The Darkest Hour - Chapter 2 Part 2 (Section E):

[sos_sporkers]

SOS: *Takes a deep breath* Okay, here goes. I’ll try putting off sporking for as long as possible, because dammit, I want you to read this yourself, but I have a feeling that it’s going to be inevitable.

Like Jim said, a lot of this is simply a consolidation of the themes interwoven throughout this chapter, and Eddie reflects on what Jim pointed out the last part, that even though he knew what had happened after his ‘death’, he never really reflected on the implications of it.

Jim: He claims that it’s, ‘because he was still alive-after a fashion.’ And I do believe that - despite all the things that practically rubs his face in the fact that he’s no human anymore and his own admission in the first chapter that what he’s doing is hardly living…we see equally how much he’s unwilling to let go of the notion that he IS alive. He still wants to go to school. He still wants to become a doctor. He’s still trying to continue to live the life he thought he’d live. He treats his vampirism much like how I imagine ladies treat menstrual periods when they’re hiking - yeah, it’s painful and annoying and makes you miserable, but you just have to bear with it and go on to do what you have to do. When, really, this is more like a heroin addiction: it’s excruciating and screws up your whole life and never really leaves.

SOS: Well, that and he’s never really WANTED to think about it, either. So, he distracts himself with school, with aspirations to become a doctor, all remnants from his past life. It was all scheduled, it was the path he was meant to walk, so he clings to that schedule in order to maintain a semblance of normality in this strange world. He doesn’t want to think about the fact that he’s dead, that his family was dead, and that in the end, none of it mattered. So, he ignores it. We saw in the first chapter how he’s perfectly okay reminiscing about his life with Carlisle and Esme, but he never thinks about his parents, because if he imagined that his life had always been like this, then maybe that feeling of loss will go away.

And now that denial is coming back to bite him in the ass. All of the reality that he didn’t want to confront is attaching him all at once, and he has no idea how to deal, because his method of dealing has ALWAYS been running away and ignoring the problem.

Jim: So, he wonders about all the things he’s ignored, ‘…the wheels of civilization grinding on, of going through the appropriate motions to manage a death-his death.’

And he doesn’t exactly arrive at a pleasant conclusion.

SOS: When has ANY realisation been pleasant in this fic? This is basically Despair Event Horizon: The Novella.

Jim: Um, anyways, he reflects to himself about how trivial the death that had destroyed his world had been in the scale of things and how insignificant his life, that which he idealised, was, just like I said in the last part. But Edward doesn’t seem to realise that the world didn’t care about his parents’ passing, because there was no reason to care. Sure, they were fantastic parents and really nice people, but millions of fantastic parents and really nice people die each year. And even he himself, a blooming youth with a brilliant future, is nothing special or unique. They actually didn’t matter - that was the truth, however unpleasant it may be.

Obviously, he has a right to be biased in this case, but the decades he’s spent idealising his parents in his head would probably prompt him to think that the world was a cruel and heartless place for dismissing the loss of two such wonderful people. He’s planted his parents in the centre of his world so firmly that he won’t be able to accept that the indifferent of society could only be seen as a sin, as a corruption, in his eyes. And that, of course, would again contribute to his downfall.

SOS: That, and those fantastic parents of his sheltered him very much when he was growing up. All he ever knew was what they taught him, and, much like an idealistic child, he stills holds those things to be true - that every man SHOULD be a gentleman and give up their seats, that you pay respect to the dead properly, that sex was something degenerate and to be avoided. And since those parents have now become a symbol of the best of humanity, the only period of happiness in his life, he’s not going to want to think of them as ‘wrong’. So, when reality didn’t match up to the golden standards his parents had set, he’s going to think of society as corrupt and full of deviants.

Although, admittedly, the people we see him eat are, to one degree or another, ‘bad’ people, that is a very dangerous line of thought and just thinking about where he might have ended up gives me chills.

Jim: Edward tries to make light of the situation, though, by musing, ‘Didn’t everyone secretly wonder where their final resting place would be and how it would look once they were in it, a question that was never truly answered? And yet here he was, perversely alive after his death to see his own grave.’

Sure, there’s bitterness, a lot of bitterness, in that passage, but compared to his musings before, the tone is noticeably lighter. And given the rather rapid shift of topic, I can’t help but think of this as him running away from the problem again. He doesn’t want to reflect on how little his perfect life with his parents had mattered to the world and how inconsequential things that are sacred of him are. So, he tries to distract himself by focusing on all the trivial opinions he has on the grave.

SOS: Which is a really stupid fucking plan, because all of his problems generated from the fact that he’s DEAD. And he’s just reminded himself yet again of that fact. Though I have to admit, the phrase ‘perversely alive’ summarises vampires in this universe and, indeed, most vampires in general so well that it’s…it reduces me to wordless awe.

Anyways, back on topic.

Like I said, now that he’s directed his thought on this path himself, Eddie doesn’t have a choice but face the fact that, ‘…this wasn’t his resting place at all, but rather that of some anonymous stranger, buried next to his parents and amongst his family in the place that was rightfully his.’

See what I mean by balancing half a dozen different theme, each one of which had infinite complexity more than capable of filling a whole book, and doing it RIGHT? Amidst all the exploration of History and Memory (particularly Eddie’s view of his parents contrasted with society’s view, and the memory of the dead or lack thereof), Mrs. Hyde is still continuing the themes of Belonging and Identity.

Jim: And even though I hate it when fictional characters long after death, I really can’t fault Edward for this sentiment here. I mean, I’d still rail against him if he was to ACTUALLY try to kill himself or something, but really, he has every right to envy the stranger that had been buried in his place - particularly considering he probably still believes in heaven or at least some sort of afterlife here.

‘That should have been his, if he’d not cheated the fate that was dealt to him.’

SOS: This chapter was so focused on Eddie’s bitterness and denial and idiocy that I’d almost forgotten how prone he was to blaming everything on himself.

Jim: Huh…I wonder if that’s foreshadowing. If Edward believes in predestination, then he had to consider vampires as outside of the natural order even now, as he clearly doesn’t believe his transformation as a part of what fate had intended. And if fate was ordained by God, then even now, Edward doesn’t really believe that vampires are one of God’s children. I might be reading too much into this, but…if what I theorised was actually intended, then this might be the most mind-blowing foreshadowing I’ve ever seen.

SOS: I know I’ve been ranting against Carlisle since the beginning of this fic (most of which aren’t warranted at all, as I found out after a chat with Mervin), but he does something next that practically REDEEMS him in my eyes.

The following lines are perhaps the most AWESOME ones ever uttered by Carlisle…no. The most AWESOME lines ever uttered in this fic.

Be prepared.

‘It was a gift, Carlisle had told him when he’d first begun to question the nature of his strange new life-a gift to both him and his parents. Because he himself was now an indelible memory of his life and those he had loved-because those that we love are always with us, always a part of us, he said. And now his parents, their lives and loves and memories, would live on as long as Edward remembered them-would live on forever in their son.’

Read that.

BASK in it.

In 70 words, more or less, Carlisle has said everything I had ever wanted to say to Edward and more. And he did it in a much more…um…gentle way than I ever could.

In 70 words, he gave Eddie a PURPOSE, a meaning, an identity - and a connection to the world, to his parents, to himself. He gave Eddie a chance to live a LIFE.

And he didn’t lie ONCE whilst he was doing it.

Given how old he is as a vampire, it makes sense that he’d have a coping mechanism, a personal philosophy that gives him motivation to fight on for as long as he did. I just didn’t expect it to be this…perfect. It even solves the age-old angst of all immortals - watching those close to you die. And he did it all without deluding or lying to himself.

He looked upon an existence which, frankly, SUCKS ASS, and gave it a greater purpose. He’d even rationalised vampires as a necessary part of society (because remembrance, done in appropriate degrees, IS important).

That. Is. Amazing.

Jim: So, it’d be just like Edward to go ahead and twist a perfectly healthy philosophy like that into something dangerously self-destructive. While Carlisle had intended for him to think of himself as a physical representation of his parents and whatever else loved ones he had lost, and thus motivate himself to be an upstanding gentleman in order to do justice to their memory, Edward probably chose to interpret that the purpose of his existence WAS to remember, which would explain his obsession with the past.

SOS: Eddie’s concern right now is a little different from that, though.

‘But was he even their son anymore?’

And it’s a perfectly valid question. After such a dramatic change to his life, to his physiology, to his mentality, it makes sense that he would feel very distant from the naïve little schoolboy he once was. And he brings all of that up - how Edward MASON wouldn’t have to resist the urge to murder everyone around him to feast on their blood, how he looked different physically…Not to mention how Edward Mason would hardly murder squirrels.

But I would actually argue that, at this point in the story, he still IS himself. I’m not sure if he’s Edward Mason, especially not with how he pictures Edward Mason. He’s idealised his younger self so much that I doubt he was ever Edward Mason as he thought of it. But he’s definitely not a completely stranger to his human self either.

Sure, things have changed - his looks, his lifestyle, probably his view of the world too - but even if he had been Edward Mason, he’d have to eventually endure those changes. He would have to grow up, adjust to a new schedule when he entered society, probably have his worldview shattered once his parents aren’t there to shelter him anymore…All that had happened to him was that he was thrust into completely new circumstances, and EVERYONE changes and adapts to new environments. It’s just what we do. That doesn’t count as a fundamental change, or you could argue that no one in the world is who they truly are.

The fundamental parts of him never really changed - they’re just less noticeable because of all the obvious, physical changes being made. He still enjoys reading, he still has a love for the piano, he still loves his family, he’s still very flustered by sex, he still aspires to be a doctor, he still tries to be a gentleman...

If you had put Edward Mason in the exact same circumstances as Edward Cullen, he would have reacted the exact same way, because Edward Cullen WAS Edward Mason.

Jim: But he doesn’t hold onto his true self for long, though. Ironically, it’s right at the moment where he decides that he wasn’t Edward Mason any longer that he started to…become a different person. He didn’t start to lose his humanity until he had decided he’s already lost his humanity. Because, from that point on, he stopped fighting. He’s decided he’s already lost, so what’s the point?

And that’s what caused Reggie. That’s what caused Chapters 4 and 5.

THOSE are things that Edward Mason would never do.

It’s sort of ironic…

SOS: He’s made Edward Mason into a condensed version of everything good about humanity. Edward Mason WAS humanity. Edward Mason was everything that was HUMAN.

Edward Mason was the idealised version of humanity.

Eddie has made Edward Mason into an almost god-like symbol of all that is good and well, and this just fuels his self-loathing and sense of helplessness and futility and frustration, because he won’t ever reach the impossible goal he’s set for himself.

Jim: When he laments his lost humanity, he spends quite a long amount of time focused on the physical, interestingly. The hunting animals and thirst for blood only has 2 lines devoted to it, but comparisons of his face now and his face back then go on for nearly 150 words. And it makes sense since we already KNOW his behaviour and thoughts, and we know exactly why he was removed from the boy he once was. Having him mull over it at this point would just be repetition and beating the readers over the head.

SOS: Not only that, but his appearance is as central to his sense of identity as, say, his thoughts, especially with Carlisle’s theory. After all, if he no longer looked anything like his parents, so how could he possible act as a monument of them? There was no longer any hints that connected them together. And every change that was made, made him more distant to the only people who’s ever loved him, people he was told to live for. Even discounting that, anyone’s identity is at least somewhat centred on their face, and zapped to a body that he doesn’t recognise as his, it makes sense why it’d make him feel alienated.

That, and it gives Mrs. Hyde a great way to make what any other vampire would consider an advantage into a heart-breaking disadvantage for Eddie. And she LOVES doing that.

Jim: And this is basically another case of ‘it’s the little things that count’, another thing Mrs. Hyde loves doing. The little minute changes like the colour of his eyes really brings home just how completely he was transformed - everything that was his, no matter whether he loved it or not, was taken away from him, and he’s just starting to realise how precious the things he had taken for granted were. ‘…the changes wrought by a vampire’s venom were all-encompassing.’ Indeed.

SOS: Speaking of eyes, another one of the changes Mrs. Hyde made to the Twilight universe was mentioned here, ‘…the green of his father’s eyes was washed away by a glittering yellow, a cat-like gold that had dulled with time to a rusty burnt orange.’

Sure, it’s a minor change, but again, it’s the little things that count. In this case, a slight change like that made the vampires a whole lot more realistic and believable. Though, in this ‘verse, vampires are clearly powered by magic at least to some degree, toning down the magic colour-changing eyes of Meyerpires removes a lot of camp from the story - and frankly, flashy magic like that didn’t really belong in this universe anyways.

Despite being based of freaking SCIENCE, Meyer’s vampires somehow had eyes that changed colours depending on their appetites. Even disregarding the horrible, HORRIBLE Sue-cliché that even Suethors are avoiding these days of mood eyes, that little fact was still blatantly unscientific. No creature in nature has eyes that function as fuel-gauges, and that’s because no creatures NEEDS their eyes to act as fuel-gauges. It serves no evolutionary purpose. And the mechanism through which it worked was nebulous as well - and by nebulous, I mean NEVER FUCKING EXPLAINED.

The red eyes on evil vampires just end up looking narm-y and camp, obviously a result of Meyer using superficial visual aids to tell the readers who the bad guys are, and AGAIN, it makes no sense why substances almost entirely chemically identical (animal-blood and human blood) would produce such a dramatic physical change.

The change here, a slight dulling of the colours of the eyes, is much more subtle and plausible, especially since malnutrition (which is basically what the Cullens suffer from) really does cause dull, murky eyes.

Jim: And it allows Mrs. Hyde’s vampires to blend in a lot better, too. Although yellow eyes are still unnatural in humans, it could be passed off as light brown in dark light (which the vampires are going to be in, since they mostly hunt at night). Red eyes, however, are much more difficult to disguise and even harder to hand wave. And, as you said, it avoids the Sledgehammer of Symbology problem, as yellow eyes have a fairly neutral connotation - they can mean danger, sure, but are often seen on anything mythical. By not splitting the vampires clearly into a ‘Good’ group and a ‘Bad’ group and marking each with distinct physical differences, Mrs. Hyde introduces moral ambiguity and uncertainty into her story and thus makes the dynamic of her vampiric society and the interaction of her characters far more complex.

SOS: Anyways, this line of thinking inevitably brings Edward to the question, ‘Would his parents even recognize him anymore?’ And he launches into a paragraph of almost panicked denial, trying to convince himself that OF COURSE, his parents would recognise him and love him and want him no matter what he’d become…and this is incredibly hard to read, because I know what’s coming. I know no matter how much he tries to persuade himself, there’s only one conclusion he can possibly arrive at. And watching his panic and desperation is just plain heartbreaking.

Jim: And it’s even harder to read as he frantically recalls all the amazing sacrifices his parents made for him, proof of just how much they had loved him. Because while we’re almost constantly reminded of Edward’s love for his parents, we never really see his parents that much without his filter of rose-coloured glasses. But it’s true that by the very fact that he’s standing there, still existing, we know just how much his parents had to have loved him, ensuring that he got treatment first and begging that he be saved. The love of parents for their child is a wonderful thing - the kind of selfless, compassionate love that people spend their lives looking for…and that far too many people take for granted.

And knowing that, bias or not, Edward’s parents had really loved him enough that they’d die to save him makes this chapter go from sad to outright tragic.

SOS: No, that wasn’t tragic. That was just a prelude. What comes after that is fucking TRAGIC. And again, I find it impossible to comment on the passage in anywhere near an intellectual way, because…not only does is simply put what I’ve already discussed in more eloquent and emotional terms, but, like the angel-scene, the beauty here can’t be captured in words.

Every single line in the following passage utterly DESTROYS me, and to be honest, anything I could say about them would just hinder the emotional impact they have.

So, the only thing I can say is that this is the literary equivalent of a kick in the nuts - and I don’t even HAVE nuts! That’s how fucking effective it is!

‘Edward Mason was gone. His home was gone, his possessions were gone, and his family was gone-and all that was left was a slab of rock and some moldering bones, and for one horrible instant, all Edward wanted was to be there with them, sleeping peacefully for the first time in ten years in that bed of earth.

He stared at it, at the bland, impersonal monument that blended into the surroundings, even the final marker of his own end an empty and forgettable nothing. The names were carved deep, still sharp after only ten years, not worn down like the older ones. Richard Tilden, Elizabeth Frances, Edward Anthony. All dead.’

It’s amazing how, even as we get to know Edward more and more, Mrs. Hyde manages to keep me forever suspended between wanting to hug him and wanting to punch him in the face. He’s a moron, an idiot, and does the most stupid things, but at the same time, you know that’s only because he’s broken, he’s empty, he’s purposeless, and he’s dead.
While I want to scream at him how freaking wrong he is here, that Edward Anthony wasn’t dead until he decided so, that his parents died to give him that life so he’d better freaking live it…I also understand and EMPATHISE with everything he says. I can’t honestly say he’s an idiot for thinking this way, because most people would react in the exact same way under the circumstances. And I can’t imagine how much strength it’d take to walk away from something like that unaffected.

And, in a way, he’s absolutely right here. Edward, right now, is very much…dead.

He sees only destruction and decline in society, he has no friends or connections anywhere in the world, and even in the new home he’s found for himself, he’s uncomfortable and excluded to some extent. His dreams are out of his reach, his own body and mind are his enemies, and he has no purpose, no hope, no chance to turn back.

And considering that he just discarded his former identity, the statement is even truer.

THAT is what makes this scene so horribly tragic, because there was no going around it. It’s an inevitably realisation that’s only been delayed due to denial. He could have avoided this whole journey and went to Disneyland or something, and that realisation would still be looming over his future.

And all though this chapter, there was this sense of foreboding, because I knew what was coming. I knew he wasn’t going to come out of this unscathed. I knew exactly the purpose of this journey…and there was no force in the world that could prevent it.

It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion, in a way…

Jim: Not to mention, this realisation is necessary both for the story (from both a dramatic and thematic point of view) and for Edward as a person. He couldn’t possibly exist in the state of unthinking bliss before - a realisation like this is exactly what is required to kick him out of the little psychological stronghold he’s constructed for himself over the years and force him to grow and change. It’s the only thing that would get him to really re-think his life and figure out what to do with himself, instead of blindly clinging to the past.

If we take the ‘fighting himself’ theme a bit literally, then you could see the previous decade of his vampiric existence as one long hide-and-seek chase, where all he was doing was taking cover and hiding from his monster self. And this event vaporised all the potential cover in the area, leaving him no choice but to confront his demons head-on.

SOS: Edward notices a bible verse on the tombstone, reading, ‘“I am the Resurrection and the Life; he that believeth in me, though he were not dead, yet shall he live. Whoever so believeth in me shall never die.”’

…

OH MY GOD, HOW CAN YOU MAKE IRONY TRAGIC?

THIS IS BLACK MAGIC.

Jim: …Wow. Talk about becoming disillusioned in your religion.

SOS: Are you keeping note, Meyer? THIS is how you freaking put religion into your works - it has to make sense from a character’s point of view and serve a thematic purpose. Just cramming whatever creepy-ass beliefs you’ve been indoctrinated with everywhere does not a good story make.

Edward laughs at the irony, then mentally taunts Jesus…well, okay, not quite. That makes it sound a lot more badass than it is. He’s more mentally sporking the scripture in a really depressing way.

…

Never mind, just read what he thinks, ‘…he wasn’t human anymore. He was something else.

And just how do You account for that? Will I die if I no longer believe? Or have I cheated You too?

Or have You cheated me?’

…I have no idea why I just quoted that, especially after I’ve done a whole rant about how, as hard as I try, I can never dissect religion. I guess I just wanted you guy to share in the FUCKING HEART-RENDING PAIN that I’m feeling right now.
It’s really amazing that, despite this being a concept that’s almost entirely alien to me, this passage still manages to evoke in me every emotion that it should. That takes some serious talent. I don’t understand a single bit of just what God means to Edward, and yet I can sympathise and understand every bit of his anger, his bitterness, his despair…Seriously, black magic. Mrs. Hyde has it.

Jim: Like you said before, Edward’s fall is caused by loss, and yet it’s interesting to see just how much of his loss was a result of him throwing something away. I mean, sure, a lot of his loss was a cause of circumstances, but his lashing out has caused him to lose even more of what’s important to him. His parents died by disease, and yet his connection to them is destroyed by himself as he cannot reconcile his current form to his ideals. Similarly, though he was turned away from the church, it’s clear that, that event by itself hadn’t completely destroyed his faith - again, it’s his own loathing for himself that caused him to interpret the scripture like this and thus alienate himself from a guiding force.

SOS: *Looks up and blinks* …Wait.

Did I really just do that whole section without resorting to sporking once?

Jim: …Yeah?

SOS: …Wow.

I didn’t know I could do that.

I’m embarrassingly proud of myself.

But, of course, Mrs. Hyde isn’t going to let me feel good for long, as Edward’s musings are against interrupted by someone - the groundskeeper, to be exact. And, of course, he’s somewhat of an asshole.

Jim: This chapter has an odd sort of rhythm to it - Edward visit a site of sentimental value to him and muses on his past, and gets depressed, and is then confronted with an jerkass-y, judgemental person - usually someone who is in a position of authority and meant to maintain order. Not only does this mean he is meeting these people at literally the WORST time possible, and thus much more likely to lash out violently (fate is tempting Edward here, instead of the usual other way around). And what’s even more, the repetition and the gradual, subtle worsening of the situation each time puts a very heavy strain on both Edward and the readers so, in the end, we get almost as justifiably irritated as him. Yet another one of Mrs. Hyde’s tricks to make sure you’re 100% immersed in the character before tearing you to shreds.

SOS: And it does work brilliantly, too. At the start, I could still defend the priest’s bluntness to some extent, but here, after that utterly heartbreaking scene…yeah, that sudden interruption and the groundskeeper's unintentional offensiveness really made me twitch.

Anyways, the groundskeeper yells at Edward to go away, which startles him. And I have a feeling this is yet another case of ‘human reaction in the inhuman’, since, as Edward says himself, he hasn’t been startled like that for a long time. Regardless, the sort of mood whiplash induced by these interactions really helps the reader relate to Edward’s surprise, so…yeah, Mrs. Hyde uses some damned dirty tricks.

Jim: That, and it really brings home just how immersed Edward was in his problems and how much they agonise him - to the point that he can’t even hear a person running towards him (not to mention their thoughts). That, and the suddenness of the introduction of such jerkass-y characters after such a long period of time spent on reminiscing about how wonderful the past was really lets the readers understand WHY Edward might resent current society.

SOS: The groundskeeper is waving a rake around, too. All he needs are some torches and pitchforks and he’s good to go.

He yells at Edward and makes it clear that kids have been sneaking into the graveyard on dares or to graffiti the tombstones…and I could buy that, and on some level, I can understand his anger and suspicious. I mean, just the thought of someone defacing Edward’s parents’ grave makes my heart skip. Moral ambiguity, it’s a wonderful, wonderful thing.

Jim: Of course, he was momentarily startled when he got a good look at Edward, but that doesn’t make him back down any more. And I love the recurring theme of people being disturbed or made uneasy by Edward, not only because it’s consistency, but it really gives you a good idea of how strong this aura of repulsion was that absolutely NO ONE was immune to it.

SOS: Edward makes some weak excuse about how he just came in for a visit, and it’s quite clear that he’s still preoccupied by his musings, as he’s still staring at the tombstone and angsting over the scripture engraved on it. By interweaving Edward’s pain, which we’ve just seen the full depth of, throughout this scene, it really heightens the impact of just how unintentionally asshole-ish the groundskeeper was to him.

Jim: Especially as his dialogue actually has a false start here, which is quite unusual, as he’s usually very calm and eloquent. It really says something about how shaken he was.

SOS: And I wasn’t kidding about just how mind-bogglingly, unintentionally offensive the groundkeeper is being. ‘…you little monsters are always in here at night on a dare or something, playing pranks and defacing the stones-have you no respect for the dead?!”’

Seriously, that just made me wince.

Jim: Huh…it just occurred to me that…it’s interesting in just how much control that Edward has to exercise on himself - far more than any human could be expected to. If he were human, in this scene, I’d understand if he chose to lash out and…I don’t know, brawl with the groundskeeper. It wouldn’t be a wise thing to do, but it’d be perfectly understandable. And yet because he’s a vampire, he can’t indulge in any of that anger - he has to have perfect control over himself at all time, because the tiniest slip didn’t just lead to a few bruises, but MURDER.

There was a reason he bottled his frustration up, because where the hell could he release it? He had no choice except to squash it down and hope it doesn’t boil over. Even the somewhat violent act of hunting animals only intensify his frustration!

SOS: While I agree with you in that it’s not hard to understand his anger…and yet the way it manifests here seriously crept (creeped?) me out.

‘…he twitched against the sudden urge to lash out at this puny, yammering creature who had interrupted him with his false accusations.’

That was just…dangerously close to what canon!Edward would think.

But what makes this work is that this isn’t a sudden change - we saw him coming along every step of the way, from the first frustrating encounter with the guard at the bar to now, we saw his steady decline and, MOST IMPORTANTLY, we saw why. This is an absolutely horrible moment, but it was logical, especially since we just saw him renounce his own humanity in despair in this very scene. Whereas canon!Edward seemed happy to ditch his humanity the second he was turned.

Jim: That, and this is actually being portrayed as a bad thing. We’re meant to see his decline and feel horror and worry at it. We’re meant to be screaming ‘no’ at him. We’re meant to be distraught by the fact that circumstances and his doubts have driven him to fall so low.

SOS: And, to be honest…the most terrifying thing here is that, compared to the scenes before, this thought of violence seem a lot more…calm in nature. Before, he was almost always motivated by blood at least in some part, and so we can interpret that as just his vampire side coming out and screwing him over even more. But there is no mention of blood here and that sentence is distinctly different to frenzied intensity that had been a hallmark of his thoughts when he was agitated, and he feels no regret and didn’t appear troubled by what has popped into his head. In fact, when he speaks to the groundskeeper, it’s described as, ‘coldly’.

That’s what makes this scene rather horrifying to me.

Jim: Edward protests his innocence, but the groundskeeper is not convinced, as if he was just visiting family, he’d come during the day. Which, again, is very, VERY unintentionally offensive.

SOS: These people’s ignorance is what makes them seem so obnoxious, as we know Edward’s reasons and we can appreciate them. But they won’t ever know, because Edward is pretty much required by vampire law to keep his complaints and justifications to himself. No matter how reasonable his actions were under the circumstances, he’d be treated with suspicious all his eternal life, just because his lifestyle necessitates unusual actions.

Edward continues to subtly threaten the groundskeeper, making this scene even more unbearable to read, and again, it’s horrifying just how well life turns out for him if he’d only give in to his desires.

‘…he found that he would very much like to show him the error of his words-in particular the fact that the man’s initial fright and distrust had been the truth all along.’

Again, what had caused him endless angst in the first chapter, he’s actually taking advantage of in this chapter. He’s starting to see a use for his unnatural ability to cause fear and revulsion in humans. Because he no longer wants to join us.

Not only has his chances of belonging been destroyed, but also his DESIRE for belonging at all. And now, he’s just a ticking bomb, until all the frustration that he’s kept under a cover in order to fit into society come erupting out because he no longer wants to pretend anymore. He sees no use in partaking in a society that had destroyed everything he loved.
He’s indulging in all the vampiric traits that he’s been trying to keep at bay for a decade, because he’s become disillusioned of humanity.

And considering his longing for humanity was the only thing that motivated his struggles…

Yeah, I think we all know where this is going.

Again, it’s amazing how, in only two chapters, we get to every step Edward takes that will lead to his downfall. And his transition to wanting belonging more than anything else to scorning belonging is so smooth that every step is logical and he never breaks out of character.

Jim: Again, Edward doesn’t give in to his desires…and while this WOULD be a good thing, you have to realise that it’s because he had no desires in the first place. He didn’t want to bite the man for his blood - he wanted to bite the man to establish his superiority over him. He was more tempted by power and symbolic revenge than thirst.

SOS: And even as he is apologising and leaving, an act that previously marked Edward subduing his vampiric side and coming to his senses, here, it’s still quite clear that not everything is well.

‘“I’m sorry, sir,” he bit out, his voice rippling with something not quite human, and the man heard it.’

He’s not leaving because he’s gaining back a bit of his humanity and realising what horrible thoughts he had been thinking. In fact, he never quite gains back all those little traits that had marked him as a human until his eventual redemption. He’s just leaving because he’s following a pattern of behaviour, because Carlisle had taught him that it isn’t right to kill people and he’s spent a decade extracting himself from situations like this.

Jim: And it doesn’t get any better, because Edward didn’t want it to get better. Before, in every situation, he’s managed to pull himself back from the brink because he realised what he was doing was wrong. And yet here, with all his hopes shattered and filled with hate and bitterness, he doesn’t see anything wrong with his mental indulgence in that part of him that he used to loathe.

In fact, he was actively revelling in the groundskeeper’s fear. Although devoid of any of the animal ferocity from previous scenes, it’s clear that Edward is giving in to his predatory side.

His actual fall from grace is at the end of the next chapter, where this scorning of humanity and his boiling anger towards society is translated to action, but I would argue that this scene signifies his mental fall. The actions don’t manifest until later simply due to habit, but as soon as he stopped fighting against the darker side of himself, as soon as he started to enjoy its presence, there was no going back for him.

SOS: Edward leaves, ‘…turning his back on the stones of his family…’ How very symbolic, seeing as he had abandoned every ideal his parents had taught him, officially denounced his purpose as a monument to their memory, and declared himself no longer their son.

Jim: …When you put it that way, he’s kind of a jerk, isn’t he?

SOS: Oh, he is. And we end this chapter on a chilling and yet incredibly tragic note, ‘…and he walked away, borne out by a string of shouted threats, leaving the graves of his parents and himself behind him.’

Goodbye, Edward. It was a fun 2 chapters with you. I’m sure I’ll miss you.

See you next time, guys, where…

…

We move onto Chapter 3 Part 1.

SHIT.

Go Back to: Chapter 2 Part 2, Section D

Go Forward to: Chapter 3, Part 1