Behold My Schoolwork

I've only just arrived home from a very long brunch with my mother and my favorite teacher (and also my younger sister and my teacher's daughter, but they weren't participating in the conversation). At this meal, we discussed (among other things) an essay I wrote for this teacher recently comparing Stephen King to Stephenie Meyer. She asked me to post this essay on my blog, and I, being an obedient sort of a student, am complying.


So here it is, my essay comparing two writers who have almost no similarities to each other..... to each other. Feedback is as welcome as always.

King and Meyer: Sparkles and Crucifixes

 

            In April of 1974, a book called Carrie, penned by a then-unknown novelist named Stephen King, began appearing on bookshelves. Although no one knew it at the time, this horror story was to mark the beginning of an expansive career, covering multiple subjects: aliens and clowns, demonic animals and dystopias, telekinesis and contagion, time travel and possessed buildings and those serving prison sentences for crimes they did not commit. Ultimately, Stephen King would become the most successful American writer in history, at least in terms of sales.  

            Just a few months before Carrie’s publication, a little girl was born who, thirty years later, would become a highly successful American supernatural novelist as well. A King parallel can even be found in her name: Stephenie Morgan, later Stephenie Meyer, named after her father Stephen.

            There are many people in this world who would adamantly insist that the similarities stop there. In fact, there are probably some people around who would be horrified at the mere thought of any comparison being made between these two authors; for while Stephen King is generally hailed as an unapproachable master of his art form, the populace is far more divided on Meyer. Certainly Stephenie has contributed less to the world of fiction than Stephen, having composed only two stories, and those arguably in a rather similar vein; but then again, King is three decades older and three decades more prolific. In short, if one wanted to risk the wrath of Stephen King’s fandom by comparing these two writers, it would probably be best to compare Meyer’s more famous composition, the vampire-and-werewolf populated romance drama that is the Twilight Saga, to King’s second published novel, an eerie tale of vampire terrorization called ‘Salem’s Lot.

            ‘Salem’s Lot paints a strange portrait of dual disturbance: first, a distressing image of extreme darkness and cruelty lurking behind the picturesque quaintness of a small town is created. Second, the vampires are introduced as dark embodiments of a pure and ancient evil that finds itself nearly unchallenged in this ethical black hole. For several nights (vampires sleep through the day, possibly because exposure to sunlight leaves them burning, boiling, writhing, and displaying other such signs of indescribable and unforgettable agony) the vampires walk free, gleefully transforming immorality into immortality through their uncontrollable thirst for blood. Every time a person is sucked to death, the corpse beautifies, reawakening hours later red-eyed, soulless, and desperate for a drink.

            Twilight, despite also taking place in a small town, paints a vastly different picture. Here, vampires are depicted less as hell-bound demons and more as misunderstood almost-humans. While the existence of crazed, murderous, and eternally thirsty vampires is acknowledged and even occasionally turned into a minor plot point, the saga’s main focus is the development of a romance between an intelligent, piano-playing vampire and a listless human girl. The product of a broken home, she seems lost and unsure of herself until she finally finds her forever home and purpose in the arms of her cold and pale other half. Her ultimate transformation into a vampire, and in fact every human-to-vampire transformation described in the series, is accomplished by means of a single venomous bite rather than the draining of her blood. Those few unfortunate humans drunk dry by the unsavory vampires mentioned in the series just stay completely dead. Also, unlike their Kingly counterparts, Meyer’s vamps can and do happily expose themselves to direct sunlight, which does nothing more harmful than reflect off their skin in blinding sparkles. These sun-kissed creatures are described as resembling diamonds or disco balls, made even more beautiful than they were to begin with by the white rays.

            Even the method of killing the beasts differs between interpretations. Like those of his most famous predecessor, Bram Stoker, King’s vampires have to have ash stakes hammered into their hearts and right proper beheadings performed on them before they will officially cease to exist. The youngest vampires, the ones who have not been undead long enough for their bodies to decompose immediately, have to have their mouths stuffed with garlic and their bodies left submerged in running water as extra precautions. Meyer’s creations, on the other hand, are torn limb from limb and incinerated.

            So which version of vampire lore is better?  

            Well, all the dissimilarities would make naming the “better” story a difficult, even impossible task; and even if it could be firmly decided which storyline was “better”, the fact that the two tales are marketed to two very distinct demographics would ensure the constant debate of the verdict. If one wanted to select the more skilled author in this case, it would certainly be more fruitful to consider the writing styles than the actual content.

            Using the most commonly accepted tenants for judging compositions, this distinction would go to Stephen King. King displays an extensive vocabulary, commendable plot-weaving and reasonably well-paced suspense, in addition to a few examples of truly masterful descriptive writing. Meyer’s literature is much more plot-driven, tending to move along at a good clip with little to no descriptive or atmosphere-building detours. This, of course, is a perfectly acceptable writing method, and it can pull readers in and keep them turning pages in a way that Stephen King’s meatier contributions might not. However, the majority of professional literary critics and connoisseurs seem to prefer meatier writing when it is done well, possibly because it is all too easy to compose thought-and-description heavy writing poorly, or because a clear focus on description and atmosphere can lead to a more complete and involved reading experience.

            But beyond story and composition comes another method of judging literature; which story commutes more to its reader? Which tale leaves a reader wiser, more reformed, and more affected? Perhaps it could be argued that this consideration should be left out of a comparison between these two stories, as neither was in any way intended to be any sort of educational or moralistic experience. Still, many scholars would say that no matter the intention of the book, every literary effort should include something of substance to make the time spent reading it worthwhile.

            If anything, ‘Salem’s Lot is a cautionary tale about the wages of sin. Dark, disturbed, and unpleasant characters are left more vulnerable to the advances of the vampires through their sick desires and uncontrollable passions. For example, alcoholism and dwindling faith leave the town’s only Catholic priest, who rightfully should be the staunchest and most triumphant warrior in the fight against the devil’s creatures, incapable of defending himself. The story lacks light. Readers back away from their books with furrowed brows, saying to themselves, “I’ll never act like them, lest something like this happen to me.”

            Twilight is quite the opposite in its portrayal of the human condition. Its message is one of the powers of love, an emotion so strong it can even be felt by those previously believed to be the heartless haunters of dark places. There are dark moments sprinkled throughout the books, like the merciless killing of a newborn vampire conducted by a brutal organization whose purpose is to keep mortals from learning of the existence of the fanged creatures, that remind readers what the story is about, but at its center Twilight is at least attempting to be a tale of absolution and redemption through the healing force of literally undying devotion.

            In spite of this, many critics have accused Twilight of sending an unsavory message to its teenaged female readers. Twilight, they say, subliminally (or perhaps not-so-subliminally) tells girls that they need to have boyfriends to be happy while simultaneously painting a portrait of a boy too handsome and devoted to have a real-life equivalent, thus raising girls’ expectations unattainably high and then making them feel depressed and inferior when they fail to come in contact with anyone who meets said expectations. Other readers have expressed discomfort at the almost abusive nature of the main relationship; after all, the main character, Bella, does not spend the entire series wholly devoted to her blood-sustained sweetheart, Edward. Occasionally, she begins to feel uncomfortable with the idea of Edward’s more vicious nature, but whenever she ventures to question or challenge him, he dodges her questions and fixes his hypnotic eyes on her, leaving her so charmed that she forgets her disquiet. While fans of the book could argue that Twilight is a heartwarming tale of a monster gaining humanity, those who dislike the story could just as easily argue that it is a disturbing depiction of an impressionable girl having her individualism and free will sucked away (pun intended).

            When viewed with uncompromising criticism, neither one of these stories is truly worthy of being called a classic or even of enduring for more than a few years. Neither one contains composition, storytelling, or social commentary of unparalleled excellence. These are books made for light reading. Twilight and its sequels are the sorts of books brought to warm beaches or isolated window seats and perused in the warmth of a drowsy afternoon or the cool of a rain-soaked one. ‘Salem’s Lot was written to be read late at night, crafted to be fleetingly horrifying in the long hours before sunrise heralds the return of monotonous normalcy. They are the books of a moment.

            And yet they remain.

            Perhaps that is where these books are essentially the same. Perhaps that is where these authors proved themselves deserving of recognition. The Twilight series and the various literary contributions of Stephen King are outwardly ordinary, each one noticeably similar to dozens of other books published prior to and since it. But for whatever reason, King and Meyer caught on, and their manuscripts became cultural phenomena that will very likely be read one day by bored high school students studying the literary trends of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries. At the end of the day, it hardly matters which one is better written or more imaginative or less morally sound; these books are the same in that they, in spite of whatever shortcomings they have, struck cords with their intended audiences that will keep reverberating loudly throughout the coming decades and beyond.  

~Pearl Clayton