Tags

, , ,

Since posting the other day about my trip into the Southland to watch New Moon, I realized, due to some feedback, that I didn’t make myself exactly clear. I do find the Twilight phenomenon rather extreme, and fascinating for its intensity. The first movie was awful for so many reasons. Campy, “so-bad-it’s-hilarious” bad, and there are parts of the second movie that are so absurd that they just had to be jokes. But …  just so that we’re clear: I like the series. A lot.

My mother reeled me in. Every once in a while she calls me to tell me about a book or a movie I need to get and she’s always right on the money. Now I own all of the books. Though I sort of wish I hadn’t, I read the unfinished manuscript and debated a bit about that whole debacle. And I recently purchased Crepúsculo—I figure, why just reread when I could be practicing my Spanish as well? Which brings the grand total to five novels, one PDF, three or four ticket stubs, and the first movie on DVD.

Why do I bring this up?

This is not a defense of Twilight, or my enjoyment of the rest of the sub-genre, but about a social trend I dislike. The other day when someone found out I had seen New Moon, they referred to it, smirking and sneering as only haters can do, as my “guilty pleasure.” This phrase pops up often enough that, though I understand its common meaning, it still bothers both the etymologist* and the egoist in me.

The idea of feeling obligated to preserve an illusion of coolness, an arbitrary line I’m not supposed to cross, is absurd. I can like Star Wars, nerdy nostalgia, but not Star Trek (until very recently) because that crosses into unacceptable geekhood? I can read about witches and wizards, a magical, childlike fantasy, but have to apologize for liking vampires and werewolves? I do not accept this. But then, for a while now I’ve had a hard time understanding why people are so concerned with what other people think of them anyway, especially when it seems they haven’t the faintest clue what they think of themselves … but that’s an entirely new subject. I could digress my head off about psychosociology.

I find it interesting that the one group I’ve seen less governed by this is an ungroup, the Outcasts. There’s something to be said for never knowing acceptance. If you assume you can’t gain it, you’re less likely to fear losing it. No fear, no boundaries. Freedom. This is also the realm I’ve lived in most of my life. No surprises there, I guess.

A lot of people assume they’re going to be made fun of so they do it first, without even thinking, in the hopes that if they do they’ll still be accepted by their comforting circle of socially secure peers.

“So what are you reading?”
“Oh, just a little guilty pleasure.”
“Is that one of those Tru-Blood books? Ugh, I can’t believe they got you too!”
“I know, I know! It’s stupid and a waste of my time but my sister gave it to me and it’s such a fast read and I can’t stop rolling my eyes anyway … I don’t even like it!”

Much like most other forms of self-deprecation, I understand it but I don’t Get It. I don’t really Get guilt either, and certainly if something brings me pleasure, I feel no guilt in it. These exchanges for me, go a little something like this:

Them: “That’s not one of those vampire books is it? What are you reading?”
Me: “Soft-core porn.”
Them: [stunned silence]
Me: “Uh-huh, I’m outstanding and I know it. I don’t care what you think of me. Self-contained self-confidence—you should try it.”

*Word Rant: I understand that word combinations, like “guilty pleasure,” modify the definitions of words and form a new generation of language. What bothers me is when the new definitions, even new spellings, are just watered down, careless versions of the old ones. When people say “guilty pleasure” they don’t mean either word, not really. Their casual use renders both words meaningless and a word like “pleasure” deserves to have its power preserved. Much like happened with “ironic” or “random”—apathetic abuses of the language are sucking all the meaning out of it.

Advertisement