Posted tagged ‘Southern Vampire Mysteries’

Bella and Sookie, Edward Cullen, Bill Compton- The Lines Are Drawn

February 9, 2010

Read yesterday about the upcoming first run publication of 350,000 copies of the new Twilight graphic novel.  “The characters and settings are very close to what I was imagining while writing the series,” Stephanie Meyers, the author of the original Twilight series has said of the graphic novel.  (Does this mean that Ms. Meyers always pictured the characters and settings as cartoonish?)

Okay. Stop.  Guilty confession time.  As followers of this blog know, I wallowed in the Twlight series.  I have also, more recently, wallowed in another vampire series—The Southern Vampire Series by Charlaine Harris, also known as the Sookie Stackhouse Mysteries.

(What can I say?  I get tired, manic, depressed.)

Which brings up another question.  Why is the Twilight Saga (whose collective sales have now reached 45 million) so much more popular than the Southern Vampire Sookie Stackhouse Series?

(Don’t get me wrong.   Charlene Harris is unlikely to live in a garret.  Still, 45 million!)

What makes the difference especially remarkable is that the two series have enough in common to make a vampiric copyright lawyer lick his blood-stained chops.  Both focus on a human-vampire love story; both share telepathy, characters whose minds cannot be permeated by telepathy, super-handsome, super-sexy vampires (well, Edward Cullen is sexy in principal at least), shape-shifters/werewolves, love triangles,  heroinic (as in both addictive and held by the heroine) special blood, attempted suicide through sun-stepping, a ruthless vampire hierarchy, controlling and hyper-jealous male lovers, and fast, fancy cars.   Most importantly, both series have spawned commercially-successful screen versions.

So what makes for the phenomenon? (Other than the casting of Robsten.)

First, there’s the teen factor.  Perhaps (believe or not) tweens and teens simply read more.  After all, they have parents who tell them to turn off the TV and the internet, and they usually don’t have full time jobs.

Then there’s the identification factor.  Bella Swan, the Twilight heroine, is herself a teenager. (Sookie’s in her early twenties.)

More importantly, Bella is presented as Every Girl—Every Girl who is cute enough but clumsy, and who also happens to have some nearly magical qualities (not even known to herself) which, in turn, attract a consummately handsome, devoted, rich, strong, elegant, vampire; a vampire, who, although insistently male (at least he insists he’s male), loves her for her essence, not her body; a body which he adores,  but which he heroically resists (sigh), both to protect her soul and safety.

Sookie is harder to identify with.  She is very much not Every Girl, but a cocktail waitress specifically based in Northern Louisiana.    She introduces herself in the first book Dead Until Dark as someone suffering from a deformity.   She’s also super-attractive.     (The way her mental abilities cause human suitors to lose interest in her well-built body is a bit like the pre-feminist tales of women who were told to hide their smarts if they wanted to hold onto a man.)

Sookie’s vampires, unlike Edward Cullen, have little high-minded hesitancy about sex (or about manipulation and violence.)   Moreover, Sookie’s vampires (i) don’t just lust after her blood but frequently bite her, and (ii) spend about half of every day actually dead.  (These qualities may well be confusing to a young adult reader.)

So maybe here’s the distinction:  Twilight characters are good.  Good.  GOOD.   Except when they are bad.  Bad.  BAD.

Hmm…  Is it possible that the qualities which  seem to make Twilight so popular are the same qualities that make it adaptable to graphic novel form?  (A world that can be drawn in black and white lines.)

Teenage girls, it seems, are idealists after all.  Idealists and Every Girl and lovers of the fantastical.

Between a Rock and a Hard Place – Learning From Sookie Stackhouse

January 6, 2010

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Between a rock and a hard place.  A universal locale.  One we’ve all visited.  Where some of us even live.

One reason I’m enamored of the Southern Vampire series (Sookie Stackhouse/True Blood novels) is that Sookie frequently finds herself in such a position.  (Frankly, even being in one of her vampire lover’s arms is such a place, given the marble musculature, and all that business with the fangs.)

One of the series’ most classic rock-and-hard-place moments occurs in Altogether Dead, when Andre, chief aide-de-camp of the Vampire Queen of Louisiana, demands a blood exchange with Sookie to ensure her loyalty to the Queen.  (Another thing I like about the books is their complete silliness.)  Before Andre can force Sookie to take his blood, the dynamic and debonairly handsome vampire Eric Northman appears, and persuades Andre that he should be the substitute blood exchangee, since he too is a minion of the Queen of Louisiana.  Eric then must convince Sookie that exchanging blood with him is her best shot, the lesser of two evils.

What a dilemma.  Sookie must choose between the dry, calculating, mean, Andre and the super-sexy, protective, and ruthless but loving, Eric Northman.  (Did I mention spoiler alert that Eric is also wealthy, constantly giving Sookie things like a new driveway, a new coat, and a new cell phone?)

Talk about escapism.  Sookie’s choice between a rock and hard place is a bit like a choice between Death Valley in a heat wave and a cliff jump into an exhilarating stream.

In the non-fictional world, unfortunately, our hard choices tend to be a bit more murky (a choice, say, between this sick feeling in our stomach and that sick feeling in our stomach), and it is hard to embue them with a sense of excitement.

Note that my mention of stomach feelings.  This may be because I tend to view a decisive step as something that turns my stomach (in the aforementioned sickly way), rather than churns it (with a feel of adventure).  The problem is that I seem generally convinced that there is an absolutely right choice, and that that choice, undoubtedly, hasn’t even crossed my mind.  This aggrandizes the making of a decision in an awful way– I am not only deciding an immediate issue; I am being subjected to a test–of my decision-making capacity, my wisdom, my worth as a human being.

Since I’m still in New Year’s resolution mode, I ask myself what to do about this problem.  How does one turn the spot between a rock and a hard place into a forward-leading path?  Okay, scratch that.  How does one turn it into a place where one is not simply banging one’s head?   How does one recognize that the spot between the rock and hard place is sometimes located in one’s own cerebral cortex?

Back to the Sookie Stackhouse model:  she is an example of forthrightness and aplomb, but she is also beaten, shot, or bitten, on nearly every other page.   She also has (i) this wonderfully delicious blood, (ii) valuable telepathic abilities, and (iii) a great figure, all of which seem to mean that she can indulge in a fair amount of righteous an extremely vocal indignation whenever she is faced with a hard decision, and always be totally forgiven.  She is a good enough character that she suffers regrets, qualms, and remorse, but, generally, once she makes a decision, she learns to make the best of it.

I don’t want to be shot or bitten; and I have no idea of the quality of my blood.  (I’m also out of the running for Sookie’s other two enumerated qualities.)  So, that leaves me with …regrets, qualms, remorse (I’ve got those covered)…making the best of it.  The best in this case has nothing to do with perfectionism.

Good old Sookie.

(Caveat—I’ve never seen the TV show True Blood, but only read the Charlaine Harris novels.   Sorry for any spoilers or differences.)

(P.S. Click the link to see Sookie, Eric and Bill Compton as turtles,  or as elephants.

(Post-Script – if you like elephants, check out 1 Mississippi by Karin Gustafson.)

Escapism – One Could Do Worse Than Eric Northman

December 17, 2009

A  couple of weeks ago, I wrote a post about the lure of mind candy when escapism hits. At around the same time, I wrote a post about reading nine Sookie Stackhouse/True Blood vampire novels in one week.  (This, I should note, was not a week in which I was on vacation sitting reading on a beach.)    Comparing the Sookie Stackhouse vampire novels to the few other vampire novels I’ve read (the Twilight Saga), I said that the Stackhouse books weren’t really such great re-reads because they were mysteries rather than romances.

A couple of weeks, and several re-reads, later, have led me to revise that opinion.  The Sookie Stackhouse books actually are fairly romantic, at least fairly raunchy, and they score quite well on the escapist/obsessive-compulsive/manicD re-reading charts.  (The audible books read with a delightful Southern accent by Johanna Parker, are also pretty helpful for the highly-pressured who eschew medication.)

I also want to revise my previously posted opinion of the character of Eric Northman (noting again that I’ve never seen the True Blood TV series.)  I said in my post that  I thought Eric was too devious to be a romantic hero.  While I think it very unlikely that Sookie ultimately ends up with Eric (because of the whole non-aging, non-childbearing, vampire thing), she could definitely do worse.

Re-reading these books has also led me to wonder what exactly people, escapist people, like about vampire novels.

Of course, there’s the utter (fun) silliness.

Then too, there’s the attraction (for female escapists) of unpopular girls suddenly being swooped up into a world of super-handsome, super-devoted, rich, handsome, strong, protective, males.

But I think what escapists are particularly attracted to is the dominance of compulsion in these books.  The vampires are portrayed as beings who, despite being control freaks, are implacably driven by the rules of their deeper natures–their desire for certain scents of blood; their apathy towards other beings; their inescapable hierarchies.  Anyone in escapist mode finds both these battles with compulsion, and the many guiltless surrenders to it, pretty intriguing.

Secondly, there’s the inner logic.   Once you make the huge leap into the world of all these crazy magical beings, everything else is very rational, ordered, in the books.  Certainly, there is a lot of violence, but it’s never random.  (Books with seemingly random, yet very real violence, like, for example,  Cormac McCarthy’s All the Pretty Horses¸ only make an escapist feel terrified; as if his or her lack of attention to the details of daily life could lead to some truly disastrous consequence.)

Finally, the dialogue-filled prose forms a comfortable groove in the stressed brain a whole lot faster than something like, let’s say, Heidigger.  This accessibility makes them particularly good for reading on a treadmill, of virtually any kind.

Bill Compton as Vampire Camel

December 14, 2009

Vampire Bill as Camel

Bill Compton as Camel.  I know, it’s weird.

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