#every single time i see someone trying to defend the new twilight series

[jvzebel-x]

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[bellaslilpapercut]

Eclipse reread part 3 bewr bewr bewrrr! Covering the entire rest of the book in ONE post so buckle on in baybee: 

1. Absolutely everything about chapter 15 (wager) is disgusting. To a certain extent I appreciate how successfully meyer captures how frustrating assault is as a woman, how futile it feels to fight against it. But at the same time the way she handles the aftermath is unbelievably disappointing and infuriating. Charlie doesn't get up to help his own daughter, Jake trails after Bella into the house and sticks around, there's just no relief or reflection that feels satisfying. Bella can ask where the justice is when she finds out Jake isn't aging but just ignores Charlie defending her assailant? And to some extent I get it, I've shut down after assault before to the point where it took years to recognize that some of the things that happened even were assault. But when there's a pattern within the series of men being narratively rewarded for assault and abuse and women being punished for reacting to abuse it feels like the narrative is reinforcing the status quo of women<men. I'm not stupid, I understand when a book is trying to make me uncomfortable and I don't need villains to be punished to know that they're villainous. This doesn't come across that way at all. Meyers handling of misogynistic abuse and violence lack the nuance to make me believe that she sees this violence as something to be critical of rather than something that just happens to women. And again, because it's a pattern in her writing, women getting no reprieve from gendered harm, I don't believe she's making a statement. There's just no self awareness and that's the key difference between a story like Brave New World or Lolita and Twilight.

2. Also this quote that precedes the assault is just so so frustrating:

Bella is not mean for setting boundaries! She isn't stringing you along! I would love to hit meyer in the head with a rolled up newspaper. Anyway.

3. Bella keeps saying things like "this would be annoying if it weren't so scary" in regards to having her clothes stolen by vampires that want her dead and having to lie to people around her, again because dozens of vampires want her dead. And y'know after the third time she said she would be annoyed if she weren't scared I'm just left to believe she isn't scared at all. I don't feel rising tension, the newborn army feels like a minor nuisance and even after they connect it to victoria (who still hasn't shown up at all) I'm just like...okay well get on with it then! Meyer makes bella "shudder" (I'm still tempted to make a comp of every time she shudders in this fucking book lol) instead of showing us her actual fear. I don't believe she's scared, I don't care about the "threat," and I don't believe anything bad will happen to Bella. There are Literally No Stakes here. I'm not invested in this story at all.

4. Alice is a bad friend lmfao

Girl, you're psychic you know she wanted to wear red why are you just dressing her up for your brother.

5. Okay returning to point 3 because I read chapter 17 and had an epiphany: Bella says she isn't scared for herself and I get that I do. But smeyer also hasn't shown us that she's selfless- just that she doesn't care if she dies. If bella actually cared for her human friends, in any way, I would believe that the newborn army was a scary threat because the people she loves might get hurt. But I don't believe that she cares about that I only believe that she- like Edward- has a weird martyr complex.

6. The Mirror chapter also reinforces this. I can’t stop thinking about how much more impactful it would have been narratively if it had been Angela in Bree’s position (because she’s the only human friend Bella seems fond of but if Bella showed interest in any of the other humans, honestly any of them would do). Imagine the moment where the newborn vampire first lifts her head to look into Bella’s eyes and it’s someone she knows. Someone she cares for. There should have been consequences for Bella beyond “Jake got some bones broken and now I feel bad :(” which was also a shitty punishment because smeyer is inflicting physical trauma on an indigenous character just to make Bella feel bad. Okay. Anyway, it would have built the tension I was missing for- quite literally- over 300 pages of this book if Bella’s friends and classmates and Fork’s residents had been going missing the whole time. Suddenly, at the end of the battle, there’s Angela. Or Jess. Or Katie fucking Marshall. Someone Bella knew should have been there and maybe I would have cared about this book at all.

7. Going back in time to this quote which comes before the battle:

UGH!!! SHUT UP SMEYER! She literally poisoned Jake’s character from the moment she made him a main character and she has zero self reflection to see the damage that she’s causing here. I’ve said before that I don’t think Jake’s actions were a romantic deal breaker and that stands out now more than ever after reading Eclipse. THIS is the moment that Bella realizes she’s in love with Jake too. Smeyer not only sees abuse and aggression as romantic, she also lacks the braincells and reflection to see that she’s playing directly into racist stereotypes. Edward got to grow up- marginally- but Jake had to remain aggressive. I still don’t think she ever once meant to villify Jake- I think that there was no way in a hell a racist woman could ever successfully portray an indigenous character. His tenderness is tainted by the aggression she forces on his character and in the end he never had a chance because- again- he was being written by a racist woman with fucked up views of indigenous people.

8. Okay, I get it. They’re like Cathy and Heathcliff. Fine. I buy it.  

This isn’t even the last time she compares them to Cathy and Heathcliff. Kate Bush isn’t gonna write a song about you, meyer! Give it a rest! (Also lol at “like wuthering heights”)

9.  Jumping right to the end here because to be completely honest the only actual event in the entire book was the newborn battle. Jane was a bitch, fine. Edward talked at Victoria and bored her to death (presumably) and the action never felt very action heavy. I knew if from the “best friend (and werewolf)” line that this book was presumably written for idiots given how little is left to the imagination at any given time. I can’t stand when books treat the audience like dummies and I especially can’t handle YA books that do this. Teenagers aren’t stupid!! Young adults can pick up on subtlety in literature!! AND young adults can handle suspense and action. smeyer doesn’t do either well and the editors never once said “hey you know teens aren’t stupid right? like your audience will pick up on hints that you scatter you don’t have to forcefully explain everything?”  

10. Smeyer can’t stop interrupting herself even in the very last sentence of the book proper:

What, pray tell, is wrong with “Where it would stay for the rest of eternity.” Why did you have to sow doubt in the sentiment right after Bella made her For Real Final Decision???? And why the em-dash!? Again: the editors of the twilight saga are my nemeses but also my favorite conmen. What were they paid for?

11. Back to the editors real quick: if i was given a draft of eclipse I would instantly say: this story is almost 400 pages of nothing, you need to play with the structure of the story. You need to build suspense and if that means playing with POV like you randomly start doing in the epilogue, then do that. Or you can play with the plot. Nothing happens for 300 pages. It takes 300 pages to get to the newborn battle and nothing that happens before the newborn battle makes me feel worried about it. Again, kill off some humans, raise the stakes, do SOMETHING. This was so painfully slow to read because meyer tried to center this book on a love triangle that I didn’t even believe in myself. And even then, it took 14 chapters for the love triangle to get real action (as in an Event, not necessarily physical action). 

12. The epilogue. Oh man. Was the r-slur really so acceptable in 2007 that not one single editor questioned its use? I won’t type the quote in full but Jake refers to his fake arm sling as r-word. Like??? What? And THEN smeyer has him call Leah a “bitter harpy.” Shut up. 

In conclusion, nothing felt like a bigger waste of time than Eclipse. Genuinely, to be completely honest. Two (2) important things happened, at least in Bella’s narrative (I agree with Vinelle that the Volturi debacle was important from Carlisle’s perspective, it adds nothing to Bellas and Bella learns nothing important from it.): 1. Bella made a decision, she chose Edward. Who could have seen that coming? Whaaaat? 2. Rosalie told Bella her backstory. Not that Bella even used that to reflect on her decision to become a vampire but hey, at least it felt like an important moment. Jasper’s backstory only mattered for the newborn battle which didn’t matter at all (and it never informed his character and no one ever brings up that the confederacy was a terrible dark stain on US history (along with the rest of US history but that’s a full dissertation or two on its own)). I can’t imagine a way to improve this book as a standalone book. You could split up the plot (using that term loosely) so that New Moon and BD are both a little longer and BD a little more organized. But without completely changing the plot beats in Eclipse, its just pointless.

[mayoperry-blog]

Six Unsent Letters

This is a project I did for an English 3 class in sophomore year. After reading “Twilight: Los Angeles, 1992″ by Anne Deavere Smith, I responded to the written play in a series of letters that I wish I could send to the characters in the play or to the world. 

Dear Latasha, You were too young. Just like that, your life were cut short by Soon Ja Du with to a single bullet. Du was found guilty of voluntary manslaughter, which has a maximum sentence of 16 years in prison. That’s some consolation, right? The judge gave Du probation, 400 hours of community service and a $500 dollar fine. Apparently your life is worth 16 days of community service and a couple hundred dollars. This horrific injustice did not go unnoticed. Your murder, along with Rodney King’s beating sparked outrage in Los Angeles that eventually turned into riots in 1992. You are not forgotten. I’m assuming you like Harry Potter, because you were 15 and what teenager doesn’t like Harry Potter, or at least heard of him? One of my favorite moments comes in the last book, when Harry is speaking to his parents and those who have guided him, and given their lives for him. “‘Dying? Not at all,’ said Sirius. ‘Quicker and easier than falling asleep’ ”. I hope this is how it was for you. I know that your family tries to take comfort in the fact that you did not suffer, nor did you have a single moment to feel the pain caused by that woman. No one has forgotten you, even now. Even after all these years, you are still as relevant as ever. On the 25th anniversary of your death, your family and community gathered where you died. They held candles and exchanged memories of your life cut short. The late rapper 2Pac referenced you in his posthumous 2002 hit, “Thugz Mansion”. Shakur raps, “Little LaTasha sho' grown/Tell the lady in the liquor store that she's forgiven, so come home”. The song talks about how he would rest in peace and find happiness when he is in a place where all the troubles and pains of his life come to an end. 2Pac also dropped names of African American icons, including Marvin Gaye, Billie Holiday, Sam Cooke, and Malcolm X. You are referenced among those who made an impact on the world and the African American community, because you’ve done exactly that. You have not been forgotten, and you have pushed your people to begin the contemporary fight for equality and justice in the eyes of the government. Latasha, you have done more for your people than you will ever know, and I hope that you, wherever you are, can realize that. You have not, and will never be forgotten.

Rest In Paradise Latasha. Sincerely,

Perry Mayo

Dear Mr. King, You are a legend. After your infamous beating from the LAPD, you became the face of your people. They fought, and are still fighting, in your name among others for justice. Your excessive beating stemmed from a high speed chase that ended with you on the ground. Although only two of the four attacking police officers were indicted for your attack, it lit the fuse on a deadly civil bomb. On May 1, 1992, you came forward with a plea for peace. You requested, "People, I just want to say, can we all get along? Can we get along? Can we stop making it horrible for the older people and the kids?" You are exactly correct. There’s nothing standing in the way of justice except insane bigotry, ground­breaking excuses, and white privilege that goes back for generations. You were not the first to experience unfair treatment from those who believe themselves to be better than you, and you won’t be the last. There were the jews, the Hispanics, the African Americans, and people of color in general. Now, a new group that just has to be oppressed, the LGBTQ+ community, with a special bright red target on those who identify as transgender. Your bravery and resilience empowered those who were too afraid to stand up to their oppressors, and has inspired the silent to voice their opinions. You know what I find almost laughable? The blatant double standard for blacks versus the whites. You’ve experienced this first hand, and you won’t be the last person to do so. You were caught in a high speed chase, and then beat within minutes of death, while in 2012, Dylann Roof was captured by the police after killing nine African Americans in a church in Charleston, North Carolina. You were nearly killed for driving 110 miles per hour, while Roof was taken into custody and given a bulletproof vest during transportation. Why protect the life of a homicidal maniac, while endangering that of a speedy driver? Thank you for your fighting spirit. I’m glad that your people have such a strong sense of unity and fight, because your uphill battle for justice is long from over. History will inevitably repeat itself, but I know that you are ready for the fight, and you will overcome whatever obstacles are thrown in your path. I can only hope that you are proud of yourself for sparking this revolution, and that you realize how many doors you opened for your people. Rest in peace, Rodney.

Sincerely, Perry Mayo

Dear Miss Rae, or Queen Malkah, Author Ralph Ellison wrote that as an African American “I am invisible... simply because people refuse to see me...When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves, or figments of their imagination—indeed everything and anything except me.” You can relate and absolutely agree, I’m sure. After the murder of Latasha Harlins, you spoke out about the unity of the African Americans, and your opinion on Charles Lloyd, a well­known black attorney, and how he represented and defended Soon Ja Du, who had killed one of his fellow African Americans. You’re right. He sold his card. He’s a sellout, trading in the pride of his ethnicity and the history for a fat paycheck. He doesn’t deserve to stand by you, if you thought for one second that he was a loss, you are sorely mistaken. He is as useless as a bicycle to a fish in my eyes. It’s people like you who will keep the fight alive, and keep spirits high. You value unity and standing together, especially in times of oppression and opposition. You recognize the disparity of justice between the African Americans, or people of color for that matter, and the white community. Not only do you recognize it, you speak out against it, something many would not do in the 1990s. You see beyond the fake promises of the Pledge of Allegiance for God’s sake. Liberty and justice for all, as long as you’re white, cisgendered, and heterosexual. What a great country we live in. You told Anna Deavere Smith, “if­the­white­media­does­not­decide­to­print­something­that­happens­to­us,­we­won’t­know/ ... Because justice denied Latasha Harlins/Is justice denied every American citizen.” Once again, your majesty, you’ve hit the nail right on it’s pretty little head. Skin tone doesn’t determine what someone deserves, in any circumstance. As soon as people see things from your point of view, the world will be infinitely better. You’d be proud, I think. With all of the movements that have sprung from your injustice, from chanting “Hands up, don’t shoot”, to staging “die­ins” based on the times that the victims cried for help or lay slain on the sidewalk, I’d imagine that you’re pretty proud. You’ve always been aware of the fact that based on the amount of melanin in your skin, you will have higher, harsher, and millions more hurdles than any of us out here, any of us trying to get by. But you, my dear, have navigated those roadblocks with ease and the grace of a golden pheasant. Your people need someone like you.

Here are my instructions for you, Queen Malkah: When times get tough, and big, bad history rears it’s head and tries to trample you and your spirits, you be there to lead your people. You hold your head high, raise your sword to the sky, unleash a battle cry more chilling than death itself, and run. Sprint headfirst into injustice, slashing anything in your way and reduce it to a dust. You charge, and you fight, and fight, and fight until you can’t fight anymore. Even then, you push through, until you’ve made it to the other side with your people close behind. Once you are in the beautiful forest clearing with your warriors surrounding you, only then, can you relax and celebrate your victory as equals of those who have pushed you down. But until then, rally your troops, and continue your battle for equality. We’ll be behind you, waiting for your cues. Thank you, your highness, I applaud you for your bravery.

Sincerely, Perry Mayo, a willing warrior at your service.

Mr. Zimmerman, I will not start this letter with “dear”, because that word implies adoration. You murdered an innocent man. It doesn’t matter if Trayvon Martin seemed “suspicious”. You were told, by the authorities, to star in your SUV and to not approach the teenager. Even if it was self defense, you went against the orders of police and instigated a fight with Trayvon, which ended with the teenager dead in the street. That’s not the worst part, I believe. In my eyes, the most sadistic part of the situation came after you murdered a 17­year­old boy. You put the gun used to kill Trayvon online, and tried to auction it off. Bidding in an online auction for the gun reached $65 million at one point as people on the Internet drove the offers to astronomic levels. Many of those were sarcastic, George, I can assure you that. A top bidder whose account has been since deleted, at one point used the name “Racist McShootface”. Another bidder competed for the weapon under the name Tamir Rice, another victim of police brutality. Tamir was killed by police while carrying a toy gun. He was 12. I just want to make it known that people are against you. I also hope that you know that by murdering Trayvon, you added about a thousand gallons of fuel to the fire that is propelling the black community. So, in a dark, twisted sense of the phrase, thank you, George. Thank you for showing adults that they can’t trust the police or neighborhood watch to keep their community safe or their children alive. Thank you for teaching teenagers that they should stay clear of the police instead of going to them for help. Thank you for teaching kids that the police are more dangerous than criminals themselves, and that you won’t protect them, you’ll kill them. Thank you for giving the next generation and the generations to come a precautionary tale about what happens when white privilege is added to racism, and multiplied by an accessible deadly weapon. So thank you, again really, thank you George, for opening our eyes to more horrors, and teaching us that monsters aren’t just in closets or under beds, on wanted posters or in jail. They’re on our streets, wearing government uniforms, and are trusted with the responsibility protecting the community. Thank you, George Zimmerman, for pushing the black community to fight that much harder for themselves, against people like you.

Sincerely, Perry Mayo

Dear Mr. Garner, You did not die in vain. After being choked to death for selling loose cigarettes, you became one of the faces that headed the “Black Lives Matter” movement. Your plea for help. “I can’t breathe!”, is being used as a battle cry for those fighting for justice. It’s not just in your city, or just those who know you. For two days in a row, a group of white collar professionals staged “die­ins” in support of calls for increased police accountability following the deaths of unarmed black men. Also, dozens African American men gathered on the front steps of the courthouse in downtown L.A. and held a silent vigil for those who have died in police confrontations. At about the same time in Oakland, protesters chained themselves to the city Police Department's headquarters. You helped fuel a movement that is sweeping this nation. Don’t you ever doubt for a second that you died for nothing. Something I find sick is that media has tried to humanize your killer. Daniel Pantaleo, the NYPD officer who choked you, has received so many death threats that a police detail guards his Staten Island home around the clock. People want to avenge you. The media has tried to cover up the crime of Pantaleo, by telling us about his childhood, his achievements, his innocence. They tell us about his teachers glowing comments, and that he received awards as an honorable Eagle Scout. We see past that. We know that the media is whitewashing your death, and making it seem like you asked for it. They say, “well, he was a threat who needed to be subdued”. It’s all bullshit. We know, and we are fighting for others to join us. Your untimely death has helped millions realize the type of false reality that we live in, and you’ve opened people’s eyes to the fact that the police aren’t always the good guys, and that black men aren’t always the bad guys. You’ve given people another reason to fight, and one more name to drop when the topic of injustice is breached. With three words, you’ve dumped gallons of butane on the roaring wildfire of black rage, and for good reason. “I can’t breathe”, and the entire black community is suffocating. You’ve given everyone, black or not, stranger or family member, one more thing to fight for. You should be proud of yourself, even if it doesn’t feel that way. Just know that you’ve done well by yourself and your community. I hope that you can finally breathe. Rest In Paradise, Eric.

Sincerely, Perry Mayo

Dear World That I Live In, These past two years, I’ve had my eyes opened to the world around me, and the world within myself. I have not yet fully come to consciousness, for that takes hundreds of years. I personally believe that no one has ever completely come to consciousness. What even is consciousness in the first place? Who am I to determine when or how one has their eyes opened to everything and anything, to the core of what holds our thoughts together, and what keeps us from literally going insane? I’ll tell you what consciousness is. Consciousness is everything and nothing. It is the balance between finding co­dependence and self love. It is realizing why we’re here and what we’re doing, while also not questioning why or how or what, and just being. You don’t need answers.

Consciousness is. How do we come to consciousness? How does one begin to become aware, while remaining in their personal matrix? We don’t. Here’s the only thing that we can do. Fall back into your beingness, let it catch you, and you are at home. There is nothing to do, nothing to change, nothing to fix. Just be. History repeats itself. The same ideas circle around every hundred years, and every hundred years, those same ideas drag the human race to the lowest of low,, to the depths of rock bottom. We sit, and wallow, and fight, until finally, one or two sensible people realize what humans have done to each other, and they pull us back up to a point where we can once again be proud of ourselves. When any given group oppresses another, the oppressed will soon enough turn around and take down another group. The vicious cycle has killed billions and will continue to kill until the world is reduced to a devastatingly singular and lonely person who has no one left, for everyone else was killed by the cyclical hate. One will remain, after the rest of the world has committed global suicide.

You, my dear, are sailing on the widespread and glistening wings of pure imagination if you think, for a single second, that the human race can go forth without destroying itself through a made up hierarchy based on one’s skin tone or who they fall in love with, how much they earn or what lies between their legs.

Here’s my two cents, coming from a teenager who’s seen more than they need to see to make a decision. I call my theory “The Fiji Complex”. I’ve been to Fiji twice, and I came to one

of the biggest realizations of my life during my second trip. I experienced an epiphany, if you will. I realized that the community had a completely different outlook on life, one that seems foreign and possibly laughable to anyone else. The way that Fiji operates is simple, with every citizen living their lives almost identically to their neighbors, whether they realized it or not. They put others before themselves. This is how I see it. Whoever it is, their needs, preferences, assurances or fears come before yours. When you are with someone else, they are top of mind.

Now, it may seem stupid and unrealistic, but it’s not. By putting someone before yourself, you don’t have to ignore your needs, you don’t have to sacrifice yourself for them to live. It’s not, and will never be, a win­lose situation. It’s a mindset. The way that they operate on the islands resonates with me, because it’s one of the most simple theories I’ve ever come across. When you help someone, they’ll turn around and help you. That’s what it comes down to. If you go out of your way to make someone comfortable, sooner than later, they’ll return the favor when you’re in need. If you put ten people before yourself, when the time comes, and you need help, there are ten people on hand who will be at your side at the drop of a hat, simply because you were there for them however long ago. It’s stupidly simple. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. In Fiji, there was no moral hierarchy. People were classified by clan and bloodline, income and gender, but inside, everyone was the same. No one was better or worse, morally or in terms of their mindset. They all had the same core value: the comfort of others. Whoever you are, foreigner, local, man, woman, child, gay, straight, whatever. If you are there, they will make you comfortable, and you will inevitably return the favor.

Now, you may not think, “because they helped me, I have to help them”. As a matter of fact, that thought won’t ever cross your mind. Something from inside will spark, and you will want to help. You’ll long for the feeling of being able to help someone, purely because you want to and you know it’s the right thing to do. With their comfort, yours will come. If you touch 100 people, just by doing small things like opening a door for them, giving up your seat, or even greeting them and acknowledging their existence, you have made 100 allies. You will have 100 people who will stand behind you and push you forward, and 100 people who will be ready to catch you if you fall, and help you back to the place you were at before you fell. Now, imagine if you did this with every person you met, every person you’ve interacted with. When the time

comes, you will have an army bigger than the Romans, stronger than the Spartans, all fighting for you. We need to remember who we really are. There is one earth but a million worlds, and no world is more important than another.

Behind race, income, orientation, gender, we are all humans. We all live together, and we’re all going to end up six feet under sooner or later. There’s not a single reason as to why you wouldn’t help someone. Social norms be damned. I can assure you, with 100% confidence, that helping that man on the street carry his bag is a million times more important than making your subway ride. I can say, without a doubt in my mind, that stepping in front of a child harassing another kid is a billion times more noble and touching than donating a fat check to a charity. The Fiji Complex takes everyone’s fears and social biases, innate or taught discriminations, and throws them out the window. Nothing is more important than a human life, and the value of the person, no matter who they are. A “lowly” beggar is worth just as much as a king adorned in jewels. Both have a heartbeat, a brain, and a conscious. Those are all the similarities you need to treat someone well and with respect.

Once people realize this, everything will be fine. Once people decide that your neighbor is more important than yourself, even just for a second, the world will be one step closer to living in peace, without fear of obliterating the human race. Police will be heroes again, black people will just be people, wars will be a thing of the past. Now, I can’t say how long this will take. Thousands of years. Maybe millions. We may even kill ourselves with pollution before this idea fully circulates the globe, but as long as people begin to realize what they’re doing, progress will be made. As long as two people have their eyes opened to reality, and what we can do as a human race to turn it around, I will feel satisfied. As long as one kid becomes aware of himself and those around him, I’ve done my job. But, until then, we won’t stop fighting. Queen Malkah, myself, and any other person who sees how pure this world can become will continue to preach and spread our message until the day we die. I hope that this idea of a united world isn’t just a dream.

For the last time, Sincerely,

Perry Mayo