A coven of my own

THIS WEEK’S WINNER

Michi Ferreol is a Filipino scholar at the International School of Manila and is about to begin her junior year. Outside of class, she is an aspiring debater, softball player, hip-hop dancer, and journalist. Recently, she has been contemplating which majors she’d like to take for college. Juggling between courses related to law or medicine for some time, she has only lately realized that maybe writing is the path to take. If this essay is published, she’ll take it as a sign.

 Looking over the list for the latest, highest-grossing movies, I was less than surprised to discover that the Twilight saga’s Eclipse had topped Toy Story 3 for the No. 1 spot. Even though the latter had received a 99 percent rating from critics on Rotten Tomatoes, moviegoers just seemed to prefer pale faces to animated toys. 

There’s no need to ask why.

With hordes of teenage fans flocking to theaters to witness the love story of the decade (not to mention to indulge in steamy vampires and heart-throbbing werewolves), it is clear that the Twilight saga has enraptured millions. However, contrary to what some might believe, the success of the films Twilight, New Moon and Eclipse cannot be owed solely to the knee-weakening Robert Pattinson or Taylor Lautner. No. What makes these movies so lovable is not merely their more-than-good-looking cast. Rather, it is the ingenious writing of author Stephenie Meyer. Without Meyer’s enchanting novels, these films might as well have never existed. As the Middle School librarians at my school would put it: “Moving words inspire moving pictures.” 

More and more books have been made into movies — The Kite Runner, My Sister’s Keeper, The Time Traveler’s Wife, to name a few of my favorites — and only the greatest ever become box-office success. So, after watching Eclipse, a heightened curiosity compelled me to resume reading Breaking Dawn, the fourth and last book of the saga, which I had never finished. I was interested to see (what with all the hype already brewing for its upcoming film) whether the novel could live up to its name. Not surprisingly, it did.

It’s not that I fell for the natural charms of Edward Cullen or the unwavering dedication of Jacob Black, like many teens my age have. Instead, while reading Breaking Dawn, I found myself falling in love with the life and world that Bella Swan, someone much like me, seemed to find herself in. Any girl would pray for what Bella had — 24/7 protection in the form of vampire bodyguards, a warm-blooded werewolf as a loyal best friend, an amazing family of supernatural beings, and sure, throw in that absolutely perfect, indestructible boyfriend (and later husband) who would give up his life for you. 

Not a shabby deal. 

Though it’s true that many of these things don’t exactly exist in our oh-so-human world, one can’t help but envy Bella. Once transformed into a vampire herself by her one and only Edward, it seems that there is little she doesn’t have. A family that can make anyone ogle, a husband that can put Romeo to shame, and now, a beautiful body — Bella had everything. Once the epitome of clumsiness and the classic “damsel in distress” profile, Bella quickly becomes a powerful and skilled newborn. This virtual indestructibility, coupled with shiny new cars and an uncanny ability to control her thirst for blood, is topped by only one thing: the most unique and beautiful daughter in the world. Yes, Bella Cullen’s fairytale life is definitely one to be coveted.

Not that I’m complaining. The beauty of indulging myself in Bella’s wonderful (and at times, troublesome) life is that I simultaneously become grateful for the things I realize that I have in common with her. One of these things is a big and loving family. My own coven may not be as talented, as strong, or as likely to pull off mind-blowing fight moves, but I recognize the affection between the Cullen siblings and the way that the entire family looks out for each other, because I’ve experienced the same thing. 

I may also not have a best friend who can phase into a werewolf at command and growl at anybody who torments me, but I do have best friends who are as loyal and as true as Jacob is to Bella. Throughout the time I was reading Breaking Dawn, I didn’t realize that everything that ultimately saved Bella — amazing loved ones and the traditional TLC — was already all around me. So in case the Volturi come for me, I know I’m covered.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t personally wish to meet Aros, Caius, or Marcus, and most especially not Jane or Alec. But a little excitement every now and then, though probably a less… bloodthirsty kind, wouldn’t hurt. I was especially glad that we were introduced to a few more pale-faces in this fourth novel (it’s somewhat nice to know that even vampire friendships are international), and that we got to see some of them in action with their incredible talents. 

Because though we don’t often admit it, all of us would still like to believe that alternate worlds can exist. Worlds filled with vampires and werewolves or witches and wizards — ones that we can escape to when our a-little-too-boring world leaves us tired and guessing.

Despite this, Breaking Dawn doesn’t just paint a picture-perfect world to be desired and envied. With the Volturi hovering over one’s every move, we can even say that all of it comes at a price. Instead, Meyer uses this magical world to emphasize the importance of the most basic human qualities. In fact, I found that the human traits of Meyer’s extraordinary characters were their more striking and admirable aspects. Alice’s ability to see the future was scant in comparison to the positivity and cheerfulness she always seemed to radiate; Carlisle’s numerous vampire connections were insignificant against his sincere words and actions; Edward’s mind-reading mattered little in comparison to the undying love he showed Bella. 

These characteristics, even in our human world, are rare. We are reminded of their significance in the way they help the Cullens deal with their adversaries and brave the worst scenarios. 

But, most of all, Meyer reminds us that beyond the superhuman powers, beyond the unbelievable gifts, and beyond the colorful histories of the Cullen family, what distinguishes them from the rest are their unbreakable bonds and selfless togetherness. A novel that does this, even amid satisfying the desires of an obsessed teenage population, is definitely one-of-a-kind.

I’m not a vampire. I don’t have mind-reading abilities or miraculous strength, friends from Irish and Egyptian covens, or ineffable beauty. I still need to sleep, I still run relatively slowly, and my heart still beats. But I have an amazing family, wonderful friends, and my own skills and talents. And as the final chapter of Bella Swan’s story has taught me, that’s all I need.