In the second chapter of Midnight Sun, Stephenie Meyer slips into the absurd as we overhear more and more of Edward's psychotic and disturbing thoughts about the people around him. However, it's so bizarre that it seems as if this book will be nothing more than fanfiction, written by Meyer, about her own book and characters. Intrigued? Then it's time for Mark to read Midnight Sun.
CHAPTER 2: OPEN BOOK
Before I delve deep into this review in a more traditional sense, let me clear a few things up about how I feel about fanfiction.
First of all, I simply don't care enough about it to hate it or enjoy it or feel any sort of strong emotion. Fanfiction doesn't really provide me any sort of satisfaction or interest besides the lulz. And really, what else is it good for AMIRITE AMIRITE?
But my disinterest in fanfiction isn't a reflection about how I feel about people who read or write fanfiction. I recognize that it's most likely a wonderful way to work out character development, plot, and to practice writing before tackling something entirely of your own imagination. I don't like fanfiction and I've never read anything that I actually thought was good, but hey. It might happen.
The thing is, a lot of the Twilight series felt like I was reading fanfiction, in the sense that fanfic takes characters and essentially makes them act out scenarios that a person finds interesting, funny, or...sexual? (COME ON. THERE'S TONS OF SEX IN FANFICTION.) And while Meyer's characters were her own creation, it never quite felt real. I always felt that they were just vehicles for either Meyer's religion/morality or to simply have them do weird sex nonsense.
If that's the case, then Midnight Sun is a thousand times worse. I'm constantly shocked how much this writing sucks even more than the other four books and how much it doesn't even sound like Meyer, except for a momentary repetition of that one word we all hate so much. This book, so far, reads as if a fan simply took the Twilight story and wrote their version of it.
It's bad. So so so so bad. And you are not ready for this.
The sky above me was clear, brilliant with stars, glowing blue in some places, yellow in others. The stars created majestic, swirling shapes against the black universe— an awesome sight. Exquisitely beautiful.
Ok, wait. That is very Meyer-esque to make Edward speak like a walking thesaurus. Still WHY. WHY SHOULD I CARE ABOUT ANY OF THIS.
It wasn’t getting any better. Six days had passed, six days I’d hidden here in the empty Denali wilderness, but I was no closer to freedom than I had been since the first moment that I’d caught her scent.
Oh man, Edward. This is simply tragic. Poor you. God, it must so hard to be hanging out in one of the most beautiful national parks in all of North America and not having to pay a dime to get there. I relate to your predicament so much.
Abominably? Like the snowman? LOL LOL I AM FIVE YEARS OLD.
Ah, this is definitely Stephenie Meyer writing. Chagrined. Meaning "disquietude or distress of mind caused by humiliation, disappointment, or failure." Meaning you are a terrible writer stop using this word over and over again.
OMG EW please stop talking about my gender like this you are disgusting.
“Succubus,” I teased, hoping to interrupt the images flickering in her head. She grinned, flashing her teeth. “The original.” Unlike Carlisle, Tanya and her sisters had discovered their consciences slowly. In the end, it was their fondness for human men that turned the sisters against the slaughter. Now the men they loved...lived.
Wait a second. This hasn't been elaborated on, but Tanya admits she is a succubus?
Guys. A succubus seduces men in their dreams to have sex with them. Meaning that the man is asleep during the sexual intercourse.
Meaning, absolutely, that it is rape.
Oh god. Oh god. OH GOD.
No, for fuck's sake. Tanya and Edward think raping men in their sleep is FUCKING HILARIOUS. WHAT. THE. FUCK.
Look, there's a long story behind this that I have no interest in telling now because it will take 40 days and 40 nights to get through and it's pretty depressing, but I was...touched? Molested? I don't even know the proper word. Basically, someone I trusted touched me constantly while I was sleeping. And she was a female and she knew I was gay.
Do you know how incredibly violating that is? Do you know how you might feel upon discovering this?
You know what? The last thing it is is HILARIOUS. So Meyer please DIE IN A FIRE. Preferably A REALLY HOT ONE THAT CAUSES PAIN TO YOU AND ONLY YOU. And take ALL COPIES OF YOUR BOOK WITH YOU. Thanks.
But wait YES YOU HAVE. Also IT IS AN UNDERAGE GIRL. Also YOU ARE LIKE A HUNDRED YEARS OLD. Also WHY
My mouth twisted with chagrin. I didn’t like hurting Tanya, though her feelings were not deep, hardly pure, and, in any case, not something I could return. It still made me feel less than a gentleman.
Oh my god you just used that word. Stop it. Also YOU ARE NOT A GENTLEMAN AT ALL you are disgusting please die.
A normal girl would have asked around, compared her experience to others, looked for common ground that would explain my behavior so she didn’t feel singled out. Humans were constantly desperate to feel normal, to fit in. To blend in with everyone else around them, like a featureless flock of sheep. The need was particularly strong during the insecure adolescent years. This girl would be no exception to that rule.
I'm sorry but isn't the entire point of the first few chapters that you are desperate to feel normal and to fit in? LKSADJF;ALSFJ;ALSJFD THEY HYPOCRISY. IT BURNS.
“She’s coming in,” Alice murmured then. I felt my body go rigid. “Try to look human.”
“Human, you say?” Emmett asked.
He held up his right fist, twisting his fingers to reveal the snowball he’d saved in his palm. Of course it had not melted there. He’d squeezed it into a lumpy block of ice. He had his eyes on Jasper, but I saw the direction of his thoughts. So did Alice, of course. When he abruptly hurled the ice chunk at her, she flicked it away with a casual flutter of her fingers. The ice ricocheted across the length of the cafeteria, too fast to be visible to human eyes, and shattered with a sharp crack against the brick wall. The brick cracked, too.
The heads in that corner of the room all turned to stare at the pile of broken ice on the floor, and then swiveled to find the culprit. They didn’t look further than a few tables away. No one looked at us.
“Very human, Emmett,” Rosalie said scathingly. “Why don’t you punch through the wall while you’re at it?”
“It would look more impressive if you did it, baby.”
did i just read that
No, seriously, did I write this? Why am I not surprised that Emmett would use the word "bro"? This has to be fanfiction. There is no way it's not.
“Why push it, Edward?” Jasper asked. Though he didn’t want to feel smug that I was the one who was weak now, I could hear that he did, just a little. “Go home. Take it slow.”
“What’s the big deal?” Emmett disagreed. “Either he will or he won’t kill her. Might as well get it over with, either way.”
“I don’t want to move yet,” Rosalie complained. “I don’t want to start over. We’re almost out of high school, Emmett. Finally.”
What. No, guys, WHY ARE THEY EVEN IN HIGH SCHOOL IF THEY HATE IT SO MUCH. Wouldn't it make sense if they had jobs instead? THIS IS SO WEIRD AND BOGUS.
“No, Rose, I think it really will be okay,” Alice said. “It’s...firming up. I’m ninety-three percent sure that nothing bad will happen if he goes to class.”
93. 93%. Exactly. Really. Really. Really? Oh god.
So after retreading all of these boring plot lines I had to suffer through back in August, I finally reached a breaking point about halfway through the chapter.
“My name is Edward Cullen,” I said, though I knew she knew that. It was the polite way to begin. “I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan.”
She seemed confused—there was that little pucker between her eyes again. It took her half a second longer than it should have for her to respond.
“How do you know my name?” she demanded, and her voice shook just a little.
OH GOD YES LET'S RETELL A STORY WE ALREADY KNOW AND INCLUDE DETAILS WE ALREADY KNEW BECAUSE EDWARD ALREADY TOLD US WHY HE ACTED THE WAY HE DID DURING THIS SCENE IN THE VERY FIRST FUCKING BOOK OF THIS SERIES.
This surprised him. Today’s lab was something he’d pulled from a more advanced course. He nodded thoughtfully at the girl. “Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?”
“Yes.” She was advanced then, intelligent for a human. This did not surprise me.
Because GOD FORBID if she doesn't meet the intellectual level of someone who is 100 YEARS OLD and doesn't masturbate and have sex so he can READ BOOKS ALL NIGHT AND KNIT AND ORGANIZE HIS CDS. oh god why
“But now you’re unhappy,” I murmured. I couldn’t seem to stop speaking my hypotheses aloud, hoping to learn from her reactions. This one, however, did not seem as far off the mark.
“And?” she said, as if this was not even an aspect to be considered.
I continued to stare into her eyes, feeling that I’d finally gotten my first real glimpse into her soul. I saw in that one word where she ranked herself among her own priorities. Unlike most humans, her own needs were far down the list.
She was selfless.
HAHAHAHAHAHA THIS IS TRULY THE BEST COMEDY OF ALL TIME. You realize you're talking to the woman who will manipulate everyone around her to get what she wanted, right? HILARIOUS.
“You put on a good show.” I spoke slowly, still considering this next hypothesis. “But I’d be willing to bet that you’re suffering more than you let anyone see.”
She made a face, her eyes narrowing and her mouth twisting into a lopsided pout, and she looked back towards the front of the class. She didn’t like it when I guessed right. She wasn’t the average martyr—she didn’t want an audience to her pain.
“Am I wrong?” She flinched slightly, but otherwise pretended not to hear me. That made me smile. “I didn’t think so.”
I'm sorry but isn't there a teacher in this classroom trying to do his job? How on earth are they able to have this type of conversation out loud?
I know when it happened to me..., he reminisced, taking me back with him half a century, to a country lane at dusk, where a middle-aged women was taking her dried sheets down from a line strung between apple trees. The scent of apples hung heavy in the air—the harvest was over and the rejected fruits were scattered on the ground, the bruises in their skin leaking their fragrance out in thick clouds. A fresh-mowed field of hay was a background to that scent, a harmony. He walked up the lane, all but oblivious to the woman, on an errand for Rosalie. The sky was purple overhead, orange over the western trees. He would have continued up the meandering cart path and there would have been no reason to remember the evening, except that a sudden night breeze blew the white sheets out like sails and fanned the woman’s scent across Emmett’s face.
“Ah,” I groaned quietly. As if my own remembered thirst was not enough.
I know. I didn’t last half a second. I didn’t even think about resisting.
His memory became far too explicit for me to stand.
It's like this book is literally celebrating murderous, psychotic rage. what the fuck is happening
“Esta bien, Edward?” Senora Goff asked, startled by my sudden movement. I could see my face in her mind, and I knew that I looked far from well.
“Me perdona,” I muttered, as I darted for the door.
“Emmett—por favor, puedas tu ayuda a tu hermano?” she asked, gesturing helplessly toward me as I rushed out of the room.
“Sure,” I heard him say. And then he was right behind me.
There's nothing quite like a hyper-white Mormon writing a section of her book in which she uses Spanish. lol i am a dirty racist lol
I put a CD of violent music into the stereo, and then turned it up until it drowned out other voices. I had to concentrate on the music very hard to keep myself from drifting back to Mike Newton’s thoughts, to spy on the unsuspecting girl.
oh god please please PLEASE LET THIS BE LINKIN PARK. Violent music, oh man. I cannot stop laughing.
No. No. NO. BAD MEYER. BAD MEYER.
NO. NO. You do NOT use that word again. NO. NO. NO. Do you want me to rap you on your nose again? NO. NO. BAD MEYER. NO. NO. NO.
The thought of Bella Swan being dangerous to anyone, no matter what she was driving, had me laughing while the girl drove past me, staring straight ahead.