has every right to be angry. But wait, does she?

Maybe it’s the part of me screaming “TEAM JACOB!” that’s trying to cut Jacob some slack. To some extent, Jacob has his own valid points in the conversation before and after the kiss:

“You wouldn’t have to change anything for me. You know Charlie would be happy if you picked me. I could protect you just as well as your vampire can — maybe better. And I would make you happy, Bella. There’s so much I could give you that he can’t. I’ll bet he couldn’t even kiss you like that — because he would hurt you. I would never, never hurt you, Bella.”
(Eclipse – PDF, page 255)

“They told me I couldn’t tell you — that it wasn’t safe for you if we were together. But I never left, never! I used to run around your house at night — like I do now. Just making sure you were okay.”
(Eclipse – PDF, page 255)

If you ask me, that’s more than enough reason for Bella to choose Jacob over Edward. The kiss, in a way, was his last desperate attempt of claiming her. I was ticked off by Jacob’s show of arrogance after the kiss. This is probably why many fans go for Team Edward. But thanks to another anti’s opinion, I now share her sentiment on the possibility that Stephenie Meyer made Jacob a jerk to make Edward look good by comparison. But I take that as Jacob’s mask, his attempt to his sense of defeat, especially in front of Edward. It’s not so different from Leah Clearwater, who keeps a brave face while she could only watch her ex fall in love with her second cousin, her best friend Emily Young.

I haven’t read up on Leah Clearwater yet. I shall be making a new entry about her soon.

Danielle de Barbarac a Mary Sue?

This has disturbed me since I read this essay on Mary Sues, which fleetingly mentions Danielle de Barbarac as a Sue. Although I could see that Danielle's character matches the qualities of a Mary Sue, I keep finding myself trying to make excuses that she's not.

When I watched Ever After in full for the first time last year, I was absolutely awed at Danielle de Barbarac’s display of wit and intellect. As a girl, Danielle grew up listening to her father as he read to her books on philosophy and science. Such subjects captured her heart; in the years to come, after her father’s sudden death, she treasures these ideals she learned in these books, especially in Sir Thomas More’s Utopia. In effect, Danielle grows to care so much for the peasants and outcasts, especially when she becomes one herself when her stepmother turns her into a servant.

Ten years after her father’s death, she carries with her these passions; this is perhaps what keeps her strong in life and work. In an effort to keep Maurice, her family’s oldest servant, she disguises herself as a “courtier” and impresses Prince Henry and his men by reciting: “A servant is not a thief, and those who are can’t help themselves. If you suffer your people to be ill-educated and punish them for that educated disposed of them, what else is to be concluded, sir, but that you make thieves and then punish them?”

I was impressed myself and after other similar quotes, Danielle gradually stole my heart.

For the rest of the movie, she keeps charming the Prince and also Signore Leonardo da Vinci with her witty and feisty attitude. Danielle might be unusually free-spirited for a 16th-century French woman, but at least it makes sense: her father was a healthy man who gave her access to heavy books. Besides, it is from lack of maternal guidance that Danielle’s best ladylike ways do not come naturally and have to be observed from wealthier women. This is perhaps reason enough for her not to be uptight or squeamish unlike her stepsisters Marguerite and Jacqueline. Danielle is fun-loving and adventurous like the present-day woman. She even befriended a gang of gypsies, who are considered outsiders who don’t deserve anyone’s sympathy.

Another realistic touch to Danielle is that, with her powerful ideals, it would have been more sensible for her to run away from the manor and make a life for herself. But she doesn’t for the sake of self-preservation (at least she gets fed and sleeps with a roof over her head) and to keep an eye on her parents’ valuable properties and the servants she considers her only family.

Danielle is undoubtedly a good character, but a Mary Sue?

According to TV Tropes, a character with Sue-ish qualities can get away with it if written well. Danielle may be incredibly smart and witty and “beautiful all along” but by the way she’s written out, it works.

Perhaps what ruins her is the climax, when Monsieur Pierre Le Pieu was held at swordpoint—his life in exchange for her freedom. “My father was an excellent swordsman; he taught me well,” Danielle warns the lustful merchant. Meanwhile, her designated love interest, Prince Henry, is racing to rescue her, but by the time he arrived, Danielle is walking out of the mansion completely unharmed, as a display of her independence. It would have worked if it didn’t involve a sword, because that seemed to have come out of nowhere. Danielle was supposedly eight years old when her father died; what self-respecting father would teach a little girl to do combat? He might as well have handed her a gun.

Reading Anne Rice

When I read the Penguin Classics publication of Bram Stoker’s Dracula at the age of 13, I officially proclaimed myself a vampire fan. That was after I had watched the novel’s 1992 film adaptation, which was directed by Francis Ford Coppola. I loved the movie for its awesomeness and smooth storytelling; I loved the movie even more after I’ve read the book, because then, I had a better understanding of the vampire myth.

Unfortunately, despite my claims of becoming a vampire fan, Dracula remained to be the only sample of vampire literature that I actually read.

A few years passed, and many vampire movies became popular. I’ve watched Van Helsing, which I expected to be a mind-blowing back story for Abraham Van Helsing but turned out to be a fanfic crossover of Dracula and Frankenstein, (Seriously, where the hell did Victor come from?! Igor isn’t even supposed to be there!) AND disregarded a few facts about Dracula (only a werewolf can kill him?—puh-lease!) AND threw Abraham van Helsing out of the window. I came across trailers of Underworld and Blade, but never got to watch the movies. After such a time, I felt like I'm not worthy to call myself a fan of the vampire literature.

So, after finally watching the Interview with the Vampire movie, Nosferatu, and a few episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and True Blood, I decided to pick up Anne Rice’s most popular work. I’ve read and heard people claiming that it’s the next best thing after Dracula, but I also encountered negative opinions. A classmate of mine claimed she didn’t like Anne Rice, but I didn’t ask her why, because I didn’t want to expose myself to negative opinion before making some of my own. Unfortunately, I have been exposed to some on YouTube, but the negative comments about Anne Rice turned out to be pretty tame.

Most of such comments basically said that Anne Rice is long-winded. I am now halfway through Interview, so now I can see what annoys some of its readers and fans. As it clearly explains on the title, it is an interview—a human interviewing a vampire in order to delve into the mind of a vampire, who somehow deviates from the evil vampire stereotype: Louis de Pointe du Lac, who is deeply in touch with his human nature, complains about killing people (and is ashamed of doing it even for the sake of his own existence) and the pains of immortality. It is a fresh story, and people love it for that new taste; however, it is an interview, so it should look like one. But as it approaches the middle of the story, it becomes more like a first-person narrative punctuated by questions from the human interviewer, which gradually becomes less and less essential because Louis seems to drone on and on as if he can tell the story on his own without the need for questions to continue.

At some point, I wondered if having the entire narrative in first-person point of view would have been better, because by the middle, when everything grew more and more intense, it didn’t sound like an interview anymore. It didn’t look like somebody telling a story to somebody else. After all, who would tell a story from over a hundred years ago with complete dialog and explicit detail?—and in an actual conversation, no less?