Feminism: a really cranky review
New Moon Chapters 1-3


My entire being wants me to stop reading "New Moon". It's a terrible book. It's remedially written, it's cliche, it's uninspiring, its only redeeming quality is that it's a quick read. And Bella, the heroine of the novel, is not brave or independent or anything girls should be taught to emulate, but a whiny little bitch with no reason to live. She is vapid, so very uncomfortably vapid, yet I can't put the book down.

But today I think I finally understand the science to her vapid-ness. In being neither beautiful nor particularly interesting, Bella tells us that simply having been born female, we are each divinely obligated to lasso some wild, obnoxiously handsome young males and make him our lover. This task we are set to perform, not with the power of our cleverness or our charm, but with the power of our standing around and our weakness and our stereotypicall emotional swings and, of course, our patiently awaiting the opportunity for him to rescue us. And once we've bagged our unsuspecting Adonis, the poor bastard, we worship him while he not-sincerely asks us to get off our knees.

It makes perfect sense. All this time I though the sheroes of books were supposed to be relatable and smart, or at least learn to be, when in fact the only fictional women we need to look at are the ones who feed the egos of men. And I can have everything Bella has, if only I follow her modest example. How could I have been so naive, trying to read between the lines? It's not like "New Moon" is literature or anything.