Twilight for Guys

I’m a guy.
I’ve read Twilight.
Would adding a conjunction to combine those two sentences make this a false statement:
I’m a guy and I’ve read Twilight.
Or, would the right conjunction help it retain its truth:
I’m a guy or I’ve read Twilight.
I’m a guy, but I’ve read Twilight.
If I had to guess, most guys (and some girls) would point to the latter two as being more plausible–the “or” statement being the closest to reality. The “but” would also be acceptable.
The thing is, though, that I’m one of those who is in the “and” statement group.
I’m a guy.
I’ve read Twilight.
This isn’t about shame, though. Sure, I did none of this reading in a public place. But that’s beside the point. Or maybe it’s exactly the point. Regardless, the deed is done, and opinions have been formed. Here’s what I’ve decided:
This book was exactly as good as I expected it to be.
That’s about as diplomatic a statement as one could make, and yet, it is the most accurate description of what I felt about Twilight.
I can, for example, see exactly why a teenage girl (or even a grown woman who enjoys romance novels) would like it: because that’s really what it is. Twilight is a teen romance, with all the angst and awkwardness that comes from a real-life encounter with a similar situation.
It just so happens that one of these teens also is a vampire.
But that Edward is a vampire really wasn’t a compelling feature for me (especially as his vampire-ness comes with the unfortunate “sparkling,” which I’m sure you’ve heard derided from here to Forks). His being a vampire is pretty much the equivalent of him being African-American, or poor, or some other social/ethnic minority-class that would seem out of place in an all-white community–and therefore taboo for a girl from the “right side of the tracks” to be with. Except, Meyer doesn’t play it this way (which I think would have been an interesting play on the standard trope, albeit a bit like Buffy and Angel/Spike). Instead, Edward just comes off as the angsty kid–the bad-boy–that of course Bella is attracted to.
And it helps that his breath smells like delicious, delicious candy.

Yet–again–I could deal with how she portrays vampires if I thought it was important that he was a vampire. But, really, it’s only important in that it sets up why they can’t be together (which gets resolved pretty much halfway through the book).
So as a paranormal story, it was vaguely disappointing.
But overall, I think the story was perfectly adequate (as was the writing–remember, this is her first novel, and as someone who has stacks of submissions in his cubicle, I feel like I know what “bad writing” actually looks like). I think it is choppy at parts, and that the ending felt a bit rushed, but I wouldn’t say it was a bad story.
I just don’t think I could ever recommend it to a guy. Because, really, that’s not the audience of these stories (and this is despite the fact that the first time I heard about these books, a few years ago, was from my older brother). While a teenage boy might connect with the characters, the only thing they’re going to get out of it (especially the kind of guy who would read these books as a teenager–i.e.: me as a teenager) is that unless you’re undead, uncommonly handsome, and have the strength of a super-hero, you have no chance with the girl (which sounds like such a fun reading experience). Essentially, it’s like asking a guy to read Sweet Valley High, or The Baby-Sitters Club.
But with vampires.
And while I did read it, it took a cute girl and an exchange of Ender’s Game to make this happen.
I’m not saying a guy can’t like Twilight, I just don’t think they will. And that’s perfectly okay.
But so is the sentence: “I’m a guy and I’ve read Twilight.”

(This post, I think, explains why I think the following picture is hilarious).