VINDICATION

This posting is dedicated to all of my friends and family who rolled their eyes when they found out what I was up to during that week two summers ago when I locked myself in my bedroom and read the Twilight saga in its entirety.

Admittedly, reading Twilight falls squarely under the category of Things English People Do But Pretend They Don't. It probably also falls under the category of Things 30-Year-Olds Do But Pretend They Don't, as well.

As a side note, I did find it somewhat unsettling that the only people who noticed my absence during my self-imposed lock-in were the baristas at Starbucks. "We were a bit concerned," they said. And I think they really were. On the other hand, my brother, with whom I lived at the time, thought I had moved without notice. In his defense, moving without notice is one of my defining personality quirks.

Anyway, I didn't exactly announce that I was reading these books. The first volume came my way via one of my freshman English students. One day I pulled her over in the hallway and asked her what the deal was with this GIGANTIC book I had begun to notice under the arms of many of the girls at my school. As their English teacher, I knew that nine out of ten of my students did not read. So, I was curious about what was enthralling enough for them to carry around all day and read in between classes.

At the end of the week, my freshman English student came to my classroom and in what was an unspoken agreement that the little exchange was to stay between the two of us--handed over Twilight to me. "You're going to die, it's sooooooooooooooooo good, Ms. M," she said (saying that something will make you die is the highest compliment bestowed by a high schooler). So that's how it happened. I walked out of school with Stephanie Meyers in my bag, right next to Shakespeare and Vonnegut.

Two days later I slinked into Barnes and Noble to get my next fix. In response to the cashier's raised eyebrows, I explained as nonchalantly as possible "My niece. She's hooked. But, I'm just glad she's reading." Yeah...in retrospect, it's possible I was just a bit paranoid.

Flash forward a few years. I met a newish friend who works in the art auction world at the Cleveland International Film Festival a few weekends ago. After the movie, we were feeling very smart and cultured and having a semi-serious conversation about several semi-serious topics when somehow the town of La Push, Washington came up.

"I know La Push!" I said, realizing almost instantly my mistake.

"Oh, you've been?"

Now anyone who has read Twilight knows that La Push is a favorite haunt of the, um, werewolves. My friend looked at me waiting for a further explanation, and I knew I had a decision to make. Given my demographic profile and occupation, telling people that I have read Twilight is always a bit risky. It is entirely feasible that they will love me just a little bit less. After a moment of deliberation, I came clean. Yeah, I read them. I. Read. Them. All.

Hello, My Name is M. and I read Twilight.

I met up again with my now less newish friend last night, and she told me that she had been given a copy of Twilight earlier this week by a here's--where it gets good everyone brace yourselves--RARE BOOK DEALER.

Ha! So there! So there to everyone who has judged me--the English person--for reading young adult fantasy! Take that cashier lady with the twitchy eyebrows! Take that Mr. and Ms. You Know Who You Are! In the world of serious literature, RARE BOOK DEALERS trump English instructors, if not in the scope of what they have read, then at least in their literary taste (the perennial Beowulf and anything by Charles Dickens is a perfect example of English teachers having very little taste). I left last night feeling very smug and told you so. Yes, I've been vindicated! Validated! Exonerated!

*I'm happy to report that my now less newish friend (who shall remain anonymous for obvious reasons) is savoring the book into the small hours of the morning, as she should be.