The Decline of Literature – Case Study: Twilight
by George A. Miu
The world is full of e-books, Kindles and good old-fashioned tomes; everywhere you turn, it seems the advertising realm is alight with means to improving one’s connection with the act of reading. Ironically, the quality of published literature is decreasing, and books no longer have the captivating power that propels societies and inspires generations.
Now that we got the incendiary, generic introduction out of the way, yours truly needs to silence Twilight fans. Okay. Twilight is not high-quality. It does not propel our society; it degrades it. It does not inspire generations. It deludes them. A morbid love-triangle between a vampire, a werewolf and a girl that is eerily reminiscent of the author’s own character is uninspired at best.
Do not call it fantasy. We don’t want JRR Tolkien rolling in his grave.
Do not call it gothic. Edgar Allan Poe is gonna need a drink from his next adventure if you do.
Do not call it a modern novel. Joyce Carol Oates might shift uncomfortably on the couch she’s inhabited for the past two decades.
Twilight has come to symbolize all of the things that we do not want to happen. It is a mere product of the hype machines that dominate our consciousness; it is aimed primarily at an audience too young or too uneducated to distinguish good literature from bad literature. Twilight, as a saga, is an incoherent cacophony of clichés, repeated ad absurdum. Oh – and don’t think I haven’t read the books, because I have (ashamed though I am of it). But if I ever hear anyone talk about Edward’s Adonis-like physique or tortured warm brown eyes … I’ll defecate a brick.
Back to literature, now. The problem we are facing these days is that we have no concrete, well-understood, systematic method of classifying today’s works, in terms of schools of literature. I mean – let’s face it. Modernism was great. Postmodernism was a little unoriginal, but interesting. Post-postmodernism is a joke. You’re telling me that the most talented minds in prose and poetry have not figured out a new major movement
since the late 19th century? All we get is offshoots. But you can’t feed absurdist pieces to the masses forever, unless you want anarchy to reign. And if it did, the anarchists would be the first to get eaten, anyway.
Oops – I digress yet again. This particular piece has no structure or continuity. Isn’t it annoying? If it is, then that’s because I wrote it in such way so as to reflect the sheer nonsense of post-postmodernism. If you are a literary critic, and happen to be reading this, tell your fellow well-read drinking buddies to get to work coming up with a movement that is not called post-post-postmodernism, and might actually provide a halfway decent guideline for the upcoming generations to abide by. If you are reading this and are not a literary critic (as is most likely), then go off and read some James Joyce or something. There’s nothing to see here in 2010.
