One more bite before I puke...

Breaking Dawn

I'm not quite done with it yet. It's like Les Mis length, okay? But I'll probably be done with it soon-- despite the fact that I can't stand it.

Yesterday, Terr texted me with "The book sucked." I wasn't sure what she meant, and I never called her for clarification. I have two possible interpretations of that message.

1) The book sucked. As in, the book was poorly written, the plot wasn't great or was too all-encompassing, etc.
2) The book sucked because a beloved character died.

Well, my only hope is that both of the above are true. Because #1 is already true, and I think that #2 is the only possible option that will salvage this story.

Now this is the thing, the Twilight series isn't great literature. But they have been great reads. Sure, they're fantastic, indulgent, and over the top. But they are adrenaline pumping reads. I can imagine this series will last for a long time, but not like Harry Potter. The difference is that I really cared about the characters in Harry Potter, but most of the time I can't muster one bit of connection to the characters in this series. (Tangential Aside: I detested the Epilogue in the final HP book.) Quite frankly, I felt more connected to Stephanie Plum in Evanovitch's books than I do to Bella Swan, but then again I am an adult like Stephanie Plum and not a hormone-ridden teen like Bella. So I imagine it must be quite different for all of those girls out there who are getting dressed up like the characters. Which is neither here nor there.

Breaking Dawn is over-indulgent pulp, saccharine to the extreme. Dark Shadows multiplied 10 times with a huge dash of fashion from Vogue. All the emotions - like the hugest, longest roller coaster ever. Perhaps that's teenage life. I can't remember. But the emotions - all either felt to the nth degree or felt too shallow at all. For example, Bella becomes a mother. Sure there are descriptions of her all-encompassing love for her child, but it feels as heartfelt as one's love for vanilla soft serve. (I wish I had some right now. And I am sorry McDonald's employee at whom today I yelled. --Ugh what one will do to avoid ending on a preposition.--) You can feel heartfelt love for ice cream, but I sure do hope I have more depth of feeling for my future children.

BUT I CAN'T STOP READING IT. It's giving me a headache. It's got some crazy narcotic effect. I almost feel like I just ate a whole packet of Lik-m-aid, but it's a book. Mmm... Lik-m-aid.