I’m going on record to say that I’m one of the millions of men who doesn’t get ‘Twilight’. And before the ladies stand up to defend the literary phenomenon, let me just say that I haven’t, nor do I plan to, read the series. No ma’ams, I choose to remain blissfully ignorant of Stephanie Meyer’s brilliant, sparkling, teen-heartthrob, vampire romance.
For those guys out there whose spouse or significant other is circling these books on their ‘to read’ list — STOP THEM! She will spend the next several weeks in an Edward/Jacob-infatuated coma induced by reading these works into the wee witching hours of the morning. Don’t think that it will stop with the first book, either. It won’t. The combined series is as thick as the Encyclopedia Brittanica volumes A through M, so if you thought you felt alone during the first book, get used to it.
And whatever you do, don’t encourage them to see the movies as a way to get their ‘Twilight’ fix in a shorter span of time. They may just suggest you see it with them. It will be their way to entice you into accepting all things ‘Twilight’ and thus condone their further indulgence in this franchise. If you should happen to catch a viewing of either film, seek immediate treatment by watching a good western shoot ’em up or tune in to Spike.
Beware, men, these vampires are nearly impossible to kill, so if she gets bitten you can forget about the stakes, crucifixes and garlic. Just accept the fact that you’ve been bested by a blood-loving romantic by the name of Edward Cullen.