INTRODUCTION
Undead Wisdom
Freud once claimed that love and death mark the driving forces of human existence. Having fallen in love with the undead of Twilight, we might well say the same thing about this vampire tale. The Twilight books confront love and death, and so much more, in a way that facilitates a strange recognition—that the dead are indeed wise, and that they are sometimes wise in matters of the heart, even when that heart doesn’t beat. The strange beauty of Twilight lies here, as elsewhere: we are all faced with death, and we all desire to love. These two facts—one deeply unpleasant, the other quite pleasant—are evident in Twilight. This makes for great reading, and as you will soon see, it also provides great philosophical opportunities.
Death is everywhere. It is between any two syllables, waiting to choke the final breath out of you. It is a force like no other: inescapable, ineffable, and absolute—at least for mere mortals. Death captivates. It haunts. The thought that somehow death might not master us enchants the mind until we find ourselves drawn again and again to the hope that we might escape our fate—by being made immortal vampires, or finding an afterlife, or through a scientific “cure” for death. There is little as powerful as the thought of death, and probably little that motivates us in the way that our mortality does.
Except perhaps love. The existentialist philosopher Albert Camus (1913-1960) once claimed that the only real philosophical question was whether or not to kill yourself in the face of an absurd world. The writer Tom Robbins thinks one can only answer this question with one even more basic: Are you able to love? For love, Robbins suggests, is the only thing that makes life worth living. Love allows us to see things we could never see without it. It shapes our perceptions of the world and enables us to be open to deep, meaningful experiences. It can change a humdrum little town in Washington into a world of wonder.
In the world of Twilight, death is not inevitable, and the purest form of love seems to have been found. Such a world not only allows an exploration of the human condition—facing our deepest and darkest fears, as well as our highest hopes. It also demands that we explore our condition—and there is no better companion for such an exploration than philosophy.
The Twilight saga is full of love and death, as well as a host of other topics central to the way we understand ourselves and navigate the world. Philosophical issues permeate the pages of the Twilight books. Bella and Edward are a mirror for our greatest fears and hopes—for all that can go right with our lives and all that can go wrong. They are the human condition writ large, there for our reflection and exploration.
Perhaps surprisingly, we have a lot to learn from the undead, as well as from the way they relate to the living—about ourselves, our experiences, and our relationships with other people. This book aims to help you with just that, asking such questions as: What is the nature of love? Is death something to be feared? How should feminists react to Bella Swan? Is there a moral obligation to be vegetarian? What is it like to experience the world as a vampire? What does it mean to be a person? How free are we?
Forks, Washington, is a small town; unfortunately, minds can be very small places, too. But philosophy has a way of opening up both: It allows us to see what we hadn’t seen before and allows us to explore issues we might not otherwise explore. Only literature rivals philosophy in this capacity, making our examination of the Twilight saga the perfect place for literature and philosophy to meet.
So whether you’re a fan of Edward Cullen or Jacob Black, believe Bella a fool or a romantic, or are a vegan or a carnivore, keep reading! You’ll enjoy chapters on everything from why we love vampires to how Edward is a Byronic hero to the Tao of Jacob, and much more.