I finally got around to watching Twilight recently and, as a result, fear for a generation of impressionable, young and deluded women.
Wherever Robert Pattinson, who plays the enigmatic teen vampire Edward in the blockbuster book and movie franchise, goes these days he is swamped by hysterical young girls who appear headed down a rough old romantic road. And now I know why.
You see, Edward is the template of everything I, and so many women like me, tend to go for in a man which, despite the wisdom of age, several broken relationships and all good intentions, remains best described in one word: unattainable.
The lust equation with such men seems to run like this: take handsome, brooding, edgy, dark outsider. Discover he is a blood-sucking dead man whose drive to kill conflicts with his ability to love. Add it all up and the result is obsessive, swooning, all-consuming desire.
OK, so not every man we mortal women fall for actually drain our blood. But hell, a lot can drain our energy or, worse, self-esteem. Yet it is this very factor, the dark inner core of the inaccessible man, which seems to drive us blindly towards them. The less we can have them the more we want them.
In Bella’s case in Twilight, she wants Edward so much she is willing to become the un-dead like him to achieve it. Not an ideal decision but hey, she’s got it easy in a way - let him drink her blood or don’t.
For most women I know attracted to unattainable men, the challenge is so much greater – they actually strive to attract then change their prey. Now, there’s a short cut to emotional hell, with stops at frustration, misery and hopelessness along the way. In my own experience, a neck puncture and dropping a few kgs in A+ seems the far better option.
Like Miranda in that great episode of Sex and the City where she gets a grasp on the premise of “he’s just not that into you”, part of me wants to scream at young women leaving the cinemas with longing for the tall, dark and downright demonic in their hearts that such types will never make them truly happy, that they will always involve a compromise too great, that Edward types are not romantic role models, just a heart full of trouble.
Yet, I also understand that such desire must be biologically fuelled, a case of nature over nurture and, as such, a rite of passage for otherwise well-adjusted young females. Our fathers, supposedly the romantic ideal for women according to generations of shrinks, generally aren’t detached or non-committal. Our soul mates, the fathers of our own children, are usually identified on a basis of communication, trust and companionship, not the eternal quest to chip at an impenetrable exterior in hope of discovering a soft centre that may not actually exist.
Nope, it appears the allure of the bastard is part of a woman’s hard drive and not the software unfortunately. Just the mystery of the vampire continues to sell tickets, the brooding, unattainable and unavailable guy will continue to topple women’s emotional wickets.
I, for one, hope I have learnt my lesson and now know better. Then again, I just bought the DVD set of the first series of True Blood so there’s a good chance I, too, could well be sucked in again.
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