I was dreading having to read Chapter 3 in New Moon to Ben. Dreading is probably not even the right word... I'm not sure what is, but let's just say I never ever ever thought I'd find a good enough reason to make myself read that chapter again. It was bad enough (the first time)that it almost stopped me from reading the rest of the book, but somehow I managed to keep going.
Tonight I found myself having to read it out loud to a much exasperated husband. Unbelievably, this was 10 times as hard as the first time. I actually blubbered the whole way through, having to frequently stop to compose myself enough to be understandable.
I sit here wondering what in the world makes this chapter SO excrutiatingly painful and upseting to me? After all, these ARE fictional characters we're talking about... Not real, not my family or friends, not even anyone I could casually call "acquaintances!" So why all the emotional upheaval? Why is this striking such a chord?
Stephenie Meyer is a genious... that is my answer. She has been more than successfully able to capture the HORROR of having to stand idly by, watching as your own right to control your life is taken away from you... to have decisions made FOR you, against your will, in YOUR "own best interest." She is able to wrench up the unexplicable despair and helpessness that accompanies having your life turned into your own personal hell, knowing that there is nothing you can do to stop it.
I don't think I'll ever want to read this chapter ever again. As far as I'm concerned this whole entire book is just a necessary evil, born of pure necessity to create and advance a secondary plotline. I hate it... I will read it again for Ben, but I will probably never pick it up a third time.
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