Written by Michael Claxton
At an antique show about two years ago, I saw one of the strangest relics I had ever come across. It was a 19th century vampire-killing kit. This wooden mahogany box featured specially designed compartments containing all the stuff you need if a coven of bloodthirsty pests moves into your crawlspace. There were vials of garlic, a crucifix, a silver bullet, a Bible, several wooden stakes and other things vamps are allegedly allergic to. But at the price of $15,000 for this dusty antique pest control set, I thought it would be cheaper just to call the Orkin Man. Or Ghostbusters.
I have vivid memories of reading the Bram Stoker novel “Dracula” for the first time about 15 years ago. I was taking a trip with my parents from Georgia to Michigan, riding in my father’s van that had no back seat. While I suspect that it is neither legal nor safe to put a Lazy-Boy chair in the back of a van for cross-country outings, I must confess that it is one way to travel in style. So there I was, a junior in college, on a four-day trip, propped up in a plush chair reading “Dracula”between stops. Even though it was written in 1897 (which, I understand, technically predates “back in the day”), the granddaddy of all vampire novels is still one scary read. I loved it.
Which is why I was in no hurry to jump on the “Twilight”bandwagon. The idea of Romeo-and-Juliet-meet-Transylvania just didn’t get my heart pumping. But when I stumbled across the film version of the first “Twilight”novel on cable TV a few months ago, I figured that I should at least know something about uber-author Stephenie Meyer. For those who have not yet been bitten in the neck by this pop culture megatrend, let me give you a quick storyline.
These two kids in Washington State meet in biology class over an open Petri dish. There’s nothing like formaldehyde to get the hormones going, and Bella and Edward are soon inseparable. She’s a moody 17-year-old junior from Phoenix; he’s a veteran—of World War I, mind you—who’s been undead since Count Chocula gave him a hickey at Gallipoli. While she lives with her father, he lives with the Addams Family, a group of not-quite-vegan-vamps who drink only animal blood. While of course their preferred diet is O positive, they practice self-discipline and try not to munch on the neighbors.
As much as Edward struggles with the impulse to turn Bella into a plasma milkshake, he resists the temptation. He’s just that kind of guy. Of course, this means that Christian teens everywhere have already suffered through endless devotional talks using “Twilight” to illustrate the concept of self-control. Bless their hearts.
Anyway, once Isabella figures out that her pale, cold-skinned boyfriend is a vampire (Bella meets Bela… Lugosi, that is), she is eager to meet his family. They have her over for salad with platelet dressing and take her out for a game of baseball in the rain. And just when you think you’re in a Drew Barrymore film, trouble arrives in the form of three vampires from the other side of the tracks. These guys have not been taught good manners and have clearly failed the sexual harassment training at their day jobs.
While Edward manages to dispatch one villain, the others escape, hurrying off to sign contracts for the sequel. The first installment ends with Bella asking Eddie to nibble her neck so she can become immortal and live with him forever. But he just wants to be friends.
Since I have not seen the next two installments, now you know everything I know about “Twilight,” which has replaced “Harry Potter”as the must-read literary sensation of the decade. Given this trend of supernatural mega-fiction, I’m going to get started soon on my novel series about a family of hydras who move into downtown Cleveland. Their angst-filled daughter soon finds a boyfriend and starts dating him and all his siblings. My working title is “Seven Heads for Seven Brothers,” but I’m open to suggestions.
Michael Claxton is a guest contributer for the Bison. He may be contacted atmclaxto1@harding.edu
