What if “teaser trailers” feed into a gendered paradigm?

Teaser trailers are commonly used to advertise upcoming films. However, the term “tease” has marked gender connotations.

Seeing as I am immersed in book promotion for Seduced by Twilight at the moment, I can’t help but think about all the teasing going on in relation to Breaking Dawn, especially as Bella Swan is often framed as a “tease” (particularly in her dealings with Jacob) while Edward (who is MUCH more of a tease if you ask me) is NOT.

Urban Dictionary defines “tease” in the following ways:

A member of the opposite sex, ussualy (sic) a female who entices you into thinking you have a chance. Almost always ends with you having blueballs and feelings of sorrow, resentment and bitterness.”

“A girl who knows she’s wanted… but just wants to play with the guy’s head.”

“A girl who likes to flirt a lot without the intention of giving it up to you.”

“A girl that sexually excites a boy but leaves him with out sexual stimulation; a girl that acts interested in another boy just to seduce him.”

“A girl who flirts with you, with no intention of giving it up.”

While all the “teasers” coming out in regards to Breaking Dawn Part 1 don’t rely on such negative notions of females as “cock-teasers,” this etymological background to the word is interesting in relation to the way the Twilight saga circulates around not giving it up while constantly wanting it, an undercurrent that has elsewhere been called “abstinence porn.”

Though Edward is in ways more of a tease than anyone, constantly putting his sparkly self out there for all to adore and then announcing himself off limits, it is Bella that bears the brunt of teasing accusations – as when she flirts with Jacob on the beach in order to get him to tell her about the Cold Ones or, more generally, via her constant ‘begging for it’ with Edward when she knows he is gonna keep things G-rated until he puts a ring on it (to use Beyonce’s parlance).

But how do Twilight “teaser trailers” feed into this gendered paradigm? I don’t know that the trailers themselves do, but fan responses certainly speak to the titillating nature of the content. In effect, the teasers can be read as (female) objects used to excite and allure fan subjects (and note active subjecthood has been historically coded as male).

Yet, as Twilight has proven in spades, female fandoms matter and can be just as active, influential, and relevant to wider popular culture as male fans. Given this, might the gendered connotations of the word “tease” become more egalitarian, with males thought of as just as able to “tease” as females? Twi-shirtlessness and six-packery certainly indicates the real tease is not Bella, but the many males who frolic around her with their icy-hard bodies and hot wolfy (yet hairless) chests.

Yet, when Hollywood Reporter gives us the tagline “Watch a tease like no other” and notes “The biggest tease of them all just entered the world of teaser trailers,” wouldn’t you say that the use of “biggest tease” makes you think of a female or female behavior?

This is certainly the case in this post, where Bella is framed as “a monster cocktease.”

After this image

the author asks,

“Who Do You Think She’ll String Along Next?

Im putting my cash on a hunky Mummy.”

Grammatical errors aside, this author displays the typical sexism that frames and BLAMES women for teasing (and note the failure to consider the fact it’s the males who are the MONSTERS!)

The above post and image speaks to how there is no equivalent “vaginal tease” terminology to balance out “cock tease” or use of the term “blue ovaries” to indicate a female based sexual frustration akin to “blue balls.” (I would like to see an image framing Edward as a tease… if you know of any, dear readers, please post them in comments!)

There is a lot of Breaking Dawn teasing going on (as here, here, and here) and this critic-fan is in hopes that maybe, just maybe, all this Twi-teasing might serve to break the double standard where females are the only ones negatively framed as teasers while also simultaneously bolstering an active female gaze, one in which women and girls are no longer the (teasing) objects viewing themselves via the male gaze, but where gazing, looking, desiring, and yes, teasing, is coded as something HUMAN rather than gendered to the benefit of males and the detriment of females.

What if you are attending the Popular Culture and American Culture Association Conference?

Well, I will see you there! I am presenting on the following panels and will also be holding a book signing for my just released book, Seduced by Twilight.

Fluid Nightmares in HBO’s True Blood , Wednesday 1:15

Publishing and Blogging on Popular Culture: A Q & A with Natalie Wilson, Thursday 1:15

Queering the Vampire Roundtable , Thursday 3:00

Twilight Pedagogy: Taking a Bite out of Popular Culture”, Saturday 8:00

What if they showed the bruises? The Wedding Night Photo from Breaking Dawn

Photos from the film adaptation of Breaking Dawn are trickling into the pop culture atmosphere. What a shocker that the new wedding night photo from Breaking Dawn shows Edward on top! And, no sign of the bruises to come — or, as Bella calls them, “decorations.” I am soooo anxious to see how the film will deal with the quasi-abusive/masochistic headboard busting seen. It will be hard to make a black and blue covered Bella look all romantically post-coital…

As I argue in my book, scenes like this one glorify sexual violence, male domination, female submission – perpetuating both rape culture and the purity myth.

What if Dexter is Killer Feminism? A Review of Showtime’s Dexter, Season Five

Dexter’s eye for an eye vigilantism came to a gripping season finale this week with Jordan Chase, serial rapist and murderer, brought to a bloody end by Lumen. (If you are not familiar with the show, go here and here for two good feminist overviews of the series or see this series of posts here.)

Season five had much to offer feminist viewers.

For example, Dexter’s single dad status led to one episode with a mommy and me play date that revealed the ruthless world of toddler/parent interaction. As the lone dad, Dexter was the outcast amongst a sea of women – many who viewed him with extreme suspicion. The episode avoided demonizing the moms though, and instead suggested just how gendered the parenting realm is and how dads, when they walk amongst this “female world,” are outsiders in many regards.

And, the rape revenge fantasy at the heart of the season involving Dexter and Lumen allowed for a insightful exploration of sexual assault and violence against women. Lumen (played by Julia Stiles), one of two survivors of a murderous gang that raped, tortured, and murdered 12 women, joins forces with Dexter to bring the male perpetrators to justice. That justice in Lumen’s and Dexter’s book is vigilante murder may not seem in keeping with feminist aims for a less violent world.

So, why was this season good viewing for feminists? Yes, the violence is visceral and the blood excessive. The administered justice is very harsh – with murder on the agenda for those serial killer Dexter decides “don’t deserve to live.” But, underneath its brutal exterior, the show also presents us with deeper moral questions about a legal system that consistently fails to catch or punish serial killers, rapists, and child abusers – and, deeper still, about what type of society breeds such violence and, if indeed our legal system creates just as many criminals as it attempts to apprehend.

The depiction of Lumen  – a female raped, tortured and nearly murdered who realizes that the violence done to her cannot be denied and will forever change her view of the world and her place in it – was extremely powerful and expertly played by Stiles. As noted at Feminists For Choice, “the show does an above-average job of accurately depicting the agony of rape trauma syndrome and PTSD.” Moreover, by suggesting the boy-gang formed at summer camp that ultimately became a group of male serial killers is related to the equating of masculinity with violence (and particularly violent sexuality), the show functions as a scathing critique of guyland and its codes.

Ironically Dexter, the serial killer at the show’s center, is one of the best models of masculinity in the series – he is a good father, partner, and brother struggling in a world that often rewards the wrong people. Jordan Chase, leader of the murderous gang is a prime example of this – as a successful self-help celebrity, he is rewarded with admiration and wealth. Yet, beneath his shiny exterior, he is the mastermind behind the torture and rape of at least 14 women.

Men such as Jordan impel Dexter’s “dark passenger” to dole out punishment in order to partially make up for the brutal murder of his mother, which he witnessed as a young child. Yet Dexter suffers with his compulsion, feeling more monster than human. Here too, the show grapples with the complexity of morality and justice, showing that, as Deb reiterated again and again in this season’s finale, things are never simple. This message was also emphasized in the recent episode when Aster, Dexter’s tween daughter, showed up drunk. At first viewers were encouraged to see her as selfish and immature, to view her drinking and shoplifting as sign of a girl gone wrong. Yet, along with Dexter, viewers slowly realize Aster’s behavior was spurred by her attempts to help her friend, who was being abused by her stepfather. Such storylines reveal that often the “crime” committed (in this case, tween drinking and stealing) has much deeper roots than an individual’s “badness.” Indeed, the show turns the entire “a few bad apples” idea, where society is harmed by a handful of “evil people,” on its head. Instead, we see that our society is pervaded with rot – from tip to top – and that this rot is intricately linked to the violence done to girls and women by males raised on an excessively violent code of masculinity.

The show also explores how the competitive model of dog-eat-dog individualism leads to workplace backstabbing, especially among the few women who have had to claw and fight their way to the top.

This was exemplified this season via the storyline in which Lt. Laguerta (Lauren Velez) betrays Deb (Jennifer Carpenter). For me, this was the most problematic narrative arc – not only because it smacked of the “see what happens when you give women power” meme, but also because of its racialized undertones with a lying Latina throwing a wrench in the career of white female detective. However, given the racial diversity of the cast, the series avoids demonizing any one racial group, just as it avoids suggesting only men are violent or only women are victims. To the contrary, the show reveals that no one is safe from the violence that pervades our world and this viewer, like the Feminist Spectator, “can’t help celebrating Dexter’s queer victories, and looking forward to more”  – not only because the show transgresses boundaries and challenges a social system organized around a decidedly unfair system of power and privilege, but more simply because, as foul-mouthed Deb would say, I fucking love it.

What if Twilight’s Representation of Inigenous People Matters?

The following post  is an abridged version of a talk I delivered at the National Women’s Studies Association conference in Denver on November 12, 2010. The title comes from Judith Butler’s use of the word “matters” (from her book Bodies that Matter). In her theorizing, Butler emphasizes that we need to analyze what and who is constructed as “mattering” and that the issue of who “matters” is shaped by dominant ideologies and norms. At NWSA, some participants felt that the following analysis didn’t “matter” and that analysis of Twilight and the surrounding cultural phenomenon is not worthy of feminist attention. To those who disagree and see the importance of such analysis, thank you. To those who wish to police the boundaries of feminism and women’s studies, I encourage reflection on how such a move goes against the very tenets of the discipline and the movement.

*

Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight saga romanticizes white privilege and the continuing rule of whites over “the Other” – which, in Twilight’s case, is the Quileute. Further, while the series has been complimented for depicting Native Americans in the modern day rather than in some mythic past, the saga nevertheless ignores present realities and injustices

Read as a racial allegory, a white, working class woman chooses between an ultra-white, ultra-privileged vampire and a far less privileged wolf of color.
The franchising of the phenomenon has capitalized on the Native American angle in a way that is culturally and morally dubious, much like the way we might question Meyer’s inclusion of Quileute legend for her own purposes – an inclusion that was done without extensive research or scholarly inquiry, let alone (it seems) with permission from the Quileute people.

We can thus read the story of Twilight as grounded in older tales of conquest and imperialism – and in the tradition of white authors appropriating native stories and voices – though instead of the whites and Native Americans that populated the Western films that re-enacted this conquest, we now have vampires and werewolves vying over land as well as women.

Yet, if we examine Twilight in relation to the decimation of indigenous people, and with an awareness of how Christianity generally and Mormonism more specifically are related to larger colonial and missionary projects, it is no stretch to see that to ignore race in the saga is a glaring omission.

This history cannot be ignored if one is to offer a full analysis of Twilight and the cultural work it is doing. Literature historically played a huge role in the framing of Native Americans as uncivilized and savage. Meyer’s texts carry on this project.

The saga’s failure to re-work damaging representations of indigenous peoples places it within a long line of white-penned narratives that variously appropriate and/or misrepresent Native culture and legend.

As noted in the introduction to Ward Churchill’s Fantasies of the Master Race, “Literature crafted by a dominating culture can be an insidious political force, disinforming people who might otherwise develop a clearer understanding of the struggles for survival faced by an indigenous population.”

The texts indeed “disinform” people about the Quileute, leading them to believe on the one hand that their legends include werewolves and, on the other, rendering the indigenous struggle for survival invisible.

Twilight produces a modern myth that equates whiteness with goodness and frames indigenous people as less evolved beasts. It thus allies with Ward Churchill’s claim that “literature in America is and always has been part and parcel of the colonial process”.

While Meyer explains her inclusion of the Quileute as coming about due to her visit to Forks and discovery of their legends, it cannot be denied that representing a real indigenous people as wolves is in accordance with a colonialist viewpoint.

Meyer readily admits that she had concerns about her depiction of the Quileute. When asked by a fan if she had “any negative recourse for the fictional portrayal of their tribal members as werewolves?”, Meyer answered:

I was pretty worried about this myself. However, to this point I’ve had nothing but positive feedback from Native Americans, both Quileute and otherwise. I actually got a letter on MySpace from a girl who is the daughter of one of the council members… and she loved the werewolf thing.

Here, Meyer’s comments reveal that she had some sense she was taking liberty with another culture’s legends and history.

Further, by obliquely referring to positive feedback about her focus on ethnicity, she averts the question of portraying tribal members AS werewolves.

In another question and answer session, when asked why she chose certain settings, Meyer shared “I was nervous about what the real life citizens of Forks would think, and more especially what the real life people of La Push would think—I’d taken some rather big liberties with their fictional history, and I wasn’t sure if they would find it amusing or irritating.”

Again, Meyer reveals an awareness that her “liberties” might be taken as an affront. What she does not seem aware of though, is how said liberties build upon a history of appropriation in the name of white, colonial interests.

Whether or not Meyer is intentionally writing from such a colonial view is not the point, – more pertinent is that her socio-historical positioning cannot help but shape her depiction of Native culture.

Or, as Sherman Alexie argues, “when non-Indians write about us, it’s colonial literature. And unless it’s seen that way, there’s a problem.”

As far as my research reveals, Meyer did not correspond with any Quileute peoples nor seek out the Tribal Council to enquire whether it was okay to depict their legends in the series, let alone to determine whether her Google research was correct.

In contrast, she did reach out to the owners of Bella Italia restaurant in Port Angeles to find out if it was okay for her to feature the restaurant in a scene. So, she got permission to write about mushroom ravioli but not an entire people (as revealed in the Twilight in Forks DVD).

Instead, Meyer read about the Quileute on the internet, just as Bella does in the series. Meyer freely admits this when discussing how she decided on the Forks setting and the inclusion of the Quileute, noting “I turned to Google, as I do for all my research needs.”

A modern James Fenimore Cooper, Meyer carries on a long tradition of white authors who know little to nothing of indigenous peoples but nevertheless feel entitled to write about their cultures.

Further, Meyer carries on the tradition of using indigenous characters for “backdrop” and  “color” and raises no real criticisms of the colonial project or current racial inequalities.

Like Westerns, which rarely show the real diversity of Native Americans, Twilight presents the Quileute people as “russet-colored” outsiders who are romanticized as noble, exotic, and mysterious on the one hand, and dehumanized as beastly, childlike, and sexually violent on the other.

Historically, this construction resulted in native peoples being viewed quite literally as animals. In an example documented by Andrea Smith,  a California newspaper reported in 1853, “We can never rest in security until the redskins are treated like the other wild beasts of the forest.”
This line could fit quite well within Twilight with the white privileged vampires unable to rest until the “russet colored” wolves, and Jacob in particular, are “civilized.”

In the final book of the series, this colonization of the wolf is promoted when the Cullens introduce “culture” to Jacob. Sleeping and eating outside at first, in various states of undress, J is gradually “civilized” and moves inside the Cullen house, or into the white world.

While Meyer’s texts themselves largely ally with the white construction of “the Indian,” the casting choice of Lautner also falls in line with a long history of non-native actors being cast to play indigenous parts.

However, after the ruckus over Lautner’s casting, Native actors were cast to play various roles for the second film, though none of them are Quileute. Alex Meraz, who plays Paul, was mindful of the weightiness of his casting, sharing

In essence, even though we’re taking some of their mythology, their creation story and it’s mixed in a fantasy, still we’re taking from the culture. Being Native, we needed to be conscious of that and ask permission to the people of the past, present and of the future … Native Americans…have a right to be protective of their stories.

Putting a rather positive spin on the saga’s depiction of the Quileute, Meraz further explains:

I think it’s time for us to kind of rewrite what Hollywood’s take on Native Americans was, which was long hair blowing, noble kind of people, leather and feather period pieces. So now you see something in a contemporary setting, and you see us to be humans. It’s great.

While it’s true the saga avoids the usual tendency to depict Natives as only living in (or stuck in) the past, Meraz’s claim that the saga shows them as humans glosses over the fact that the texts (and the film adaptations) focus on the wolf identity of the Quileute – on their animality more than their humanity.

Moreover, not only does Twilight frame America as the new frontier for vampires (with Forks being the Western resting place of these good pioneers), it constructs La Push (and non-white society) as “outside,” Other, and poverty-stricken.

Meyer’s depiction of a “treaty” between the Cullen vampires and the Quileute wolves also problematically echoes earlier historical treaties between Native Americans and the Federal Government.  However, Meyer’s fictional treaty differs dramatically from the real life Treaty of Olympia, signed between the Quileute nation and the US in 1856. While the historical treaty resulted in the loss of Quileute land and sovereignty, the treaty in Twilight offers a relatively peaceful means of co-existence.

Meanwhile, for the real Quileute people of La Push, land issues remain a concern and boundary disputes with Washington State continue.  For them, the “treaty line” signs that have been put up on the road that leads from Forks to La Push likely have a much different significance than for the fans who regularly pose by the signs, taking home photo shots that celebrate the fictionalization of a real people and once again render indigenous culture tourism fodder.

To conclude, though the stereotypical depiction of Quileute as noble-savages morphed into werewolves can be brushed off via the claim this the series is meant to be a fantasy, we cannot pretend that such depictions do not contribute to dominant notions of race shaping US culture.

The fact that the series depicts a real group of indigenous people, one that, like most indigenous groups, has been decimated by colonization, torn apart by practices such as Indian Boarding Schools, and forced to assimilate into white culture and belief systems, is problematic. The series does not touch on such history let alone address the lasting legacy of colonialism.

What if Vampires Suck doesn’t totally suck?

(This piece was originally posted at the Ms. blog here.)

It may not be brimming with hard-edged analysis, but the new parody of the Twilight series, Vampires Suck, is certainly more satirical than sucky. This parody, written and directed by Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer, has its share of what I would call “Twi-crit-light,” a nod towards serious social criticism that separates this film from the majority of parodies that are aimed primarily at making people laugh (and, thus, are more comedic than satiric).

Therefore, I was surprised at the almost entirely scathing reviews Vampires Suck received–considering that I, one who has been accused of being a “that’s-not-funny feminist,” actually found the film quite humorous. It’s true that it traded in the typical “violence is so funny” meme and was sprinkled liberally with visual puns and pop cultural references (for example, in Edward’s early semi-nude scene, his genitals are covered by a glittering disco ball). But I found most of these images to be humorous and satirical rather than inane and stale (as this round-up of various reviews suggests). Moreover, the film highlights the saga’s hypocritical obsession with pro-abstinence: Edward Sullen (a spoof version of Edward Cullen) appears as a sparkly chastity knight and Becca Crane (the parody of Bella Swan) is decked out in fishnets, a light-up bra and underwear with arrows pointing towards her genital area. As in the saga, one minute we viewers are told to keep the purity rings firmly in place, while the next moment we are encouraged to get all hot and bothered over extended petting.

The film opens with a Team Edward/Team Jacob brawl, with one girl whacking another in the head with a shovel. Mocking the team devotion of Twilighters in this and other scenes, the film trades in the obsessive fangirl stereotype in a way that is fun rather than derisive. In contrast, the mainstream media has been far more damning of Twi-hards, as documented by University of Missouri assistant professor Melissa Click in her article “Rabid”, “obsessed”, and “frenzied”: Understanding Twilight Fangirls and the Gendered Politics of Fandom.”

In Vampires Suck, Jenn Proske, the actress playing Becca, does a fine job of mimicking Bella actress Kristen Stewart’s lip biting, intensive blank stares and teen angstiness. Becca’s interactions with her father are particularly comic, highlighting the way he (and other males) treat her like a baby. In an early scene, Bella’s father carries her out to her truck in a baby carrier. Considering that Edward babies Bella throughout Twilight in a similar fashion, the satirical infantilization of her character could have become a running gag but is unfortunately dropped after the opening scenes with her father.

Mocking the saga’s pro-abstinence message, Becca is presented as sexually voracious; after first kissing Edward she demands, “Let’s go all the way.” When he brandishes his purity ring to avert her, she bites it off his finger and swallows it. In order to stop her advances, he hits her over the head with a lamp. Shortly thereafter, he says that he will never hurt her. Then he launches her through the ceiling and she lands back in the bedroom with bricks raining down on her. In this scene, Edward’s claim to be her uber-protector is shown for what it is: hypocrisy. Nice boyfriends don’t “protect” you by sabotaging your truck (as Edward does in Eclipse)–abusive ones do (as noted in Carmen Siering’s review).

The film also makes fun of Bella’s obsession with aging. She complains to Edward, “I’m 18 now. I am practically a cougar.” Making similarly humorous nods to Jacob’s shirtlessness and the latent homoeroticism of the Twilight saga, the film does not sugarcoat sexuality in the way that Stephenie Meyer’s original series does. And, at least the parody version is less heteronormative. Becca refers to Jacob as “my little gay brother;” the wolfpack gyrates flamboyantly to The Weather Girls’ hit “It’s Raining Men.” Yes, the parody uses homosexuality for comic effect, but at least this seems a step beyond the original series’ portrayal that only heterosexuals exist, a element highlighted by blogger Natalie Wilson.

The film similarly pokes fun at racial stereotypes, as when Becca tells Jacob that it “must be fun to drink and gamble all day” because he goes to school on a reservation. By mocking this tired stereotype, the movie at least nods to the fact that “life on the res” is likely something Bella (and saga author Stephenie Meyer) probably know very little about. It would have been nice if the film played up this component more; instead, it focuses on Jacob as a teen werewolf type who can’t keep his shirt on. But this is a parody, and the fact that it nods to the excessive whiteness and heteronormativity of the saga seemed to me a step in the right direction. It may not be up to par with the brilliant Edward/Buffy mash- up, but it manages to poke fun at some of the more preposterous aspects of the series–namely, that Bella is treated as an over-sexed petulant child, Edward elevated to vampire God and Jacob relegated to animalistic sidekick.

What if Female Fans Matter? Taking a Bite of Out of Twilight Backlash

(Cross posted at In Media Res)

With Eclipse due to premiere in theatres this evening, this past week has been brimming with Twilight -related events. Last week, for example, a so-called “tent-city” brimmed with fans camping out in anticipation for the Friday night Los Angeles early-release premiere. Then, on Saturday evening, the night of the lunar eclipse, Summit Entertainment hosted “Twilight Night” events around the country that included celebrity appearances, live music, and back to back screening of the first two film adaptations.

A review of San Diego’s “Twilight Night” for Blast by Conception Allen reports such events reveal Twilight “fanaticism” continues to “cause hysterics.” Describing fans’ “ardent screams” and noting those turned away once the venue had reached capacity “threw tantrums,” the piece represents fans as temperamental toddlers.

Such a tone is typical in mainstream depictions of Twilighters that rather uniformly depict fans as childish and/or hyperfeminine. Words such as hysteria, fever, obsession, and mania are often deployed – words that the recent text Bitten by Twilight: Youth Culture, Media, and the Vampire Franchise aptly describe as “Victorian era gendered words.” This rendering of the fandom in terms that simultaneously infantilize and feminize it reflects the historical repudiation of females and femininity generally and the derision targeted at female fandoms more specifically.

Scholars such as Angela McRobbie and Milly Williamson document this enduring contempt for female fans, examining how cultural studies has tended to position male fans as resisting or subverting mainstream culture while female fans are either not considered at all or framed as dupes, uber-consumers, or, most often, as silly girls. This framing is particularly apparent with regards to the Twilight fandom, with fans depicted as crazy, frenzied hordes that shriek and gasp over “anything possessing a penis.”

This gendered backlash dismisses the productive and engaged nature of Twilight fandom, allowing for widespread ridicule that is not only about not liking Twilight but also participates in the historical tendency to mock that which females enjoy (such as romance novels, soap operas, teen idols, etc).

There are, however, exceptions. For example, the Vampire-Con Film Festival (which took place June 24 through June 26 in Los Angeles) distanced itself from the Twilight phenomenon via its promotional clip. Featuring an Edward-looking vampire enjoying the viewing pleasure of fellow cinema goers by “sparkling” in the theatre, this “All bite, No Sparkle” parody distances “real” vampire fans from Twilighters in a way that is humorous rather than derisive, clever rather than mocking. Similar to the “Vampires Protest Z Day” clip that promoted Vamp-Con 2009, this year’s video relies on parody rather than attacking the Twilight fandom directly or framing fans as “silly girls.” As such, the clip proves that differing fandoms can be critical of one another or disagree about what cultural products are deserving of fans without resorting to misogynistic laced disdain.

As argued by Melissa Click, the Twilight fandom “presents an opportunity to disrupt the persistent stereotypes about girls, the media they enjoy, and their cultural activities.” As she insists, cultural studies scholars must not “let the gendered mockery of Twilight fans continue unchallenged.” I agree entirely – Twilight may sparkle, but the critique of it need not bite…