My sister sent me the following e-mail review of Twilight, the phenomenally popular first novel in the series by Stephenie Meyer:
Twilight is a book about what to say to your girlfriend when you want to feel powerful. Presuming she’s already weak, you’ll have the upper hand even more than you already did in just a few simple steps.
That’s right, I read it, and it’s a book about how girls are clumsy, stupid, irrational, emotional, witless, and cannot be explained. Even silly by vampire standards. I had a hard time reading the beginning, but I plugged along for the sake of pop culture – and then came the L word. That’s right – he’s about 100 years-old technically, trapped inside the most beautiful teenage body ever, and she truly IS a teenager. And they fall in LOVE. Sweet, pathetic, dry-humping love. Oh God forgive me for wasting the time I wasted on this book. Forgive all the teenage girls who are swooning over their boyfriends who push them around “for love” and “safety.”