Abstract
This article seeks to challenge the conventional reading of the Twilight saga as a regressive influence on young women. We argue that by drawing on themes of governmentality and fantasy, it is possible to open up the debate to consider Twilight as a text offering a fantasy space of transcending the limitations of neoliberal subjecthood. In particular, the article focuses on the figure of the vampire Edward Cullen as the carrier of anxieties around the boundaries of the autonomous subject and highlights the ways in which Bella Swan’s desire for transformation to vampire speaks to a specific set of normative neoliberal ideals for young women in the 21 st century.
Neoliberalism, Postfeminism, and the Twilight Saga
This article sets out the ways in which Twilight can be understood as producing particular forms of regulation and self-government which speak to current neoliberal discourses. We will argue that Twilight and the discourse around it can be understood through the Foucauldian concept of governmentality, which describes the complex interplay between techniques of domination of the subject and the subject’s will toward self-formation (Foucault, 1988). This argument rejects the more traditional media effects research approach, through which the masses are assumed to be overly susceptible to media influence. Rather, following Walkerdine’s (1997) productive linking of governmentality with fantasy, we explore Twilight as an object of fantasy, which speaks to a specific set of normative neoliberal ideals of the feminine self at this time.
The Twilight saga is a series of fantasy novels set in the present day, in which vampires and other supernatural beings live alongside humans but keep their identities secret. The novels are narrated by Bella Swan, an 18-year-old high school student who had gone to live with her father in a small town on the Pacific West Coast of America. In the course of the four novels, Bella falls in love with Edward Cullen, a vampire, experiences a series of romantic difficulties and other obstacles, and is eventually transformed into a vampire herself after giving birth to Edward’s child. The predominantly female consumers of Twilight are often constructed as passive and easily influenced subjects, with images of hysterical fandom dominating media reports. This follows what has been argued to be a tendency within “media effects” research to assume that certain people are less rational, more suggestible, and have less critical awareness of media content (Blackman & Walkerdine, 2001, p. 41). Where, for example, Housel (2009) argues that Twilight produces “a dangerously romanticized fantasy for a primarily young female audience,” romanticism of an abusive relationship, we suggest that a more nuanced reading is necessary (p. 178). Our argument is that rather than simply positioning young girls as being duped and misled, Twilight and the discourse around it provides a fantasy resolution for the negotiation of some of the problems and pressures that young women face today; a fantasy resolution that reflects and reproduces some specifically neoliberal values and aspirations.
Rosalind Gill (2008a) has argued that “the autonomous, calculating, self-regulating subject of neoliberalism bears a strong resemblance to the active, freely choosing, self-reinventing subject of postfeminism” (p. 443). Gill suggests that both are structured by what she terms a current of individualism. Within this discourse, women are represented as active, desiring subjects, yet subject to “a level of scrutiny and hostile surveillance that has no historical precedent” (Gill, 2008a, p. 442). Here, we argue that the narrative of Bella’s desire for transformation to vampire in the Twilight saga exemplifies the link between neoliberalism and postfeminist media culture identified by writers such as Gill (2003, 2008a, 2008b), McRobbie (2008), and Chen (2013). Chen (2013), for example, explores the ways in which freedom and agency in the popular context has come to represent a willing participation in prescribed patriarchal heterosexual norms and capitalist commodity culture. From early on in the narrative, Bella’s fear of the vampires is overridden by her desire to become vampire herself, or more specifically to join the Cullens, who have organized themselves into a version of the nuclear family. Wrapped up in fear of the other, there is also envy (Jackson, 1981), and it is not difficult to see why Bella might envy the Cullens. These vampires possess a host of qualities presented as desirable: They are beautiful, like fashion models, physically strong and resilient, graceful and skillful, very rich, and remain forever young. Conveniently for the narrative, they are even able to go out in the daytime, only having to avoid direct sunlight. In contrast, the world for the human Bella is not a particularly attractive place. She is presented as a loner who does not get on well easily with others, she is short of money and will not be able to afford entrance to an elite college, and she is physically awkward. Within Twilight’s narrative, becoming a vampire is a move toward rather than away from normative values. We propose then that Twilight offers a fantasy space of negotiation and resolution to the limitations of neoliberal, postfeminist discourses of autonomy and choice.
Beyond Twilight as an Abusive Romance
Twilight could be viewed as promoting an abusive relationship using the formula of a mass market romance; however, here we argue that a key theme that challenges this interpretation is Bella Swan’s desire for self-transformation. At the beginning of the narrative, Bella is an awkward, clumsy teenager, who describes herself as a loner who does not relate well to people (Meyer, 2005). The story begins on familiar territory then, with the twin themes of the lonely outsider fitting in with a new crowd and the high school romance. On her first day at her new school, Bella meets Edward Cullen, a teenage vampire who is able to hide his true identity in this rainy, gloomy town as, in this reworking of the myth, vampires are able to go out in the daytime but need only to avoid direct sunlight. Bella falls quickly in love with the beautiful, aloof, and tortured 17-year-old Edward, who she describes rather disturbingly as “… absurdly handsome-with piercing hate filled eyes” (Meyer, 2005, p. 24). As a love object, Edward is both irresistible and frightening to Bella, who comments that, “I was still frightened of the hostility I sometimes felt emanating from him, and I was tongue tied when I pictured his perfect face” (Meyer, 2005, p. 46). Edward is charming and able to manipulate others easily, human and vampire, as he possesses the ability to read minds. However, he is unable to read Bella’s mind, and Bella is revealed subsequently to be resistant to the efforts of other vampires to control her through nonconscious means, a point which we will return to.
As their relationship develops, Edward’s attention toward Bella is not only intense, romantic, and attentive but also overprotective at times; he has the habit, for example, of following her from a distance in his car (Meyer, 2005) and breaking into her house to watch her sleep at night (Meyer, 2005), feeling the need to keep her safe when she ventures out alone or to places he considers dangerous. Edward makes undermining comments (Meyer, 2005), is jealous and tries to curtail Bella's movements, and is physically pushy, on one occasion dragging her to his car at the end of school when she wishes to drive home alone (Meyer, 2005). Such characterizations inform the argument that Twilight represents a distorted version of a romantic relationship (see Collins & Carmody, 2011; Merskin, 2011). Merskin (2011), for example, suggests Twilight presents a dangerous psychopath as “good boyfriend material” (p. 374). Twilight for Merskin represents a bad influence on young girls which places them psychically and physically in danger. While we acknowledge that this is one potential reading, and of course that the issue of the abuse of women is a serious one, we would argue that such arguments might be characterized as a rather simplistic media effects approach. Here, we suggest that it is a mistake to judge Twilight merely as an example of the promotion of a regressive view of relationships.
The Cullen family are different from other vampires in that they have managed to exert rational control over their hunger for human blood and found a way to survive on animal blood only, presenting themselves as the vegetarian alternative. Becoming a member of the Cullen family therefore conveniently presents no unbridgeable ethical issues for Bella. Twilight’s vampires are certainly portrayed as outsiders in the town in which they live semi-integrated lives; however, these vampires suffer none of the usual problems of social marginality. In contrast, Bella Swan experiences the world as a frightening place, particularly the world inhabited by men who are intent on harming her. On two occasions, she finds herself alone after dark in the city and is almost immediately surrounded by dangerous men intent on raping and killing her. This sense of danger is obviously shared by other young women to the extent that going into a bar in a downtown area is described as “crazy” and “suicidal” (Meyer, 2006, p. 98). As noted by Taylor (2012), Bella’s vulnerability positions her as “a teenage female body, hyper-visible and subject to the male gaze” in a patriarchal society (p. 35). In reaction to the dangers that she is forced to negotiate on the streets, transformation into a vampire offers a very appealing strength and invulnerability. Joining the family also enables Bella to leave her financially and socially marginal position and to replace it with a bourgeois fairy tale (Meyer, 2008).
Bella’s desire, then, is not subversive but deeply conventional. In an essay comparing Bella Swan’s trajectory with that of U.S. vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin, Zack (2009) points out that Twilight follows the form of a fairy tale which is “harnessed to the desires, yearnings and aspirations of women in the early 21 st century” (p. 123). Arguing that feminists need to pay heed to the actual desires and aspirations of women, Zack lists three things which she perceives are important to young American women, “practicing heterosexuality in the form of fulfilled romantic love and fertility; looking good according to the prevailing beauty norms of consumer culture; and attaining power in the world as it is, not as it should be” (p. 125). In her analysis of women’s magazines, Blackman (2004) suggests that magazines present women with “the necessity of self-transformation,” through a neoliberal injunction “that privileges their engagement in practices of self-monitoring, evaluation, scrutiny and bodily, emotional and/or psychological transformation in order to achieve certain desired ends” (p. 230). Taking this approach, we consider how themes in the Twilight saga are in fact in keeping with what has been identified by various writers and researchers as a contemporary pressure in neoliberal societies to work toward self-transformation for the purpose of self-actualization (see Heyes, 2007; Nadesan, 2008; Rimke, 2000; Rose, 1999).
Bella’s emphasis on her personal choice and desire for self-transformation to vampire remains constant throughout the Twilight saga. In the first three novels, Bella’s demands to become vampire are repeatedly refused by Edward. It is Edward who desires marriage, his proposals are rejected, and in this way Bella’s desire is constructed in opposition to Edward’s desire which is for the normative romantic resolution. We argue that within Twilight, the desire of Bella Swan to be transformed into a vampire can be read as not simply the romanticization of an abusive relationship, but as reproducing specific neoliberal, postfeminist strategies for young women in terms of self-transformation and sexual fulfillment. Moving beyond a media effects approach, we argue that the Twilight saga presents a space of fantasy and governmentality which can be understood as providing a resolution to anxieties which are tied to current neoliberal exhortations to work on and transform the feminine self as a project of self-transformation (McRobbie, 2011).
The Resignification of the Vampire
Twilight, rather than simply providing a romanticized example of an abusive relationship, can be understood both as projecting anxieties about the injunctions of neoliberal postfeminist discourse onto the figure of the vampire and as providing a resolution to these anxieties. Auerbach (1995) argues that the vampire is never a consistent historical figure but that it functions as a repository for the fears and concerns which circulate at any given period. There is a lively Internet debate about whether Edward Cullen is an abusive and controlling boyfriend, and the possible effect of this representation on young female fans. This is an excerpt from a self-authored Web site: While reading Twilight, New Moon and now Eclipse, I was disturbed by the amount of “warning signs” or “red flags” in the relationship between Bella and Edward. My concern is that he is too controlling, and that impressionable Cullen fans might be accepting of such behavior in real life.
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It is true that Edward Cullen is a moody and dangerous lover. Arguably, the figure of the vampire has come to represent the modern version of the dangerous lover through a lineage of what Merskin (2011) describes as the “Hollywood form of the romantic vampire bad boy” (p. 159). As noted by Lutz (2006), in line with a certain tradition of the Byronic hero, the dangerous lover narrative has become the conventional way to represent erotic desire and romantic love. The Byronic hero and the romantic vampire bad boy have much in common. In many ways, Twilight does follow the traditional romance narrative identified by Modleski in her 1990 study of mass market romances. The heroine is initially confused by the hero’s behavior in that despite his obvious interest, he is mocking, cynical, contemptuous, often hostile, and even somewhat brutal. By the end, all misunderstandings are cleared away and the couple reunite. What complicates the romance formula is the way in which the heroine resists her positioning.
The fourth novel, Eclipse (Meyer, 2007), concludes with Bella reluctantly agreeing to marry Edward who has set matrimony as the condition for her potential transformation. In the concluding novel Breaking Dawn (Meyer, 2008), Bella conceives a child on the honeymoon, undergoes a rapidly progressed and life-threatening pregnancy, and finally attains her desire when she is made a vampire to save her life after the birth of their child. What challenges the interpretations of Twilight in terms of the mass romance formula, and of simply promoting an abusive relationship to a young female audience, is Bella’s unrelenting desire for her own transformation. Although Twilight can be understood as conforming to genre in producing a tortured, obsessive hero, here we are interested in how the figure of the vampire is resignified to represent both normative neoliberal ideals and fears about forms of affective communication and transmission which have a longer lineage throughout the 19 th and 20 th centuries (Blackman, 2012).
We propose that the figure of Edward Cullen as an abusive and controlling boyfriend can be understood as the carrier of particular fears and anxieties about the limits of our emotional self-containment and personal agency. What might be our capacity to be possessed and controlled by an external force or influence? These concerns are part of a longer history of anxieties about the boundaries of the individual and the limits of free will which have emerged in various forms, that is, in the figure of the vampire, the brainwasher, the charismatic cult leader, the hypnotist, and significantly, the abusive and controlling man. Melley (2011) describes the emergence of “brainwashing” in the 1950s as an expression of anxiety about the individual autonomy so prized in America as a cornerstone of its resistance to Communism and as a modern interpretation of older notions of “demonic possession, mesmerism and hypnosis” (p. 25). Although he diverges greatly from the classic image of the vampire, Edward can be read as the carrier of some contemporary anxieties about, as well as fascination with, current discursive limits of autonomy and free will. These, we argue in the next section, are articulated within contemporary self-help discourse around the abusive and controlling relationship, through which girls and women are exhorted to govern and regulate themselves as subjects who are particularly susceptible to affective forces.
The Intersection of Governmentality and Fantasy
Twilight can be productively analyzed through the concept of governmentality, in the Foucauldian sense of the term. Governmentality is not a top-down theory of power but refers to the multiple ways in which people’s conduct is shaped and regulated by a variety of agencies and knowledges, such as psychological knowledge, with a particular emphasis on our apparent autonomy and freedom of choice (Rose, 1999, p. 89). It is through this powerful fiction of an autonomous self which is “strongly bounded … less reliant on others and able to make and exercise choice in the decisions it makes about work, relationships, leisure and so forth” (Blackman & Walkerdine, 2001, p. 4) that we make sense of ourselves, seek to transform ourselves, and are regulated in relation to a set of norms. In a range of recent work, it has been argued that the current emphasis on working on the self for the purpose of self-actualization, through self-help, makeover, or advice shows on television can be understood as an aspect of contemporary neoliberal governmentality (Heyes, 2007; Ouellette, 2004; Rimke, 2000). It is in this sense that we explore Bella’s desire for transformation to vampire. Our analysis will focus on normalizing discourses of gender, romance, and the institutions of the family in the Twilight novels. We draw on the work of Miller (1998), which extends the scope of governmentality to include the analysis of popular fantasy fiction, film, and television. Miller’s “fictocritical” analysis (p. 12) draws on Foucault’s (1988) contention that what are understood as fictions can produce powerful truth effects. Miller emphasizes Foucault’s reference to the fictionality of all knowledges and theories in order to argue that popular cultural forms are important sites where truth is produced, and citizens are governed and regulated.
Building on Miller’s (1998) emphasis on the significance of the popular to the production of subjectivity, we will develop an analysis of Twilight’s appeal by turning to psychoanalytic theories of fantasy. We will draw on the work of Walkerdine (1990, 1993, 1995, 1997), which brings together a Foucauldian view of the subject as produced through a set of powerful fictions which take the form of scientific and psychological knowledges and practices of regulation, and a psychoanalytic model through which these regulating knowledges and practices are understood as “imbued with fantasy” 2 (Walkerdine, 1995, p. 325). This approach enables us to consider “the emotional, unconscious aspects” of the ways in which subjects negotiate the social world, rather than assuming “a simple cognitive agent who makes sense of a social world” (Walkerdine, 1997, p. 56).
Housel (2009) argues that Twilight is dangerous because it portrays an abusive relationship in an accessible, realist style that appeals to young women. In her analysis, the apparent suggestibility of the young female audience is mirrored by the character of Bella, whose “self-worth” is undermined by Edward such that she is prepared to bind herself to him, like any woman suffering domestic abuse in silence (Housel, 2009, p. 181). Housel goes on to describe Twilight as “an account of a young woman being subjected to violence, stalking and brainwashing leading to initiation into a cult-like family” (p. 178). This particular reading of Twilight reflects wider discussion about what are commonly described as abusive and controlling relationships and how to deal with them. This discussion takes place through the practice of relationship self-help, facilitated by books, Web sites, and online discussion boards which analyze and suggest solutions to various problems in heterosexual couple relationships.
Through these self-help practices, women are encouraged to be on their guard against the charismatic, manipulative man, who has the capacity to control women through forms of psychological coercion sometimes aligned with a “cult” dynamic (see Lalich & Tobias, 2006, p. 72) and labeled as a type of brainwashing (see Bancroft, 2002; Evans, 1996). A very recent example is the case of British comedian, Justin Lee Collins, who was convicted of harassing his girlfriend Anna Larke. In relation to this case, an article on the BBC News Magazine Web site (Westcott, 2012) described psychological abuse in couple relationships as a form of brainwashing through which the abuser hypnotises his partner, making it difficult for her to realize her situation before it is too late. Self-help discourse around abusive relationships can be understood then, as a form of governmentality, through which women are assumed to be open and susceptible to nonconscious forces and through which they are controlled and manipulated, and against which they therefore need to be on guard. Here, we argue that Twilight not only reflects current self-help discourse, but that watching, reading, and discussing Twilight can be understood in itself as participating in self-governance.
Twilight as Self-Government
Governmentality theory is easy to apply to media representations of physical and psychological self-transformation, but how might an overt fantasy be understood as a mode of self-governance? Miller (1998) argues that popular culture as a whole is an important site for the establishment of the truths through which we understand and work on ourselves as particular types of individual, and that, furthermore, media sites do not contain only one viewpoint but are places where the truth of the self is actively contested and negotiated. Hence, “The texts we read, the ways we read them, and the uses we make of those readings, are produced by converging and diverging procedures that govern us … ” (Miller, 1998, p. 13, italics in original).
In line with Miller’s (1998) aforementioned fictocritical approach, Twilight can be understood as promoting specific kinds of self-government. Our contention is that the Twilight saga does not simply represent an abusive relationship as a romantic one, but that at numerous points in the narrative, the relationship between Bella and Edward is opened up for scrutiny and discussion, a discussion which is framed within a wider discourse around control and abuse in couple relationships. The character of Bella Swan, who has already been set up as a vulnerable outsider with self-esteem problems, herself takes a harsh view of her own susceptibility to Edward Cullen. She regards herself as weak and stupid, stating that her feelings for Edward “bothered her deeply” (Meyer, 2006, p. 51). She judges her own feelings toward him critically, calling herself “Stupid stupid stupid” (Meyer, 2005, p. 57) and “pitiful” (2005, p. 59). She states that “I couldn’t allow him to have this level of influence over me. It was pathetic. More than pathetic, it was unhealthy” (2005, p. 63). Bella is aware of her own vulnerability toward Edward and feels the need to be “on her guard” against him (2005, p. 240).
Bella’s father shows concern about the intensity of their relationship and encourages her to work on balancing it with other friendships (Meyer, 2007). Bella’s mother notices that there is a protective streak in Edward that makes her feel uneasy (Meyer, 2007). Worried about Bella’s apparent submissiveness to Edward, her friend Jacob tries to talk to her about a news item on “controlling, abusive teenage relationships” (Meyer, 2007, p. 198). There is, then, evidence of an active debate within the narrative about the problem of Bella’s susceptibility to Edward, one which reflects wider concerns about the susceptibility of young people to control within intimate relationships. However, this need to defend her autonomy does not preclude the desire for Edward to transform her into a vampire.
To sum up so far: Twilight’s abusive and controlling vampire represents a contemporary emergence of some recurrent fears and anxieties over the limits of the affectively self-contained subject (Brennan, 2004). How can women identify the controlling man, identify their own unconscious tendencies to be controlled and emotionally manipulated, and protect themselves against him? Our argument is that Twilight, even though it entertains some deeply conservative and regressive views on relationships, is also a site where these truths are contested and negotiated. In the final section, we will focus on the particular appeal of Twilight as a fantasy, and how this might be read in terms of a wider context of the desires of young women today and also the pressures on them to conform in certain ways to neoliberal requirements, including the management of their own susceptibility to affective processes.
Fantasy Resolutions
In this section, we draw on Walkerdine’s (1990, 1993, 1995, 1997) analysis of the significance of fantasy in popular culture. We argue that the transformation of Bella Swan into a vampire can be understood as a fantasy which is framed within neoliberal strategies of self-governance. First, it is worth explaining some of the key points of Walkerdine’s approach to fantasy, as it is understood in psychoanalytic terms. It is important to point out that Walkerdine rejects the tendency of some psychoanalytic theory to assume a universal psychological subject. In its place, she develops a framework that takes into account a Foucauldian analysis of the social production of subjects through “fictional” discourses, while arguing that these discourses themselves are “imbued with fantasy” (Walkerdine, 1995, p. 325). This framework draws on Lacan’s reworking of the Freudian unconscious as a signifying system through which fictional identities are produced (Blackman & Walkerdine, 2001).
Lacan understands the inauguration of the subject as brought about through entry into the symbolic order which precedes it, and thus gives a psychical account of the production of subjectivity in language. Popular culture can then be understood not only as site of governmentality but also as a mode of “social fantasy” (Walkerdine, 1997, p. 179) through which socially and historically contingent fantasies about the subject circulate. Cultural texts such as Twilight symbolically present resolutions to what Walkerdine (1990) defines as “psychic conflicts lived out in fantasy situations” (p. 88). These fantasies in themselves need to be understood as produced within a complex set of discursive relations through which subjectivity is produced. This means that fantasies, such as Twilight’s romantic and transformatory ones, can be understood as something different to “the illusory tropes of an oppressive ideology” (Walkerdine, 1990, p. 200) through which young girls are duped and influenced.
Freudian psychoanalysis understands fantasy as closely linked to the wishes/desire of the subject, and desire is understood as arising from the infant’s earliest needs for food and comfort. On experiencing satisfaction of that need, the infant’s desire becomes attached to the external object which satisfied the need. Constant satisfaction of desire is impossible to achieve, but the infant deals with this by calling up the memory of satisfaction, described as a “hallucinatory cathecting of the memory of satisfaction” which is the origin of fantasy, understood as a defense against loss (Laplanche & Pontalis, 1973/1988, p. 314). Fantasy takes the form of the return of repressed memories to consciousness, in the form of “compromise formations,” through which the memory is modified so as to defend the integrity of the individual, thus satisfying both desire and defense (Laplanche & Pontalis, 1973/1988, p. 76). Fantasy also takes the form of “projection” whereby “qualities, feelings, wishes or even objects which the subject refuses to recognize or rejects in himself are expelled from the self and located in another person or thing” (Laplanche & Pontalis, 1973/1988, p. 349). In Lacan’s reworking of Freudian psychoanalysis, desire indicates an impossible return to the unity with the mother which is sacrificed through entry into the symbolic order (Blackman & Walkerdine, 2001). Jackson (1981) thus describes fantasy as compensating “ … for a lack resulting from cultural constraints” (pp. 3–4).
Walkerdine (1990), however, differs from this rather pessimistic and determinist Lacanian position. As part of her critique of the ways in which working class viewers had been positioned as “infantile” and escapist through this overly determinist Lacanian reading, she argues that “ … [we] should start to look at fantasy spaces as places for hope and for escape from oppression as well” (Walkerdine, 1990, p. 200). Fantasy is thus reimagined as a space which although socially contingent, and having a “defensive” role against the pain and suffering of experience (Walkerdine, 1995, p. 326), is not only a reflection of the impossible aspirations of entirely determined subjects. This overly determinist analysis is, we would argue, put forward by Williamson (2005) in her detailed and comprehensive analysis of vampire fan communities. Williamson asserts that vampire fans’ subversive fantasies of individualization through transformation into vampires are ultimately doomed to failure. This is because, although we have absorbed the ideological requirement to develop ourselves as individuals, “self-actualization runs counter to the ethos of capitalism” (Williamson, 2005, p. 185).
In distinction, Walkerdine’s (1993) approach seeks to open up the possibility of movement and change within the “fictional” discourses through which subjects are produced as “neither totally free to transform their own lives, not totally determined by the factual and fictional narratives and discourses in which they are inscribed” (p. 87). In this way, fantasy can be reconceived as a place which, although complex and contradictory, indicates hope and the possibility of transformation. We will take up the frameworks outlined above in order to develop a reading of Twilight as a narrative which not only explores the possibility of self-transformation through the trope of transformation into a vampire but also defends what are understood to be the boundaries of the neoliberal subject.
It is in this sense that we argue the Twilight novels reflect and promote a complex discourse of the neoliberal feminine self who desires self-transformation but not at the cost of her autonomy and ability to defend against the influence of others. Self-help and makeover shows intimately link the making of the neoliberal feminine subject with consumption, legitimizing particular performances of the feminine self (Zayer, Sredl, Parmentier, & Coleman, 2012). For Gill (2008a), the “makeover paradigm constitutes postfeminist media culture” with women interpellated as flawed subjects requiring transformation through appropriate consumption habits (p. 441). Reflecting this theme, Bella’s transformation into a vampire is presented not only as a way in which she can be with her new lover forever on equal terms but also as a form of personal empowerment and self-realization, of making “the choices that work for her” (Meyer, 2005, p. 414). Significantly, when Bella finally becomes a vampire, the endpoint of the transformation is presented as a version of the “reveal” sequence in a television makeover show, of the kind which is imbued with the qualities of the fairytale ending (Heyes, 2007, p. 26). Bella is handed a mirror in which she sees her new self as “indisputably beautiful,” “flawless,” with “smooth and strong” limbs and “luminous” skin (Meyer, 2008, p. 372). The transformation into vampire is understood as enhancing qualities already possessed in the human form “ … we all bring something of our strongest human traits with us into the next life where they are intensified” (Meyer, 2005, p. 268). This is comparable with what Heyes (2007) argues is the obligation in TV makeover shows to conform with the narrative of plastic surgery as bringing out, rather than effacing “individual authenticity” (p. 21).
One of the controversial themes of Twilight is that Bella needs to control her own sexual desire in order to stop Edward Cullen from losing control and killing her (Meyer, 2005). In this way, the narrative could be argued to fit with the Gothic version of the vampire as the embodiment of sexual desire which is repressed and disavowed within the bourgeois family structure, a structure which “gives rise to its own undead” (Jackson, 1981, p. 120). Here, we argue that sexual desire plays a different role in this narrative: Rather than being entirely located in the figure of the vampire, Bella’s desire for Edward features significantly (Meyer, 2005) and in the end she achieves a fulfilling sex life (Meyer, 2008, p. 447). The narrative of self-control informs the characterization of the vampire in Twilight through, for example, Edward’s need to protect Bella from his own desire, and through the Cullen family whose integration in the human community is predicated on their ability to control their desires. Bella, though represented as feeble and insecure in many ways, possesses the ability to defend herself against the vampires’ various esoteric powers, in a manner which echoes the neoliberal obligation to conduct our lives as autonomous, bounded individuals. Significantly, Bella’s transformation enhances her ability to mentally shield herself and her group from psychic manipulation by other vampires who, in a final battle scene, attempt to control them through psychic means (Meyer, 2008).
It is pertinent that Bella has never been entirely impervious to affective forms of manipulation: She has always been unable to resist the vampire Jasper’s ability to control the emotional atmosphere around him. In this respect, she is represented as open to some affective processes. Although this might seem contradictory, it could be argued to fit well with contemporary normative expectations for the healthy individual to possess certain kinds of emotional flexibility such as empathy for the other, while maintaining boundaries against other forms of affective transfer which are labeled as psychopathology (Blackman, 2005). At the very end of the series, after Bella’s transformation and after a battle in which vampire enemies have been beaten, her relationship with telepathy changes. In the absence of the fear caused by her unequal relationship with Edward, Bella is able to resist “the automatic instinct to preserve self above all else” (Meyer, 2008, p. 698) and open her mind to being read by Edward, inaugurating a new kind of closeness which is understood as enhancing their intimacy. In this way, Bella is produced as possessing a normative, feminine kind of empathy while retaining her autonomy.
We argue then that in Twilight the vampire, represents the desire for self-transformation understood as self-realization and provides the means to carry this out. As a vampire, Bella really can have what she wants and after her transformation states: “I am purely full of joy, because I am missing nothing. No-one has more than I do now” (Meyer, 2008, p. 448, italics in original). She has everything as a woman, as a mother, and as a desiring subject without any real sacrifice: She gains physical perfection, mastery over aging, an enhanced sex life, and the absolute and unconditional and undying love of her partner, and conquers her own vulnerability, all in the context of a nuclear family. As well as achieving perfection in various areas of her life, Bella is able to eradicate the vulnerability that has been a limiting feature of her humanity. She can now live with “No caution, no restraint. No fear-especially not that. We could love together-both active participants now. Finally equals” (Meyer, 2008, p. 446, italics in original). Far from romanticizing unequal power relations then, we argue that Twilight provides a fantasy narrative for how problems of unequal power in relationships can be resolved, and that fantasy involves transformation into the neoliberal postfeminist self par excellence, an individual who can be transformed but can also retain the required kind of self-autonomy and affective self-containment, and who through this transformation can meet all of her desires: for material wealth, motherhood, and a fulfilling sex life.
Conclusion
We have argued that Twilight can be understood as producing particular forms of regulation and self-government which speak to current neoliberal discourse. Drawing on theories of governmentality and fantasy, we suggest that Twilight offers a fantasy space for the resolution of the issues and regulatory constraints of the neoliberal feminine self who can be transformed but can also retain self-autonomy. As argued by Gill (2008a), “representations matter,” and their relationship to subjectivity is too important for critical scholars to ignore (p. 434). This article then seeks to contribute to the examination of the complex relationship between popular culture and subjectivity. We argue that Twilight can be understood as a fantasy which is regulatory yet enables us to consider “the emotional, unconscious aspects” of the ways in which subjects negotiate the social world, rather than assuming “a simple cognitive agent who makes sense of a social world” (Walkerdine, 1997, p. 56).
Through this analysis, we argue that the figure of the vampire in Twilight coheres around fears over indirect modes of control and manipulation which are problematized in relationship self-help. The resolution of the narrative in Twilight can be interpreted as a fantasy which fits well with neoliberal aims of self-transformation as expressed in makeover shows and self-help books, a transformation through which, paradoxically, flexibility and change serve the requirement for authenticity and autonomy. Rather than presenting a doomed fantasy of individual transformation, Twilight reflects and reproduces contemporary governmental strategies through which subjectivity is produced. While Twilight can be understood as reflecting normative notions of neoliberal postfeminist self-actualization, we propose that Twilight as a fantasy object can be read “in such a way as to render women neither passive, docile subjects, nor the fictitious autonomous, freely choosing persons of liberal humanism” (Gill, 2008b, p. 40). In this way, we understand fantasy as productive rather than merely escapist—both implicated in systems of government. Through this analysis, we conclude that the Twilight novels can be engaged with as a fantasy of transcending the limitations of neoliberal subjecthood, particularly the limitations faced by young women rather than nothing more than a regressive influence on young women.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The authors received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
