Bella Swan—Redefining Sacrifice, A Good Way to Die, in the Place of Someone I Loved

**Due to recent misinterpretations of some one post from this blog, a disclaimer is now apparently necessary.  If this is your first visit to The Scratched Camera, please read the introductory post and discover, for yourself, that every typed word that follows is unabashedly my opinion and mine alone.  In said introductory post, which, shockingly, I did not simply type up for my own good health, I state that we all read events and characters with our own baggage in mind; no one observes with a perfectly clear lens—hence the name The Scratched Camera.  Therefore, it is completely your will to disagree with any material that follows, just as it is my will to agree and advocate for what is mine.**  ~End, irritating obligatory disclaimer~

Bella Swan—Redefining Stupidity Sacrifice, A Good Way to Die, in the Place of Someone I Loved

Much like with Katniss Everdeen, when I contemplated the parameters for my role model scale, only one name came to me for the absolute low:  Bella Swan.  I have very little respect for the character, the bulk of the supporting characters in the series, or the series itself, for that matter.  The writing is rubbish—there’s little plot beyond the love triangle.  The minimal action-based plot could’ve easily been accomplished in one book, not four. 

            Regardless, I will do my best to keep snide comments directed towards the lack of credibility of the series to a minimum.  Instead, I will attempt to focus on Bella’s less than shining example as a heroine. 

            The series starts with Bella’s move from Phoenix to Forks to reside with her father.  With the move comes a sudden increase in popularity—but particularly amongst the males of the school.  This, according to Meyer, was modeled on her own experience of moving from high school to college, wherein her “stock went through the roof.”  This revelation, to her, appears to represent that “beauty is a lot more subjective than you think.” 

            Her second quote on the matter implies to me that, by showing Bella’s instant popularity with the males of Forks, she’s attempting to make some form of a grand statement—believe you’re attractive, and others will begin to think so too; in turn, this confidence will earn you the attention of those around you.  I’m not really interested in whether or not this is true.  What is far more interesting to me is that the statement seems to imply that, in order for Bella to know she’s attractive and worthy of any attention from guys, she had to have a sudden influx of external attention forced upon her. 

            This, of course, is absolute nonsense.  No girl should require attention from a man to feel important.  Herein lies Bella’s first strike against her—other characters—cough, Hermione, cough—teach us to look inward to find our value and beauty.  Swan, and by association Meyer, teach us to look outwardly towards to the approval of others. 

            While I had no knowledge of Meyer’s quotes on the issue prior to the completion of this article, this particular part of plot had never quite sat well with me from my own readings.  I could appreciate the existence of “new kid syndrome,” where anyone new to a school is instantly fascinating for approximately the next week.  I could even appreciate the fact that Bella didn’t seem very receptive to the attentions—the fact that she had resisted had, at first, been promising to me.  However, the whole scheme is overplayed—the boys are just too overzealous and the girls just too jealous to be realistic.  It never sat well with me; it felt like, despite Bella’s obvious disapproval, she still fed off of the attention.  Meyer’s commentary on the situation now confirms my concerns were justified.

            This should have served as an indicator of things to come.  I read the first few novels in the series long before they went viral.  There were not even whispers of Team Edward or Team Jacob at the time and, therefore, I had no idea just what I really should’ve been preparing myself for. 

            I survived Twilight with a few numbered complaints.  I certainly wasn’t satisfied with the character, by any means, but she wasn’t quite the ridiculous heap she would become in New Moon.  She seemed obsessive, certainly, but I had met my fair share of teenage girls that weren’t far off from her in terms of relationships. 

            I want to preface this by saying I, by no means, disapprove of obsessing.  That would be rather hypocritical of me, as I quite enjoy obsessing over characters, television shows, movies, novels—analyzing, turning the material over from every angle, combing through every layer in an attempt to understand the writer’s message as fully as possible, to receive every potential implication they could be sending to me. 

            That being said, there is a distinct difference between obsessing over written material—in the sake of seeking new knowledge—and obsessing over a significant other.  When someone obsesses over a significant other—in the way Bella does—they seek to learn everything about that person, to the point where they start compromising their own personality traits and quirks to take on some of the other person’s.  In the process of their acquiring this information, they alienate their friends and family, choosing instead to spend all their time with the new significant other.  Soon enough, the new significant other is the only person in their life.  In the case that the significant other grows tired of the leech relationship and leaves, the character is left with nothing but a shell of their old selves.  When you no longer know where you begin and the significant other ended, how do you go about putting your original self back together?

            This is precisely what happens to Bella towards the start of New Moon.  Swan gets a paper cut, causing Jasper to lose control, attacking and narrowly failing to kill her unfortunately.  Seeing the danger he’s put Bella in yet again, Edward finally decides to leave.  Knowing she will never accept his attempt to protect her, he decides instead to tell her that he no longer loves her.  The Cullens will be leaving Forks immediately, never to return. 

            Bella had several options at this juncture.  I had expected some form of heartbreak to be involved—I may look for admirable strength in my role models, but that does not mean I am cold-hearted and malevolent.  I can appreciate that she is young and may not know how to properly adapt to a situation like this yet.  We all make mistakes with relationships, particularly when we are young; I was not immune to it, and, therefore, it would be hypocritical for me to expect Bella to be.  I may have made my fair share of dependent mistakes in my teens; I had not, however, under any circumstances, ever felt so defeated as to lie in a ball on the forest floor.  To me, this required a new sort of low.

            My respect for Swan at the close of Twilight had been approximately a 5/10.  With this move, within the first one hundred pages of New Moon, that rating plummeted to maybe a three, if I were feeling generous. 

            I had expected her to feel love’s keen sting, as Dumbledore would say; she wouldn’t be a realistic character if she didn’t.   But, as she lowered herself to the forest floor, curled herself into a ball and proceeded to get herself into a state of hypothermia, I saw a disgustingly weak and feeble-minded girl.  Surely, simply because her boyfriend had left her, that didn’t mean her entire life was over—that she should surrender and settle for sacrificing her life?  I fully expect Bella would still be out in that forest, long dead from freezing to death, had it not been for Charlie finding her and forcing her to return home. 

            When Ron leaves in Deathly Hallows, Hermione is devastated.  She chases after him, calling for him to return, yelling that they need him to complete the search for Horcruxes (see what I did there?  Bella’s biggest worry is who to flirt with this week—the werewolf or the vampire.  Hermione’s got shit to do and a world to save).  When she can’t find him, she doesn’t curl into the fetal position in some random forest in rural England—she returns to the tent, knowing that Harry, Ginny, Luna, Neville and any other number of people, need her to keep her wits in check. 

            This isn’t to say she doesn’t feel the intense pain of his loss.  As I said in my post dedicated to Granger, had she failed to feel the heartache and, dare I say it, even show it on occasion, it would’ve made her character appear closed-off and, therefore, very difficult to relate to. 

            Swan takes this extreme to the opposite end of the spectrum.  She feels the pain too acutely—to the point where it prevents her from functioning.  After this, I can never see her as a character worthy of my respect.  The action tells me that the only concern is her love life, that she has no further goals or ambitions.  It isn’t that this makes Bella unrealistic—in fact, I’ve met several woman who are far more like Swan than Granger.  It is that it sets a horrible example for an entire generation of young female readers, in an essence undoing all the good Granger set in motion.  

            If her nap on the forest floor didn’t prove this, her course of action to follow it certainly does.  After months—literally months, just check the pages in the middle of New Moon for confirmation—of depression, she manages to dig herself out, albeit in a mopey and pouty sort of way.  Shortly after exiting her hole, she has an experience where she suddenly thinks it’s a good idea to approach a dangerous group of thugs.  While she makes the approach, she suddenly hears Edward’s voice. 

            From the moment she first heard him I knew Bella was doomed.  My respect for her was at a three, following the forest issue.  Once she heard his voice as a result of placing herself in danger, I knew that three wouldn’t be holding much longer. 

            And I was right.  In the following chapters, she does some impeccably stupid things—from leading on flirting with a werewolf shape-shifter (my bad, I know people who actually like this book are adamant on this) to jumping off a cliff and nearly drowning in the process. 

            This sends a message dangerously similar to Romeo and Juliet—true love even if it’s with a vampire is totally worth killing yourself for.  This is, of course, disgustingly false.  I hate that Meyer has taken it to this level—driven Bella to the point where she is desperate enough just to hear his voice that she will literally jump off a cliff. 

            Cullen returns and strikes a deal with Swan, as she is now insisting he make her a vampire.  Honestly, I’ve heard of clinging—we’ve all suffered from it at one time or another, but Bella’s drive to force Edward to handcuff himself to her for an eternity takes it to a previously unheard of proportion.  To me, her motivation is just that—it was never about the strength or power that came with the position.  The events at the beginning of New Moon shook her confidence in the relationship—in short, she wanted to make sure he couldn’t get away again.  By insisting to be turned, she’s essentially insuring that he can never leave her. 

            While this is not inherently true—ask Spike and Dru how that whole “eternity” thing worked out for them—that is not my biggest issue with it.  Several times, Edward refuses to turn her.  Finally, in Eclipse we learn his reasoning.  He believes vampires are inherently soulless and, therefore, are not privileged to make that climb up the stairway to Heaven at the last curtain call, a point that Spike and Angel could certainly validate.  He explains this to Bella and, shockingly, she doesn’t care in the slightest.  She, much like the bulk of teenagers, isn’t overly worried about the state of her soul; she can look no further than her impetuous need to be a vampire and, therefore, secure herself a position next to Edward for the remainder of her days.  Although, Buffy, at the same age as Bella, certainly knew better…

            Knowing this, Edward is forced to strike a deal with her—he will only turn her if she will marry him first; he is, after all, a century-old gentlemanly vampire.  Bella, hot off the depressing presses of the failed marriage of her parents, hates the idea of it.  Although, why she’s okay with changing her entire being for the promise of forever and yet bulks at the idea of just slapping another title and ceremony on it puzzles me to no end.  Personally, I think the anti-marriage issue is Meyer attempting to add some personality and insecurities to Bella without fully thinking through the repercussions it would have on the character’s motivations.  Rookie mistake, really.  But, alas, I digress.  Also, ever the reputation-driven teenager, she’s concerned others will think the only reason they’re getting married is because she’s pregnant (they wouldn’t necessarily be right, but they aren’t necessarily wrong either). 

However, she agrees, but only with the added contingency that he’ll have sex with her while she’s still a human and that he will, of course, turn her very shortly after.  This sets Cullen into a panic—he thinks it would be far too easy for him to lose control and accidentally kill her while they’re being intimate.  He expresses these concerns, only to see Bella brush them off (research indicates some call this avid faith in his restraint.  I call it stupidity).  Finally, he adds one final amendment—they must be married before they sleep together, and then he will turn her after.  Alas, he’s a real gentleman…who could quite possibly kill you during sex. 

            Some would probably call this compromise.  I would counter that it’s a series of compromising beliefs, on both their parts.  Bella detests the idea of marriage, but agrees to do it in the hopes that it’ll guilt him into turning her.  Cullen isn’t innocent here either—he mentions marriage, knowing it is something she’s not necessarily for, in the hopes that it’ll rattle her enough to get her to change her mind on the issue entirely.  They’re both playing a dangerous game here, one, in my opinion, they both lose.  They try to find an arrangement to make them both happy and, in the process, don’t really make either one happy.  Personally, I believe, one day, post the bizarre pregnancy and blood gushing hysterics of Breaking Dawn, they’ll stumble themselves into a Spike and Dru caliber break-up.  Or, perhaps, I just wish for it.  And, maybe for Buffy to come along and stake the lot of them. 

From Bella to Katniss:  Is Bella a good role model?  The events that follow the above agreement don’t necessarily help or hurt Bella.  At this point, my approval rating is averaging a 0/10 for Swan, so it would take something pretty exceptional to bring it back.  That being said, it would also take something pretty exceptional to lower it any further.  Their marriage and honeymoon, and the possible consequences, were all covered in enough detail in New Moon to satisfy me; I could’ve done without Eclipse and Breaking Dawn entirely—in fact, I read no more than two hundred pages of Breaking Dawn before I finally caved and refused to go any further—right around the time Jacob imprinted I had enough.  That being said, Bella’s portrayal up to that point was abysmal when it comes to serving as a good role model for a young adult audience—certainly appalling enough to yield proper evidence for her role model rating.  She encourages girls to obsess over their significant others, inspiring them to build their life around that person, disregarding the importance of any others.  She spurs on the belief that, to be in love, you must be willing to place your life on the line for it to be true—going so far as to risk her life repeatedly just to hear Cullen’s voice.  There’s also this sense of the submissive about Bella that bothers me.  There is no denying that Cullen wears the pants in this relationship—his mentioning of the marriage is just one example of his capacity for manipulation.  This is made worse by the fact that there are very few things Cullen suggests that Swan doesn’t instantly agree to.  In short, as I said above, she actively works to unravel any form of positive influence Granger has had on society.  One critic worded this nicely, claiming that Swan gets what she wants and discovers her worth “by giving up her identity and throwing away nearly everything in life that matters.”  As an alternative, there was a critic for Entertainment Weekly who said we “may wish she had loftier goals and a mind of her own, but these are fairy tales, and as a steadfast lover in the Disney Princess mold, Bella has a certain saccharine appeal.”  I hate to break this, but these are not fairy tales—millions of girls have read these words and followed these examples; I don’t, therefore, think it is too high of a demand to request a heroine in possession of, at the very least a brain.  And, last I checked, even Disney Princesses could survive without a Prince.  Bella could use a little Merida in her life, really.

Role Model Rating:  0/10

From Lorelai to Wonder Woman:  Is Bella relatable?  As much as it physically pains me to admit this, I’ve met a disgusting number of women who seem to build their lives around similar ambitions to Bella.  No, they do not all wish to be turned into vampires—although a surprising number of them actually do.  They do, however, wish for nothing more than a husband.  In the incredibly wide-open world we are privileged to live in today, any woman who’s sole hope in life is to find a husband is, at the very least, unimaginative.  These are the same women who, when you ask them what they do for a living, will respond along the lines of “I’m an executive.  For now.”  At first I would make the mistake of asking if the job was temporary, only to discover these women only intended to work until they got married.  My flustered stuttering in response, while undeniably amusing to anyone who may have witnessed it, was a pure reaction to my utter shock upon first hearing this.  My mother, for all of her faults, is a hard worker.  It had never occurred to me that you could just stop working because you’d found your ball-and-chain.  The very thought of it seemed preposterous—what on earth would you do all day?  Alas, I’ve had this conversation several times in my life, and it only seems to become more common as I grow older.  This would appear to assign a certain level of relatability to Swan, as, while she may not be enthused at the thought of marriage, she seems adamant on latching herself to Cullen for all of eternity.  Meyer has also described her as a bit of an everyday girl, average—nothing too exceptional in any category.  However, several critics made a point of mentioning her conversion to a vampire removed any power of relatability the character may have previously held.  From the little that I read of the process before dropping the book entirely, I would have to say I agree.  There is also a characteristic of desperation about Bella that seems just a touch out of our reach; some may relate to her need to have a man by her side, but even she undeniably takes clingy to new levels. 

Relatability Rating:  2/10