A Journey Through Edward’s Perspective: A Review of Midnight Sun
When I first heard that Stephenie Meyer was revisiting the Twilight universe through Edward’s eyes with Midnight Sun, I had a familiar flutter of excitement mixed with skepticism. Would this be a fresh take on a beloved saga, or a nostalgic walk into the cringeworthy moments of teenage obsession? Well, let’s just say my journey through its pages was as tumultuous as the characters’ relationships themselves.
Midnight Sun attempts to rekindle the intense, if often agonizing, romance between Edward and Bella from his perspective. Through his brooding thoughts and obsessive nature, we dive deep into the turmoil of his immortal existence, characterized by self-doubt and guilt—who knew a vampire could be this melodramatic? But as I read, I couldn’t help but echo the sentiments of a fellow reader: the book felt longer than it had any right to be. At nearly 700 pages, it drags in parts, primarily occupied by Edward’s angst-ridden monologues about Bella. A perfect example of a love story being stretched to its limits, it often left me wondering if anything new—or worthwhile—was truly being added to the narrative.
One of the more glaring issues was Edward’s obsessive thoughts about Bella. Sure, he’s portrayed as a tortured soul, but his constant pining felt more repetitive than romantic, leaving me questioning the dynamic of their relationship. The irony of a hundred-year-old vampire getting completely caught up in high school drama was almost amusing, yet painfully tedious. It’s as if Meyer has painted Edward as the original “nice guy,” plagued with self-loathing while simultaneously engaging in stalker-like behavior. I couldn’t help but cringe at moments where he mentally chastises Bella for wanting independence while simultaneously plotting her every move. Ah, the joys of reading about unhealthy relationships masquerading as romance.
At times, I found myself appreciating the writing style more than in the original series—it’s admittedly better crafted. Yet, this improvement doesn’t save it from becoming an exercise in frustration. I mean, how many times can you read about Edward’s alabaster skin and the constant comparisons of Bella to sugar and spice before it starts to feel like a dragged-out metaphor? A note here would be that while some might find humor in these quirks, for me, they only reinforced my disbelief in the characters’ arc—particularly Bella’s seemingly blind acceptance of her role as Edward’s “perfect” counterpart.
Ultimately, who might enjoy Midnight Sun? Perhaps die-hard fans of the series, eager for every morsel of backstory or anyone intrigued by the complexities of love steeped in unhealthy obsession. For me, it served as a bittersweet reminder of why I had initially stepped away from Twilight—the yearning, angst, and often unrealistic portrayal of romance left me drained.
In the end, I closed the book with the realization that while some may revel in the indulgent nostalgia, I garnered a deeper understanding of why it’s okay to move on from certain narratives. Edward and Bella’s saga might be one I’ve outgrown, but it’s certainly a testament to escapism in its prime—if only for better or for worse. Here’s hoping my next read guides me back to a more empowering—and less exasperating—journey through literature.
Discover more about Midnight Sun (The Twilight Saga, #5) on GoodReads >>