**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
