Hey. I'm amazed you've stopped to take a peak! I'm sorry to say that my blog is full of negative, atrociously positive, philosophical, or otherwise stupid posts concerning my thoughts, feelings, and every day life. But what the hell! If you think it's great, then I think you're great. Got it?
Mar 23, 2012
Who else smells Rivalry?
I'm not a die hard fan of Twilight. I respect the books, because they were the things that kept me from having a suckish sixth grade year. Although I can't seem to understand why people swarm all over the repetitive, dissatisfying romance between Bella and Edward, I can understand why most would believe the story aside from the occult worshiping and supernatural elements.
Their relationship, thanks to the movie, is slightly awkward and mysterious. There are mood swings that send weird vibes to both the main characters and the audiences who watch with horny feelings in their pants. Bella herself is unsure and suffering from teenage hormones, making her believe she has to marry him right away just so she can have that little thing called "sex".
Edward (book wise) is trying not to be the woman and separate his manly time and his relationship but failing when his taunting need to pervishly watch her while she sleeps settles in. Thus creating a sense of realism concerning psycho feelings in an every day teenager, written oddly by a married Mormon woman. Who would have thought?
The Hunger Games, in all its grandeur, is much more wild and enticing, but concerns the same basic elements that Twilight so blatantly shares with the world. Suzanne Collins manages to write it down better and express it in a more interesting and catching sense. She has symbolism and connections that make a bigger difference in the literary world than thesaurus-using Stephanie Meyer did.
Katniss finds herself in a love triangle, being the attractive main heroine who conquers all and bad-asses everyone to hell. The two books were written by two older women with the same need to make their characters suffer from romantic twists when the characters should be focusing on more important things, especially in Katniss's case. Katniss is also a teenager, which then throws her in with Bella and their wild girl hormones.
The major differences (and with Hunger Games, there is a lot) are that Katniss has a drive and motivation to protect and care for not only her little sister, but her seemingly comatose mother who can't function correctly from the loss of her father-figure. Bella cares about Charlie, her father, but you don't see Bella striving to protect the man. He just goes fishing and Bella screams like a girl while a vampire chases her.
What both these books have in common, however, is the fact that both are extremely popular with the masses and connect personally with teenage girls of this generation. I will proudly say that I will pee my pants if I have to wait past Sunday to see the Hunger Games. I loved the books dearly.
J.K. Rowling comes in now, with her own writing style, basically what seems to be her own freaking genre of awesome, and her main character (who I want to specifically point out is a Y-chromosome, which makes the whole perspective of the book a little bit more rounded and... ungirly).
In a short summary, Harry Potter goes through seven years of challenge without romance distracting him from his goal, and then finally conquers his all-time foe in a hardcore battle of revenge and hope. Note how I mentioned there was no romance to distract him with. There is romance, I dare say, but certainly not enough to make you roll over and throw the book at the wall. If Rowling did that, then her fans would not be fans.
We're all about finding out what Horcrux old man Dumbledore found rather than if Ginny tries to get into Harry's pants.
There's a great deal of diversity, not in the sense of race though. I meant in age and body type, like during the Hellenistic period, when the stuck-up classical Greeks finally decided to stop being one-minded and open to old, young, ugly, beautiful, wild, and calm, instead of just young, calm, beautiful. In Harry Potter, you had the idolized Dumbledore, stooped and old but greatly admired. Then there were the waddling goblins with pinched cheeks and beady eyes, and the ugly witches, and the handsome seven-years, and the "only a baby" first years, and the stereotypical mother-looking professors and the hippies that predict the future. It's all so spread far and wide, whereas when I read Twilight and the Hunger Games, being a white girl striving to live with an open mind, I pictured (admittedly) only white people unless written otherwise.
That's probably why I like fantasy so much. Not the main reason, but a good aspect of it.
I'm now going to crush your hopeful (or hopeless) ideas of my loving Harry Potter by saying I'm not obsessed with it and that I don't feel it as strongly as I felt other movies and books. Though I might add, I cried when I realized all seven movies had come to a close and it was no longer. (But that's beside the point.) I don't (and won't) choose between those three movies/books because none of them come even close to touching that little ventricle in my heart reserved for the real favorites. (Those real favorites I might get into one day, but not today, in concern of saving other blog-post ideas when I don't have an issue I need to talk about.) Personally, the movies for Twilight are closer to touching the rotten, sinister chamber reserved for hated things than my even normal ventricles for normal entertainment. It's just a fact that since everyone loves it I gotta hate it. (Yes, I know, everyone else who hates Twilight thinks in that same exact line of thought, except for my dear Almond, who just flat out hates Stephanie Meyer and her writing.)
This is when I begin my long and boring preach about the simple, yet completely emotionally complex story plot about original folklore paranomalty and super freaking hot guys fighting evil. Cue Supernatural and its awesomeness.