Finished.

A friend and I were discussing Breaking Dawn while I finished reading it. She claims, despite her pending PhD in literature, that it is one of the "best books ever written."

There are a lot of things to like about it. It ties things up neatly without seeming to make it too tidy. Many things that started in the first book (Bella's ability to "block" Edward's ability, for one) are brought forth as more important than they were originally. This just emphasizes the issue I take with the movie's downplaying of Edward's mind-reading. In Twilight, Edward has a lot of fun with his ability (blocking Bella in the parking lot so that Tyler can ask her out, for one). He is also tortured over not being able to hear Bella's thoughts.

Breaking Dawnalso finally does something of value with Jacob, rather than just string him along and give Bella a reason to torture herself and Edward. I can't imagine anyone not getting tired of that in Eclipse, but of course, now it comes to make a bit of sense. He was drawn to her in a family way.

While I agree that 4 is a better book in every way I can think of than 3, there is something about Bella that I like less here. I was so tired of her loving Jacob and paining all three of them, but in the last book, she seems to be virtually without flaw. She does nothing wrong, she does nothing for herself, she thinks only of others, and her only moments of weakness come late at night in the private of the bedroom she shares with Edward.

If there is one thing I understand about reading novels, one thing I keep myself aware of as I read them, is which character I am following and how the author and the text keep me interested in them, make me sympathetic toward them, make me understand them. As I've already discussed, I am as interested in Bella as anything else in this book. But Bella-who-does-no-wrong bothers me. Readers tolerate Harry Potter's moral authority because he makes tactical mistakes, and goofs when it comes to girls and he needs his friends.

But Bella doesn't mind dying for her baby, won't show Edward how painful either the transformation or the pregnancy are, has supernatural (counting vampires as the natural here) self-control and makes none of the common mistakes new vampires make, she ends up having the power to save everyone on her side of the battle.

I teach a lot of violent literature and I understand that violence serves an important purpose in texts. Who a character is in a violent situation is the real essence of who they are. This is why people often feign wishing that someone would threaten their life so they could see how they partner would react. This is part of the reason that people like action movies, so they could see an accelerated, amped-up version of life, so they could imagine behaving heroic in ways beyond their usual helping of old ladies and changing a girl's tires.

And yes, violence brings out the truth in people, reveals the truth of a person. And yes, Bella is now a mother, which makes her believably self-sacrificing. She just seems too perfect to be believable and likable.

But, the ending, the over-the-top happy ending is satisfying. Things have been trying enough. The other half-vampire's sudden appearance did seem too convenient, once I considered it, but it wasn't bothersome. The honeymoon sort-of set that up and there was no other way to be sure that nothing bad would happen to the baby. And, to be sure, nothing bad could happen to a baby. That is a rule of American texts of all kinds. And we've been reading a love story, though there are many times in the last book that the romance seems to come second or third to other elements, but surely I haven't forgotten that epic love story and what I've wanted from the first book is for them to end up happy together forever.

So they do. And it is, as I said, a bit overdone. But satisfying. Especially as I now reread them. Knowing, from that first awkward moment in Biology class that things do, somehow, work out, I think will make it interesting in a different way. Often, knowing the ending can make a text less interesting, but in this case, I find it comforting.

I tire of Jacob.

Our author has gone to great lengths, both from Bella's and from Jacob's positions to explain and justify these two characters' foolish behavior in regard to one another. Those great lengths tell me something. That their behavior is, in fact, foolish, but necessary to maintain the overall plot plan. So, she feels the need to explain them, repeatedly.

In fact, there is more time devoted to that than to many other, shall I say, logistical complications that arise in Books 3 and 4.

Jacob says, so many times, that he knows that he is only hurting himself more by being around Bella, but he can't say no to her, can't walk away from her. He gets mad sometimes that she is nice to him. She gets mad at herself for being nice to him. Edward, though, doesn't get mad at either of them. Because he understands, of course, Jacob's love for Bella, and he is jealous but not afraid to lose her.

Then why does she do it? Why does do things she knows are painful to everyone she loves, only to feel bad for them, only to have both Jacob and Edward comfort her in order to keep her from feeling bad. She has this huge tearful goodbye with Jacob and cries to Edward about it.

She really, seriously, cries to Edward about it. And we are supposed to forget this because she says she felt bad Edward had to see it?

Maybe I don't tire of Jacob who, eventually, has stopped being so hard on Bella and stopped trying to pull her in two, stopped bringing attention to all the self-ascribed noble deeds. He has started merely protecting her. I certainly tire of Bella's behavior and their reasoning.

She has Edward, why does he keep up this half relationship with Jacob? This relationship that cannot be, that will never be?

I'm not even talking about the weirdness this all begets in Book 4. We'll get there.