One thing I love about being on holidays is catching up on my reading, and I’m finally doing Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight, which I’m enjoying very much. The things that I’m liking most are (a) the atmosphere of the rainy peninsula town, (b) the clumsy lead character, and (c) the fact that the sexy vampire love interest drives a Volvo. I don’t know if this is some kind of mad irony–what with Volvo being widely considered as the safest car in the world–but I get a giggle every time that silver Volvo shows up because I used to drive one.
I have a feeling Bella is going to need more than SRS, ABS, and SIPS to save her (edited to add: I was right, and thank God she finally showed some spine and savvy in the last few chapters: saved the book). Sadly I sold the Volvo (or the Wolvo as we fondly called it) to my brother-in-law earlier this year and bought a distinctly undead-inappropriate Subaru Outback. Getting rid of the Volvo did, however, alleviate some of the problems we were having teaching my daughter the right word for a certain part of her anatomy.
I can certainly see why these books have been so popular, though they are not without their problems–both in execution and in ideology. But it is so very rare to just open a book, start reading, and not be tempted to put it down. That is an enormous skill in itself. Despite the glorious view over Queenstown that we have from our apartment, I have barely looked up all evening.