With the approaching autumnal season, my annual rewatching of the Twilight Saga will soon begin. This year, though, feels a little more important, as 2025 marks the twentieth anniversary of Stephenie Meyer’s publishing of the first book in the series. Meaning, a wide range of events and discussions are taking place to celebrate and reflect on the legacy of the franchise. Among these discussions is the ongoing debate about whether the Twilight Saga is feminist or not.
It’s no secret the Twilight books are heavily slated, especially by the older generation. The story follows Bella, a teenage girl who falls in love with Edward Cullen, a brooding, century-old vampire. Critics consistently point out that the books are badly written, the films are agonizingly slow and suggest that the franchise contains harmful and controversial ideas that we should not be encouraging teenage girls to consume. As somebody who was an avid fan during the height of my adolescence, the books hold a special place in my life as a source of continuous comfort and entertainment. That said, I can acknowledge that some of the messages conveyed through the plot are not healthy or productive. The toxic nature of our protagonist’s relationship and her overreliance on a man are among some of the valid criticisms Meyer has received for her work and should certainly not be ignored. In truth, though, I think the real reason people hate Twilight, is because, as a society, we are quick to hate on the things that teenage girls love. Whilst the books do contain some anti-feminist ideals, the hatred towards the saga is rooted in gendered prejudice.
The legacy of Twilight has shown us how many women were touched by the story and the narrative that Bella tells. There’s a sense of honesty and a rawness to the books that I think captures the essence of what it feels like to be a teenage girl. The yearning and romanticisation that many girls experience as they grow up is all too often associated with shame and stigma – but in reading a book where emotions are laid out so plainly and loudly, Twilight provides a sense of comfort and relatability. It’s why the franchise was so successful at the time, and it’s why it continues to be twenty years later. Hating on a story that has touched the lives of so many women seems dismissive to so many girls’ interests and experiences.
As readers – and as women, especially – I think it is always important to be critical about the content and media that we consume. This does not mean, though, that we dismiss every book or film where toxicity is present, as this would mean saying goodbye to many of the beloved romcoms of the 2000s and even some of the great literature classics. I advocate that instead of demonising books or movies, we acknowledge the flaws that they have (especially in the context of today’s social climate) and that we do not let these flaws allow us to feel guilty for finding solace in ‘girly’ forms of fiction.
Even people who do not like Twilight probably have some kind of equivalent – a book or film that they are shamed for enjoying. For me, and for thousands of others, Twilight will always be that guilty pleasure. Some will undoubtedly continue to pick apart every issue with Meyer’s work, but for every hater, there’s a 14-year-old discovering Twilight for the first time and finding excitement and exhilaration in reading it – the kind of excitement and exhilaration that is implicative of a book’s triumphant twenty-year legacy.