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Twilight: Journey Into the Abyss (Part Seventeen)

Chapter Eleven (continued)

Come again?: “[Mike] grinned. Sometimes it was so easy to like Mike.”

Who is Mike again?

More gym class antics: “I somehow managed to hit myself in the head with my racket and clip Mike's shoulder on the same swing.”

Seriously, no one aside from a person with a legitimate physical handicap should be this clumsy.  It’s very worrying.

I know Steph was probably trying to be all “good writer like” and stuff, but I feel she perhaps went a bit overboard with this clumsiness trait. 

The extent of her abilities: “‘You and Cullen, huh?’ Mike asked...

‘That's none of your business, Mike,’ I warned, internally cursing Jessica straight to the fiery pits of Hades.”

You’ll have to excuse me, but it’s kind of easy to lose track of these things in a book like Twilight. 

Has she gained the ability to actually do this yet?  I can’t remember.

Both Edward and Bella seem to sprout new powers about every other page, so for all I know poor unmemorable Jessica might actually be in for a very unpleasant journey.

Bella buffet: "’[Edward] looks at you like... like you're something to eat,’ [Mike] continued, ignoring me.”

Honestly I can’t imagine that Bella has much to worry about.  Somehow I don’t see her as being a very tasty meal.

I picture her flavor as bitter and somehow slimy.

Also, unless Mike actually knows Edward is a vampire, and I was presuming I was supposed to think that Bella is the only one that actually knew that fact, despite the horrific obviousness of the truth, this is a sickeningly convenient line for him to choose. 

I guess I’m supposed to find the wordplay clever?  Or something?

It’s hard to know how Steph thought this choice of words was a good idea, really.

Like a bad comedy sketch: “I was wondering if Edward would be waiting, or if I should meet him at his car. What if his family was there? ... Did they know that I knew? Was I supposed to know that they knew that I knew, or not?”

For heaven’s sake, really?  You pulled out this old gag?  Yeesh.

You know, it occurs to me that if this story had been marketed as some sort of teen romance parody instead of a serious fictional endeavor I might have had to label it one of the greatest satirical works of all time.

Thank goodness they didn’t go that route, huh?

Foreign language: “Then I realized [the crowd of boys] weren't surrounding the Volvo, they were actually circled around Rosalie's red convertible, unmistakable lust in their eyes.

"Ostentatious," he muttered.

"What kind of car is that?" I asked.

"An M3."

"I don't speak Car and Driver."

Porsche 5 liter drive shaft cylinder Lambo convertible exhaust fifth gear alloy wheels.

I took “Car and Driver” as my language course in college.  I can speak enough to get by.

I don’t like to brag about it.

Give in to the senses: "’When we hunt,’ [Edward] spoke slowly, unwillingly, "we give ourselves over to our senses... govern less with our minds.”

Basically we go totally nuts and kill everything that moves.  It’s pretty simple, really.

Do you want to play a game?: “‘Oh, Bella?’ [Edward] called after me...


‘Tomorrow it's my turn.’

‘Your turn to what?’

He smiled wider, flashing his gleaming teeth. "Ask the questions."

What the hell kind of relationship is this?  It’s like a protracted game of truth or dare.  Aren’t people who love each other supposed to be all honest and truthful with each other and crap? 

This extended secrecy between the two of them really isn’t healthy.

It’s almost as if the author needed some sort of artificial plot device for withholding information until she thought the reader should know it but couldn’t come up with anything actually good....


Always dreamin’: “I pulled on my brown turtleneck and the inescapable jeans, sighing as I daydreamed of spaghetti straps and shorts.”

This girl really needs to get some better daydreams. 

Answer carefully: “‘So what did you do last night?’ I asked.

[Edward] chuckled. ‘Not a chance. It's my day to ask questions.’

‘Oh, that's right. What do you want to know?’

‘What's your favorite color?’ he asked, his face grave.”

Green.  No, blue!  Ahhhh!

And Bella went flying out of the window of the car and off into the distance for seemingly no reason.

Edward was puzzled.

More warning signs: As if we needed any more reasons to question the healthiness of Bella’s relationship with Edward, he’s now displaying signs of obsessive-compulsive disorder on top of everything else. 

Not only could he turn her into a vampire, not only is he far too controlling, but now he’s interrogating her for every insignificant detail of her boring little life to, I must assume, prepare himself for the role of disturbingly dedicated stalker if she should choose to dump him.

Worse, I’m having to read through this drivel.

Edward has been relentlessly questioning Bella all day at school about music taste, movie preferences, books she liked, even her favorite goddamn gemstone, and taking it all in like a fascinated little child looking at the exasperated face of his parent, who has been trying desperately to answer his endless string of inane questions.

I know I’ve said this before and I’m veering dangerously close to have this question lose its impact due to repetition, but seriously, what in the hell is wrong with this guy?

Continue to Part Eighteen


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