You Say Misanthropy, I Say Misogyny. (Chapters 8 and 9)

A solid third of the way through the book, Meyer is finally getting to the big revelation. And I don't care. I writhe with ambivalence. Sheer willpower alone keeps me on task to crack this damn book open, let alone choke down the fetid prose. I approach each pair of chapters like an amateur pornographer in her first film, filled with trepidation, nausea and shame.

This would be a better story if Edward were Batman.

So take the time to mentally adjust your filters, as I have in order to preserve sanity, and tune out Kurt Hummel in favor of Batman, as made popular in the mid-nineties Batman: The Animated Series, which I was in love with when I was Twilight's target audience. All of Edward's dialogue will now be read by Kevin Conroy's dark and midnight voice.

Chapter 8 takes us shopping with Bella and some "girls", out of town. She ditches them in order to spend a wandering hour of meditation on her insane fascination with Edward while trying to find a bookstore. Instead she wanders into a rape gang. Or perhaps just some boys. One can't be too sure. Either way, Bella readies her purse to bust some heads when Edward's Volvothe Batmobile pulls a Tokyo drift and rescues her.

EdwardBatman is furious. So blinded by rage, he orders Bella to entertain him with inanities so his righteous indignation won't send him plowing down the quartet of wandering boys who showed interest in her. Finally, EdwardBatman forces his temper under control, and decides now is a good time to reveal his secret identity.

Okay, maybe Batman wouldn't do that. But for someone desperate to keep his vampirism a deep, dark secret, Edward drops the topic into Bella's lap like a freshly caught catfish and watches her squirm. Not only is he a bloodsucker, he can read minds, complain about how ironic it is that he can't read Bella's thoughts (lucky bastard) and drive recklessly over the speed limit.

That's the true crime in all this, that someone would be stuck as a whiny, insecure, hormonally imbalanced 17 year-old with psychic powers for all eternity.

I think the hipster vampirism is the cause for Edward's fascination with weak-willed women. He comes apart at the seams for the Victorian wilting flower act of Bella's, gratified and aroused by her dainty bound feetpropensity to faceplant. Bella expertly plays into this with a piece of sage wisdom she delivers about his patience.

“But you're not hungry now … I've noticed that people – men in particular – are crabbier when they're hungry.”

Because that's a conversation you want to start with someone who considers you a credible food source. "Oh, it's my fault he's crabby, I've haven't fed him. I'll just remove myself to the kitchen where I feel comfortable. Don't mind my small, womanly feet. They allow me to stand closer to the stove."

Loathe as I am to admit it, as a fan of romantic sequences and dramatic tension, I felt the singular pull of indulgent interest as Edward and Bella revealed their truths to each other, taking up solid and brave roles heretofore un-characterized in the book thus far. Thankfully, Chapter 9 closes as Bella returns home and reflects upon her conversation with a roundhouse to my feminist sensibilities.

“About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was part of him – and I didn't know how potent that part might be – that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.”

Oh, the battered woman's trifecta! Just swap out vampire for violent offender and you're set.

In closing, I would like to share a story one of my friends presented as his Facebook status today.

I'm an asshole? Ok so after small talk with the Taco Bell staff, a woman chimed in with, "My man punched me all over my FACE and broke my glasses." Another stranger added, "I hope he isn't a man anymore!" The woman, I swear to God said, "Nah, I'm still living with him." So I said, "Bet you'll have dinner ready tonight." as I received all kinds of dirty looks.