I’m glad you left the kitchen long enough to impart that absolute gem. July 19, 2010

Posted by William Kostakis in Shits Me To Tears.
Tags: Alexandra Adornetto
27 comments

I know. I’m going to tread carefully here. Last time I disagreed with a teenage girl on the Interwebz, I had hatemail from here to Tasmania, but – seriously, Alexandra, come on. For those that don’t know, Alexandra Adornetto is a big deal in Aussie kids lit at the moment, and she recently wrote an article comparing your favourite sparkly Edward Cullen, to, you know, guys who aren’t the figment of your imagination (read it here).

When I first heard the concept of the article, I was giddy. I mean, an educated, accomplished young woman – an author, who studies and writes people – was about to stick up for the teen guys everywhere who are measured up against a fictional, impossibly rich, practically abusive vampire.

For a start, Edward (unlike your typical pubescent male) is not a commitment-phobe. His devotion to Bella is impressive. He opens car doors for her, is always attentive to her needs and does not presume to take her out without first meeting her father.

Ah, “typical pubescent male”, the words of someone who has probably met a grand total of four of them.

As a pubescent male, I was the ridicule of many – they called me Stalin, because I had a 5-year plan. Within 5 years, I’d meet the girl of my dreams, and we’d be well on the way to making babies. Well, it’s been 5 years, and well, here I am, childless. Why? I actually tried a relationship. They’re complicated. They’re hard work. I’m of the belief that, when a relationship works, no guy will flee for the hills. When the relationship isn’t working, then someone will call it quits. “Commitment” is just the excuse they’ll use.

Also… Edward watches her while she sleeps. Impressive, attentive or “HOMAGAWD, YOU STALKER FREAK” (click here).

Why do I have a huge problem with Edward Cullen? Because I hate the expectation that he is who I have to be. I dream of a girl with banter, who isn’t looking for me to open the doors for her, to be “attentive to her needs” – sure, I’ll try my best to open doors, and be attentive to her needs, but I don’t want a girl who expects me to cushion her from the world and read her mind. And I sure as heck don’t want a girl who lives in the mid-nineteenth century and thinks meeting her father is a pre-requisite for a date. I mean, Alexandra, have you gone out on a date with a guy without meeting his family, or is it only a must the other way around? I don’t know about you, but when there’s chemistry, the last thing on my mind is, “Forget grabbing a bite to eat, come meet my Yiayia, she’s kind of zany in a William Shatner/Boston Legal kind of way.”

What’s more, Edward is never confused about his role – he is comfortable as protector and provider.

SOCIAL PROGRESS! I’m glad you left the kitchen long enough to impart that absolute gem.

Let’s face it – the average teenage boy doesn’t stand a chance against Edward Cullen. I recently had a brief dalliance with a boy my age who could not communicate to save his life. He kept a roll of toilet paper by his bed for ”poo emergencies” in the night and refused to walk the 10 metres to the servo where he worked, opting instead to skateboard in order to avoid exertion. He did have a few redeeming features: an endearing upturned nose and a preppy schoolboy haircut. Sadly, these were not enough to sustain a relationship.

So… you chose him because of the way he looked? See, if I was interested in dating a girl, instead of trying to meet her father, I’d get to know her. I don’t tick off age-old courtship rituals as I complete them, I focus solely on discerning whether they’re batshit insane. I do that by talking to them – if someone I was courting couldn’t communicate to “save her life”, I’d know within two seconds, and I wouldn’t bother. Screw “dalliances” because of noses and haircuts, I go for personality. It works far better than dating someone who seems like a douche and then bemoaning the state of an ENTIRE GENDER because he didn’t measure up to a fantasy.

There is no denying Edward Cullen has raised the bar. The only question remaining is: how will teen males rise to the challenge? A friend and I were bemoaning the disastrous nature of teen romance recently when she commented that, when asked out these days, her first thoughts run along these lines: ”Can you run at lightening speed? Can you throw me over your shoulder and scale a tree in the event of imminent danger? Will you sit by my bedside every night watching me sleep and wondering about my dreams?”

We joked about the response this might elicit from the real teen: ”Nah, babe, but I can knock back a six-pack in under half an hour, do some impressive grinding on the D-floor and throw up neatly into a garbage bin at the end of the night. Doesn’t that turn you on?”

Alexandra Adornetto, you just made me throw up in my mouth. If I had reduced the opposite gender to a massive generalisation, I’d be called a sexist, misogynistic pig. Yes, guys like the ones you describe do exist, just like there are girls who can knock back a six-pack in under half an hour, do some impressive grinding on the D-floor and throw up neatly into a garbage bin at the end of the night.

But you know what? Guys who, like you, spent their teen years writing, waiting for “the one” – they exist too. They didn’t give up on “the one” because a flawless FHM model/Hermione Granger tickled their fancy, or because they had a brief “dalliance” with a girl whose hair they had to hold back while she chundered on the lawn.

By all means, crawl into a book for your wish fulfillment, but don’t measure guys up against fantasies unless you want to be consistently disappointed.

Every day of my teenage life, I had a constant fear of being measured up against people who were smarter than me, who were stronger than me, better looking, more charming and funnier than me, to the point where I had really horrible self-esteem. What you’re doing is one step worse, at least the guys I felt inferior beside were real. You’re taking a perfect piece of fiction (who borders on creepy), and demanding we match up.

But see, we lacklustre boys have something Edward doesn’t – discernable flaws. They’re what make us engaging. Articles like yours almost encourage this white-washing of personality, until we’re all prim, all proper, and all chivalric slaves, who don’t open doors because we want to, but because we have to.

If I had written an article that was exactly the same as yours, only inverted the genders, I’m sure not only would I have been crucified as a sexist, with Germaine Greer on my doorstep brandishing a flaming stick, but it would never have been published. I haven’t read any of your books, but having read this article, it’s clear you don’t know boys. You can’t see past the posturing, the skateboard (oh no, he liked to ride a skateboard, how decadent!), and see the real-world worries, the real-world insecurities that all boys feel (we’re actually people too…), then you shouldn’t be allowed to write them.