TulsaPeople / June 2010 / The “Twilight” effect

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The “Twilight” effect

The teen fiction saga resonates with men and women of all ages.

 

OK, statistics first. I’m 43, a husband, father, PR guy. Team Edward.

I’m up on a lot of things. Not everything my kids are, of course, but I can hold my own in pop culture discussions. I knew of the “Twilight” Saga phenomenon. Stephenie Meyer wrote her first book and it took off like fire through dry underbrush. I knew the basics. A high school girl, Bella, falls in love with a vampire, Edward. Interesting premise. He’s a real gentleman. Very chivalrous, very conservative, no sex until marriage. She is self-deprecating to a fault. The original and ensuing books in the series sold like, well, “Twilight” books.

For me, the movie came first. I had no plans to see the film. We got a free weekend of Showtime and “Twilight” was on. We watched it and — boom — I was hooked.

Now, I know good movies, and this is no great film. But just like the film’s young star, Kristen Stewart, has that certain indefinable quality about her, the movie captured my attention. I couldn’t stop talking about the story. I talked about it with my wife, mother, sister-in-law, co-workers and strangers. My 14-year-old voracious reader of a daughter found my reaction very amusing but didn’t laugh at me — to my face at least.

So, we got the set of four books and I dived in. I was almost done with the first book when we rented “New Moon” the following weekend. It was a better movie — better cinematography, better effects — but still not a great film. And that whole Jacob thing — didn’t care for it.

The books, though, were something different. I’ve never read anything remotely close to a young-adult romance fiction and really had no expectations when I cracked the cover. By the end of “Twilight,” I was even more hooked on this thing. I couldn’t tell you what exactly I was hooked on, but it had me.

So two movies down and into book two: “New Moon.” I found the second book a little frustrating. Man, she really loves that Edward. Hole-in-the-chest love. Emptiness and indescribable pain when separated. But again, that whole Jacob thing.

Books three and four — “Eclipse” and “Breaking Dawn” — were better than the previous two. They did a nice job of putting meat on the bones of the Bella and Edward love saga. While the movies focus too much on the angst and brooding, the books have a warm, almost light feel to them at times. But still, Jacob remained a complete nuisance.

So, at last, there I was reading the final pages of “Breaking Dawn” after the penultimate scene that brings a climactic resolution to the saga (no spoilers here; read the books). I was sitting there on the couch next to my wife. She had been amazingly supportive of my little “Twilight” adventure. She’s happy any time I’m reading and not watching TV. Then, just like that, I was done. I closed the cover. The saga was over.

I was a little sad. It was a happy ending; of course, it had to be. But I still didn’t know why I had reacted the way I did to the whole thing. So I did something dudes don’t often do — I examined my emotions. Very strange. Uncomfortable even.

It took me several weeks after finishing the books and re-reading them a second time to figure it out, but I finally did. It was right there all along. As a matter of fact, she was sitting right there beside me.

The reason I had been so taken with these young-adult romance books was because I had once been a young adult. I was older than 17 when I met my “Bella,” but I knew when I found her that I would never be the same again. No matter what happened, within moments of meeting Diana, I would never look at life the same way again. I’m far from “Edward the vampire” perfect. I don’t always think before I open my mouth and I tick my Bella off a lot more than I should, but I love her just as much as I did the day I met her. Edward has nothing on me in the true-love department.

While writing this, I got up and walked over and kissed her and told her I love her. I could tell her a hundred thousand times. I could write poems and love songs and even pay a skywriter to put it up in the clouds, but that wouldn’t be enough to let her know what she means to me. I can remember like it was yesterday the evening I met her. The moment I saw her for the first time just a few feet away from me dancing with someone else. She smiled at me and — boom — I was hooked. I tell the story often, but it’s true — I asked her to marry me less than 10 minutes later. Luckily, she took me seriously when I asked her for real.

So, yes, I admit it. It took the “Twilight” books for me to realize something I knew all along, something I know every day but don’t acknowledge nearly enough. I love my wife. I am blessed with a love that, like our two young lovers Bella and Edward, I feel I don’t deserve. I am lucky in ways I don’t even understand.

For this moment of clarity, this tiny minute of joy in the middle of millions I get to spend with my true love, I say thank you, Stephenie, for writing your books and helping a middle-aged guy celebrate that once-in-a-lifetime love I discovered 20 years ago. And, yes, I still don’t like that whole Jacob thing. Put a shirt on, kid.

Christopher Metcalf is a husband, father, public relations professional and writer who lives with his wife, Diana, and a bunch of kids in Jenks. Visit christophermetcalf.com.