Friday, February 13, 2009

Rose is Red?

I've been thinking a lot — a lot! — about a certain beautiful young lady named after a flower. No, not Chrysanthemum, although she, too, is a beautiful young lady. Who I had in mind prefers Chanel to flannel, but that doesn't stop her from being a tree hugger.
Roses are Red,
Her eyes were Blue,
But one thing you don't want:
Her, mad at you.

Now, it's canon that Rosalie likes to wear red. After all, she clears the dance floor at Prom wearing that backless velvet gown. In which color? Red.

Either that, or she's also favoring clothes of the whitest of snow in colour these days. Snow White as in: "who's the fairest of them all?" The answer to that query, obviously, is Rosalie. The mirror-mirror-on-the-wall was wrong, wrong, wrong!

Blood red or purest white. That's our Rosalie: fire and ice. And to think: those names were for the witch twins, Jane and Alec. Certainly they may have those abilities (although Jane may meet competition for the 'Fire' moniker from a certain extremely powerfully gifted vampire, Rhee, Lady Didyme's handmaid ... oh, no! not another story idea), but when it comes to the power of Rosalie's presence, the aptness of their designations falls into question.

So, Rosalie and Red go together. Or, do they? Golden hair? Golden eyes? Pale white skin?



[image created by fanfiction author/artist Roonie]

Rosalie is rather decided on her ways and her views. She likes red, she's going to wear red, and she's going to make the red look good on her. Red will know it's fortunate to be chosen by Rosalie.

But, let's say, "for argument's sake", that Rose has, erhm, a 'friend', a sort-of, well, 'sister', you might say. And this friend/sister is not a push-over herself, and Rosalie and her sister of the heart are in Washington, D.C. or NYC or Philly, or Paris or London (which, in the earlier part of the last century was a fashion mecca, don't you know ... it is also rather helpful that London can be a bit foggy at times ...) and they pass by a shop window and see the following:



Now these are spring/summer cocktail dresses; Rosalie prefers them full-length, but it shouldn't take too much convincing or arm-twisting on the part of her sister (which is a very good thing in her case, she could get hurt either attempting to twist Rosalie's arm or having her arm twisted by Rosalie) to have a full-length version of the Diane von Furstenberb Eliza dress tailor made for her.



And, as the print is the "Vienna Map", they would have the added advantage of not needing to stop to ask for directions in a certain Old World city.

Just imagine Rosalie wearing that ensemble, walking arm-in-arm with her dear sister. I know it's an anachronism, but I can just hear her humming a few bars from The Association song:
Who's peekin' out from under a stairway
Calling a name that's lighter than air
Who's bending down to give me a rainbow
Everyone knows it's Rosalie

Who's tripping down the streets of the city
Smilin' at everybody she sees
Who's reachin' out to capture a moment
Everyone knows it's Rosalie

And Rosie has stor-my eyes
That flash at the sound of lies
And Rosie has wings to fly
Above the clouds (above the clouds)
Above the clouds (above the clouds)

Stormy eyes, indeed! She would give new force to the phrase: "Drop dead gorgeous" as the multiple traffic accidents causes by motorists unable to keep their eyes off her (and on the road), and other pedestrians having their hearts ripped out by jealous spouses ("Well, dear, you said your heart was mine, so now I'm collecting ..."). Jealousy may not be limited to spouses; Rosalie's 'sister' can be a mite touchy when it comes to other people giving her Rose looks.

"Roses are Red"? Heavens, no! This rose is yellow, and not just in Texas, but anywhere she wants to be.

... and, as long as that anywhere is with family, then that anywhere can be anywhere, be it in the hinterlands of the Midwestern part of the United States, or in Castle Volterra. She is, after all, a Hale, and with family, everything will be just fine.

In fact, everything will be coming up, well, roses.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

To Emmett

I've been thinking a good deal recently about Rosalie. Carlisle turned her, originally, so that Edward would have a companion, just as he has his Esme. Rosalie and Edward, as a couple did not work out ... to put it mildly. Why? Because Rosalie and Edward are Janus: two sides of the same coin; so alike that they can't stand the sight of each other.

Now, can two people who are very much alike make a relationship, make love, work? Of course. Did Edward and Rosalie? Of course not. Rosalie found and then chose Emmett (and he, her), and Edward found and then chose Bella (and she, him).

Now I argue that Bella, despite noises from some disgruntled quarters, is one of the strongest characters in the series. Eventually she has the strength and powers to back up her will and determination.

The same argument can be put forward for Emmett. He is not just a character that exists simply to supply a pairing to Rosalie. Steph chose her characters well, and each had their own well-defined personality and history. That Emmett did not go crowing about his past, or trumpeting his achievements does not mean he doesn't have them to boast (or, in Edward's case, to lament). A quiet character has character. It just requires effort to uncover it, and then to revel in it.

I have.

My admiration of Emmett is boundless. He is the strongest character in the Twilight series, but I'm not talking about physical strength. That he is constantly untroubled by Rosalie, that he actually enjoys her company, that he delights in her tantrums and hissy fits? That he lets her be her all the while not being stepped on by her or hiding behind or under her skirt?

You know that Emmett is as smart as all the other Cullens and Hales. How come you never hear about it? It's because he doesn't measure his worth by his intellect. If I was one tenth the man Emmett is, I'd be twice the man I am now. I think the world needs more big tough teddy bear guys that like to laugh and only have eyes for their own girl.

But that's just me. How about you? Do your own digging into Emmett's character. You may be delighted with what you find.

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The title of this post indirectly refers to the poem by Edgar Allen Poe, "To Helen". I do not have a source, but I recall some calling this poem the perfect representation of a poem in the classical style.