What this chapter should be called: I hate everything
Fucks I give: AAAAAARRRRGHHHH
Bella and Edward disregard their three-day old daughter to go have sex in their new cottage. Bye!
What do you mean, that’s not good enough?!?!
Ugh. So, Bella is feebly trying to protest any sort of birthday celebration, but she’s losing badly, in a sentence that defines all that is wrong with this book.
“No. No way!” I shook my head fiercely and then shot a glance at the smug smile on my seventeen-year-old husband’s face. “No, this doesn’t count. I stopped aging three days ago. I am eighteen forever.”
Bella is presented with two keys: one from Edward, which Bella assumes is to her “after” car, and one from Alice. They decide to go see Alice’s present first, which entails blindfolding Bella and leading her through the forest for a ways. Eventually, the blindfold is removed, and Bella is presented with a house.
“I stared into the violet dark. There, nestled into a small clearing in the forest, was a tiny stone cottage, lavender gray in the light of the stars. It belonged here so absolutely that it seemed as if it must have grown from the rock, a natural formation. Honeysuckle climbed up one wall like a lattice, winding all the way up and over the thick wooden shingles. Late summer roses bloomed in a handkerchief-sized garden under the dark, deep-set windows. There was a little path of flat stones, amethyst in the night, that led up to the quaint arched wooden door. I curled my hand around the key I held, shocked.”
Because it’s a Cullen house, it’s the most perfect, adjective-laden house in existence. (+1 Thesaurus Rape) Bella stares for a while before deciding that she luuuurves the little cottage. Satisfied by her response, Alice reminds Bella to try her new closet and wear pretty clothes for her man, because this book is already really sexist. (+1 Stupidity) Alice takes off.
“That was weird,” I said when the sound of her flight had vanished completely. “Am I really that bad? They didn’t have to stay away. Now I feel guilty. I didn’t even thank her right. We should go back, tell Esme—” “Bella, don’t be silly. No one thinks you’re that unreasonable.” “Then what—” “Alone time is their other gift. Alice was trying to be subtle about it.” “Oh.”
Wait a minute. Why does Bella need a house in Forks, WA, in the first place? I thought she was going to move to Alaska so that Chuck didn’t find out about vampires. This is a bit confusing. Why didn’t they give Bella a house in, like, North Dakota or something? Whatever. What the hell do I know, right? (+1 Stupidity)
Moving on. As soon as Alice is gone, Bella starts thinking with her vajayjay. She’s feeling all tingly in the nether regions and needs to get it on, right now. But not before a lengthy description of the perfect interior of this wonderful cottage, of course.
“The floor was a crazy quilt of smooth, flat stones. The low ceiling had long exposed beams that someone as tall as Jacob would surely knock his head on. The walls were warm wood in some places, stone mosaics in others. The beehive fireplace in the corner held the remains of a slow flickering fire. It was driftwood burning there—the low flames were blue and green from the salt. It was furnished in eclectic pieces, not one of them matching another, but harmonious just the same. One chair seemed vaguely medieval, while a low ottoman by the fire was more contemporary and the stocked bookshelf against the far window reminded me of movies set in Italy. Somehow each piece fit together with the others like a big three-dimensional puzzle. There were a few paintings on the walls that I recognized—some of my very favorites from the big house. Priceless originals, no doubt, but they seemed to belong here, too, like all the rest.”
Besides the blatant thesaurus rape (+1 Thesaurus Rape), I swear to God, Meyer, I told you in the very first book, driftwood fires aren’t green. Yeesh. This is like trying to have a conversation with a lamp. A very sexually repressed, thesaurus-addicted lamp, but a lamp nonetheless.
As they walk down the hall, Edward notes that it’s a good thing there’s an extra room for baby, and Bella makes some offhanded comment about her kid, the sea serpent. (Way to kill the mood, dumbass.) They go further down to their room, which is big and blue and perfect. Ed tells Bella to go check out the closet, just to appease Alice.
“We’re going to tell Alice that I ran right to the clothes,” I whispered, twisting my fingers into his hair and pulling my face closer to his. “We’re going to tell her I spent hours in there playing dress-up. We’re going to lie.” He caught up to my mood in an instant, or maybe he’d already been there, and he was just trying to let me fully appreciate my birthday present, like a gentleman.”
And then they fuck on the floor. A lot.
But since Alice can see the future, I’m not exactly sure how the aforementioned plan would work. Wouldn’t Alice know Bella didn’t look at the clothes and skipped straight to the sexing? Whatever. I’ll just stop thinking now, since my brain activity is apparently detrimental to the “logic” of this book. (+1 Stupidity)
Anyhoo, the sex scene is intense, at least for a Twilight book. There’s no graphic detail, but it seems like it was probably a wild, wild night.
“This second honeymoon wasn’t like our first. Our time on the island had been the epitome of my human life. The very best of it. I’d been so ready to string along my human time, just to hold on to what I had with him for a little while longer. Because the physical part wasn’t going to be the same ever again.”
The sex is magical and perfect, especially now that Bella doesn’t have to worry about serious injury via sparkly dick of doom. It feels better than Bella could have ever imagined. She wonders how they will ever stop, now that she doesn’t have to bother with petty mortal things like sleeping and pooping.
“A very, very small part of my head considered the interesting conundrum presented in this situation. I was never going to get tired, and neither was he. We didn’t have to catch our breath or rest or eat or even use the bathroom; we had no more mundane human needs.”
Well, actually, that’s not quite true. Vampires do need to eat, right? Bella should probably be out sucking animals dry instead of dancing the horizontal tango. I know Carl said that her superpower was gonna make things a bit easier for her, but surely after a night of lovin’, she’s gonna be a tad peckish. and then there’s the thing about going potty: what goes in must come out. Where is all that blood going? It’s gotta go somewhere, right? I mean, how else would Edward get it…well, up? (+1 Stupidity)
Whatever. Bella is oh-so happy that her special hugs are still good even now that she’s a vampire. all this time she’s been worrying that becoming a vampire would make it strange and cold. She was super wrong, huh? Now, not only does Bella have a new house, new cars, a new wardrobe, the man of her dreams, all the money in the world, super powers, immortality, and gorgeous good looks, but her special hugs feel divine. And she gets to live near her family. So what did she give up? What sacrifice did she offer in exchange for a perfect life? Well, she can’t sleep anymore or eat pie. I guess that sucks. This girl is just a regular martyr, isn’t she? (+1 Stupidity)
“It would be hard to find someone less sad than I am now. Impossible, I’d venture. Not many people get every single thing they want, plus all the things they didn’t think to ask for, in the same day.”
And I give you reason #3480120 why this book gargles hobo testicles. (+1 Stupidity)
I am so freakin’ sick of this shit. Like, you have no idea. Bella and Edward go into this whole conversation about how long the “horny” period lasts for newborn vampires with so much emotion that they could probably be discussing taxes or chess strategy or something. I have no idea how any of these characters feel. I don’t feel this “true love” that is supposedly going on right now. I’m not even mildly turned on from the sex scene. Everything is perfect and boring and emotionless. Maybe Meyer thinks that by sparing her readers pain and emotional trauma, she’s doing something right? WRONG. People like to be utterly destroyed and hurt beyond all belief. (Ask a Doctor Who fan.) Meyer’s dry, safe, painless writing is robbing her readers of the ability to actually enjoy her book.
Hell, Supernatural has had a better love story over the course of four seasons than Meyer has written in four books. But that’s a whole other can of worms that I’m not gonna waste time on.
But, yeah. They curl up on the floor and have some more sex because vampires are apparently very sexual beings. Boom. That’s it. Entire chapter, summarized in one sentence.
Meanwhile, miles away, the parentless Renesmee is most likely learning the hard way that electrical outlets taste bad.
Thesaurus Rape: +2
Thesaurus Rape: +28
Cream Count: +12
Eye Rape: +1
Red Flag: Edward: +12 Jacob: +7