Twilight

A couple of Twilight fans live in the Wandering Gentile household. Twilight has moved in like a particularly destitute and unimaginative relative. What joy.


For the eight or so people who are unaware of Twilight, it is the first novel in a series of vampire-themed romance novels aimed at 13-year-old girls of all ages and genders. Author Stephanie Meyer’s prose does not inspire like Hemingway or humanize like Steinbeck.



The plot developments are awkward. One waits, probably not in vain, for the inevitable appearance of an evil twin, a fatal illness, and weddings at prescribed intervals. At least Dark Shadows, a vampire-themed soap opera from the 1960s, was funny.



But for as much as can be said for what the books get wrong, Stephanie Meyer has gotten something very right. A number of females are bringing books into the house because they love Edward and Bella. Nothing that instills a love of reading can be a bad thing.



Eventually the audience may overlap into better storytellers. But for now, at least the storytellers have a path to people who might have chosen another hour with Randy Jackson calling some evil-haired singer “Dawg.”



As a spoiler-free gift to those who are not fans of Twilight, your Wandering Gentile offers a bit of realism for a few scenes from the book and the movie.



FORKS, WASHINGTON??? What better way to avoid questions about diversity than to set a book in a place that has 110 black people and 13 Latinos? There are more diverse Klan rallies in Georgia. A really cool black vampire, not just the token dude with the dreads in back, could be off the chain.



Maybe somebody could go to Seattle and bring back a Jimi Hendrix-like rockin’ undead. Being that Jimi was from Seattle, that would be pretty cool.



THAT F’COCKTA TRUCK! That’s right, a 1960s pickup is obviously the first choice of vehicle a law-enforcement officer wants his novice-driver teenage daughter tooling around in.



Her mother doesn’t say squat about a vehicle with a great big engine, tiny brakes, sloppy steering and NO SEAT BELTS! Let’s not forget about the physics of a vehicle with a lightly loaded rear end and the perpetual rain in western Washington State.



Don’t forget the reaction of every kid who got a seat belt citation from her dad, either.



If Kurt Cobain, from nearby Aberdeen, had owned this POS, he wouldn’t have lived long enough for the shotgun.



EDWARD! What is he, 108 years old? Why is he still in high school? After a while, wouldn’t he get bored and go looking for cougars or something?



For that matter, wouldn’t somebody at the State Board of Education in Olympia get a bit curious about a 108-year-old high school student? Three words come to mind…MASSIVE IDENTITY FRAUD!



If I’m 108, but I have the body (and presumably the libido) of a 17-year-old, the last thing I want to do is hang out at a high school in flippin’ Podunk!



I want to hang out where there are a lot more hotties. And I could be very inconspicuous in New York or Los Angeles.



Then there’s the whole issue where Edward punches out a minivan which is about to turn Bella into a tortilla.



One imagines a couple of hillbillies.



“Hey, Dwayne! I bet he can’t stop a Camaro!”



Stephen King still has my vote in the Vampire campaign. Shape Change you can believe in!