Do any of these from a new Washington Post article with the tag line “Good, smart, literary women tried to resist the romantic-vampire phenomenon. And then, alas, they bit.” sound familiar to you at all?
“Prior to ‘Twilight,’ my favorite books were by Anthony Burgess and Ayn Rand,” says Jenny West, 32. “I bought ‘Twilight’ [the book] with the full intention of ripping it apart.” Then she read it. In one night. Bought “New Moon” the next day. “I was kind of horrified with myself, and I had to keep going.” When she finished the last book, she reopened the first one and started again.
“I noticed in that first week of reading that I was feeling things I hadn’t been able to feel in a long time,” says Lauren Ashlock, 27. She’d avoided the “Twilight” series ever since the 2005 release of the first book, because when she saw the passion of so-called TwiHards, she thought, Wackos.
The Washington Post has an article examining the conflict of adult Twilight fans, who may have come to love the series a bit reluctantly. The article is a good read, especially for anyone not completely out and proud in their Twilight Love. And I think echos what many of our readers may feel as well.
I particularly liked this part:
Men feel perfectly comfortable slathering their chests in greasepaint and screaming like half-naked ninnies at football games, but women too often over-explain their passions, apologizing for being too girly or liking something too trashy.
The grown women of “Twilight” will no longer apologize. They will go to those midnight “New Moon” screenings.
But as for telling them how silly they’re being, how Edward is not real and neither is Jacob, how their brains are rotting and their sense of reality is being distorted and this obsession is crazy, just crazy? There’s really no need.
They already know.
And we don’t care.