Plan-B Theatre has generously donated 60 seats for the preview night to Sunstone. Join us to be the first to see the world premier of “Amerigo” and have a conversation with the playwright afterward. The entire price of the ticket will go toward supporting Sunstone. Thank you!

When:

Wednesday, April 7, 2010.

Where:

Studio Theatre, Rose Wagner
138 W 300 S, SLC

How Much:

$25

Get Tickets Here

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I admit that it took a bit of time for me to get into it. The first segment was a telling of the oft-repeated story of the shootings in an Amish school and the community’s seemingly instantaneous forgiveness of the perpetrator. Then the movie headed into the story of a woman who managed to live a happy life despite an abusive childhood and being infected with HIV. I can’t remember much about that segment.

But the next two segments really intrigued me. The first dealt with Terri Jentz, the author of Strange Piece of Paradise, who survived a brutal, anonymous attack. After the attack, she lived through 15 years of torpor and depression. During that time, when someone would ask her about her feelings about her attacker, she would say, “Oh, I’m above that. I’ve forgiven him.” It wasn’t until she started to dig into her case, trying to track her attacker down, that she came alive again. She says near the end of the segment that her 15 years of “forgiveness” were unhealthy for her.

The last segment was about Katherine Ann Power who, during an armed bank robbery to get money to support her Vietnam War protest, was complicit in the killing of a police officer. She managed to evade the law for 23 years, and probably would have done so indefinitely, except that, being overwhelmed by her conscience, she finally turned herself in.

As Whitney told us before the screening, the meaning of forgiveness is under intense debate right now. But I saw an interesting definition arising from these stories. It’s best illustrated with a scene from the movie Stranger than Fiction, where Will Ferrell’s character realizes that he is a character in an in-progress novel. In the middle of the movie, Ferrell decides that if he remains immobile, he can derail the plot and get his life back. So he sits in a chair for hours until his apartment wall is suddenly knocked in by a crane. The plot has come to get him. After that, he becomes a very active main character, tracking down the author and taking control of his story.

As Frances Menlove wrote in the most recent issue of Sunstone, “We all know that the universe isn’t made of atoms; it is made of stories.” Each woman spent a lot of time hiding from her life story. The woman infected with HIV turned to addictive behavior to avoid dealing with her life’s plot points. Jentz pretended that a major character in her life’s story didn’t matter. Power, like Ferrell, hid from the sad stories she had set in motion. They were passive main characters, letting other forces run their lives. And, of course, if you relinquish the story of your life, your soul is bound to start fading. Life seemed to regain richness and meaning when the women actively re-entered their stories.

So perhaps forgiveness is when you become an active protagonist in your life story. It’s when you say, “Here are the pieces of my story. I’m not going to ignore them. I’m going to make something new out of them.”

Since I don’t normally handle the mail, it’s been kind of fun to slit open the envelopes and see what’s inside.

It’s been gratifying to see a steady stream of subscription renewals to Sunstone Magazine. Renewing your subscription is tangible feedback letting us know you like what we’re doing and want Sunstone to keep coming. It’s reciprocal, really. You renew Sunstone and Sunstone renews you.

On our end, each renewal is like getting vote of confidence and a thank you for the insights, understanding, richness, and diversity in Mormonism that Sunstone has been celebrating and publishing since its first issue back in 1975.

It was also a joy to see some donations on renewal forms as well. We are truly grateful for your extra contributions. Even just a few dollars added on to your renewal supports our work and shows us you value Sunstone’s thoughtful, honest explorations of Mormon experience, scholarship, issues, and art.

I’ve enjoyed opening envelopes this week and seeing the names of so many dedicated supporters and friends. I’ve also enjoyed seeing your handwriting on subscription forms. In the buzz and whir of the electronic age, handwriting makes me feel connected to the person holding the pen. To know that you took the time to sit down and write us an extra note or greeting gives a tedious task of opening mail a spark of enjoyment.

It also reminds me that people are the beating heart of Sunstone. It is a privilege and honor to be part of an organization that is not only a significant presence in Mormon Studies but also one that plays a crucial part in the spiritual lives and journeys of so many people. Thank you for being part of the vibrant community that is Sunstone.

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I knew I needed to read Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight saga when we were on vacation in Hawaii two years ago.  As the sun shone down and the waves lapped the shore, my fifteen year old daughter and her friend spent much of their time reading although they are normally active and outdoorsy.  I decided if they could avoid the temptations of paradise to read, I had to know why.

So I read the first three books with my daughter two years ago.  Then I reread them last year to refresh my memory before I read the fourth book when it came out.  Then my daughter and I went to see the movie—twice.  When I wanted to see it again, my husband told me if I couldn’t find something better to do with my time, I should go back to work.  (But the date for the upcoming movie sequel, New Moon, has been circled for months.)

I wanted to figure out why my daughters and I and millions of other females find the story so compelling, so I performed the unscientific but undoubtedly accurate Tingle Test (you know—butterflies in the stomach, a tingle at the base of the spine).  Whenever I felt that “tingle,” I noted it.  I discovered that though vampires and werewolves may abound in this saga, this is no horror story.  It’s romance plain and simple.

Though I analyzed the story for my own curiosity, I realized my findings could be invaluable information for the opposite sex.  Men and boys, pay attention.  Meyer has captured in story form the answer to Freud’s question: What do women want?

Intense attraction

Edward is mesmerized by Bella.  He loves looking at her even though she is just an ordinary girl.  Bella says, “I glanced up and he was staring at me” (Twilight, 46).  “He continued to stare at me with obvious curiosity” (49).  “Edward Cullen was   . . . staring intently in my direction” (52).  Bella and Edward go to a restaurant, and an attractive waitress flirts conspicuously with him.  “She smiled invitingly at him again. ‘You have a nice evening.’  He didn’t look away from me as he thanked her” (177).  Edward tells Bella, “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever known.  You fascinate me” (245).  Talk about fascinating womanhood—she  doesn’t even need Saran Wrap.

Edward even watches Bella while she sleeps.  When she asks him about it, he says, “I was curious about you” (292).  She asks, “How often did you come here?” He answers, “I come here almost every night” and explains simply, “ You’re interesting when you sleep” (293). This is one of the it-could-be-creepy-but-it’s-not parts.  When I reread the book more analytically, I realized that a guy sneaking into a girl’s room without her knowledge could seem a little stalker-like.  But the first two times I read it, it just seemed flattering.  He wants to spend all his time gazing at her.  In the cold, hard light of day, it sounds weird, but I’m telling you, men—it’s a turn-on.

Rapt attention

“Cherish is the word I use to describe. . .”  If you can hum along to that song and remember how those words made you feel, you’re well on your way to understanding the draw of these books. Edward loves looking at Bella, but he’s also interested in what she has to say.  My boyfriend in high school wanted to do one thing, and it wasn’t talking.  Later in my life, as a single mom back on the dating circuit, I found that, unfortunately, men did want to talk—about themselves.  I decided if any guy ever acted the least bit interested in hearing about me, I’d marry him.  (And I did, but that’s another story.)

Edward wants to know everything about Bella.  She says, “He looked fascinated by what I said, for some reason I couldn’t imagine” (48).  “He seemed engrossed in our conversation” (50).  He says, “I do want to know what you’re thinking—everything” (208).  She says, “[H]e questioned me relentlessly about every insignificant detail of my existence” (229).  “I couldn’t remember the last time I’d talked so much. . . . But the absolute absorption of his face, and his never-ending stream of questions, compelled me to continue” (229).

When he gets her alone, all to himself, what do they do?  They talk!  This is possibly the most romantic scene in the movie.  Set in a lovely rain forest, they sit on the moss and talk.  Mind-blowing erotic!  At this point, a woman sitting a few rows ahead of us in the theater turned to the man with her and started making out. Men, you want an aphrodisiac?  Here it is. Since the age of free love, I think romance has been underrated.  This whole Sex in the City thing where people meet-greet-jump-in-bed is a man’s fantasy.  Women have blown it by not insisting on the good stuff, the flowers, the cuddles, the talking!  I’m not saying sex isn’t fun.  I’m saying for women, romance is funner, and sex is even more fun for women with romance.  Edward is the romance master, guys. Learn from him.

Strong protection

The day the movie came out on DVD, a friend I teach seminary with had a movie-watching party. She told me one of the group’s favorite lines was when Edward says to Bella, “I feel very protective of you.” Much of the storyline is centered on Edward’s strength and his protection of Bella.  The first time she suspects he is more than just a pretty face is when he uses his bare hands to save her from being crushed by a car.  Later he races in at the last moment to rescue her from a bunch of drunk jerks. When my older daughter and I watched Edward grab Bella and climb up a tree with her (You just need to see it.  It’s too hard to explain), my daughter exclaimed, “He’s so strong!”

All of his strength—throwing trees around and stuff—would be impressive to guys but wouldn’t do anything for women except that it is all directed at protecting Bella.  It is all for her.  Which demonstrates the last and most significant element of Edward as babe magnet:

Total devotion

When I read the books initially, I told my daughter that I could buy the vampire character, and I was willing to suspend disbelief about the werewolves.  The part I had trouble believing was the absolute devotion Edward exhibited toward Bella.  I may have trouble believing it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it!

Cue music: “Hopelessly, devoted to you.”  My seminary friend says, “Edward’s character is the ultimate devoted partner.  His connection to Bella is unquestioned.”  He tells her, “You are my life now” (314).  That’s a melt-in-your-shoes-and-drip-down-the-sidewalk line.  Other good ones:  “I’ll always want you—forever” (318).  “You are the most important thing to me now.  The most important thing to me ever” (273).  And he doesn’t just say it.  He backs up his words by what he does, by denying himself for her good.  When Bella asks him how he was able to keep from sucking her blood, he says, “I’m not sure.  It was impossible to stop. . . But I did.  I must love you” (460).

Edward is focused on Bella’s eternal welfare, not on his temporary physical desire.  Sound familiar, Sunday School teachers?  This self-control is Meyer’s most Mormon theme.  Some of Edward’s lines could come straight out of advice in For the Strength of Youth:  “Bella, I think you should go inside now” (225).   “Mind over matter.  If it gets to be too much, I’m fairly sure I’ll be able to leave” (302).  “Let’s get out of here before I do something really stupid” (363).  In the very romantic scene in the forest, they aren’t even touching. They aren’t even touching!  If it weren’t too embarrassing for the staid, practical seminary teacher that I am, I would admit to squealing along with my daughters at that part.

As my seminary friend says, “Edward is probably the most selfless leading man we have ever seen in the movies.  Most leading men we see today are on a quest to satisfy a hunger . . . . Edward is our first leading man to control it.”

Another of my friends says that it is the vampire threat of danger that creates the erotic appeal in the story.  “If Edward had all the adoring, protective and attentive qualities but was just a really sweet, average-looking all-American boy, he’d probably be as equally lovable, but not nearly as irresistible!”  She may be right.  But what makes my heart thump is his desire for Bella yet his self-control for her good.  In the movie, Edward says, “I’ve never wanted a human’s blood so much in my life. . . .Your scent is like a drug to me.  You’re like my own personal brand of heroin.”  And his very best line of all, “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you.”  After the, well, I’ve lost count how many times I’ve watched that scene, it stills makes me feel like swooning.  So while I agree with my friend that the vampire archetype is alluring, I still think Edward’s devotion is the element that takes this beyond just a popular vampire story and makes it the cultural phenomenon it has become.

So, men, I know you’re thinking, “But Edward is so handsome!”  It would help to be a drop-dead gorgeous hunk, but, let’s face it, most of you aren’t.  The good news is—you don’t have to be. When a man looks at a woman, he sees the woman.  When a woman looks at a man, she sees herself reflected in his eyes. The important thing is not how you look to her but how you look at her and how you look out for her.  It’s how you make her feel: fascinating, cherished, protected. Trust me. Trust Edward. This is what she wants. Give it to her and you’ll both thank us.

Originally published in Sunstone issue 157, December 2009
photo credit: twilightthemovie.com

Generous thanks to all who have donated to Sunstone this year through our online fundraisers, at the symposiums, and during our year-end giving campaign. Your support is vital to keeping Sunstone’s publications, events, and new programs going.

Warm thanks also to our devoted magazine subscribers, our enthusiastic magazine contributors, our insightful symposium speakers, our hardworking symposium organizers, our thoughtful respondents and session chairs, our fervent symposium attendees, our committed board members, and to our MANY dedicated volunteers who lent us technical expertise, helped out at the office, and ensured our events ran as smoothly as possible.

We couldn’t do it without your help! Thanks again for a great year, everyone!

PS: It’s not too late to send in a last-minute, tax-deductible donation for 2009, should the spirit of giving  move you to click the link: https://www.sunstonemagazine.com/donate/

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Every year, Latter-Day Saint authors are being published in magazines, journals, and books all over the nation, receiving many awards along the way. Spanning 2007 and 2008, The Best of Mormonism brings together the best LDS fiction, personal essay, poetry, and playwrighting from publications such as the Black Warrior Review, the Iowa Review, the South Bend Review, and Prick of the Spindle.

INCLUDES WORK THAT HAS BEEN HONORED BY
The Association for Mormon Letters
The Best Creative Nonfiction
The Phillip Levine Prize for Poetry
The Pushcart Prizes
The Whitney Awards

CONTRIBUTORS
Neil Aitken
Darin Cozzens
Lisa Torcasso Downing
Angela Hallstrom
Lance Larsen
Patrick Madden
Kathryn Lynard Soper
Emily Summerhays

and others

Subscribers to Sunstone Magazine and The Association of Mormon Letters’ Irreantum will receive this issue as part of their subscription.

Order yours today!

What constitutes being graceful about losing your faith might be too subjective to even define concisely.  I debate with myself as to whether or not it can include being in any way public, or observable.  So I’m hoping to find some wiry tightrope upon which to walk, careful not to fall too far towards denial and repression, or towards ranting and collateral damage.

The treatment of personal faith struggles is approaching a poignant and potentially combustible state as the holidays draw near.  My family is extremely faithful and traditional.  I would hesitate to say “orthodox”, because they have never been about serious doctrinal discussions or demanding of particular beliefs.   Instead, it has just always been assumed that everyone is on the same page.  The church is true, the big questions answered, so let’s get on with our lives.  Of course, there are a couple family members who enjoy discussing politics and/or end times narratives (often dovetailed tightly).  My own politics, and my distinct lack of end times acceptance, carry the potential for great distress at family gatherings.  In the past I have squirmed with zipped lip as homosexuals were stereotyped, Michelle Obama was officially categorized as “evil”, and food storage was speculated to be a mechanism for separating the wheat from the chaff.  But something has happened to me in recent weeks.  Something like finding the dangling pull-string to the lightbulb in a pitch dark cellar.

You see, on paper I do believe something.  I believe that there is an essential oneness between all people.  Probably all life, not just people, but I’ll focus on people right now.  Yet, its easy to fall into spirit-less patterns of being and allowing your selected beliefs to become mostly academic.  Reduced to a boilerplate ready for quick placement on a survey, but lacking the soul of convicted living.  I don’t know what happened, but something did, and suddenly I have become aware of this discrepancy.  If I believe in the oneness of all humanity, then how can I go into every interaction with family seeing – and by extension, treating – them as “others”?

That question extends to other parts of life, too.  In my ward.  In my cosmic relationship with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints as an institution.  In my public writing about religion and faith.  What has become clear is that if we all share a oneness of humanity then I have to learn how to respect and honor the journey of even those from whom I feel most distinct.  For some time I have thought of my faith journey as a story of one among a collective body.  Each position on a doctrine, church policy, historical event, or truth claim has been measured as my view versus the TBM (True Believing Mormons) view.  When you look at things in this way, two things happen.  First, your stories force people to choose sides and cast judgments.  Second, everyone involved becomes a caricature as the essential nuance of truth is sold out for emphasis and melodrama, which results in the illusion of our “otherness” becoming the strongest point made.  To avoid those problems, otherness has to be transcended.

While this irksome otherness poisons both our relationships to those with whom we disagree and our most personal stories, I hold onto a hope that connecting with and honoring the sameness will repair, enlighten, and add new value.  How much of the connection between us is my responsibility?  I don’t know, but I recognize that we often try so hard to be understood and accepted that we end up creating more conflict and division.

Thanksgiving will be a test.  It will require a level of grace that often eludes me.  But I do long for that communion of family.  It was easy when we really were on the same page, perhaps even unearned.  It will require effort now, but I feel willing.  Perhaps I will have something new to be thankful for after the experience… a little extra grace in my being, and a little extra peace in my life.

Click the link to read the article.

http://www.mormontimes.com/studies_doctrine/research_discoveries/?id=11725

By Eric W Jepson

Editors note: This is an abridgment of the full article, to be published in the forthcoming issue of Sunstone Magazine.

Werewolves really latch on to the whole eternal marriage thing. Have you noticed that? I don’t know if there was a substantial werewolf population where you served your mission, but on mine they would hem at how we, like others, believe in a Supreme Being, and haw at the Joseph Smith story, but once we got into sealing and the eternal bonds of matrimony and families-can-be-together-forever, they really perked up. Ask anyone who’s ever taught a werewolf. They’ll tell you.

Or better yet, ask Stephenie Meyer. She’s the expert on these things. Part of what makes her monsters so interesting is where they diverge from the monstrous norm. Most pre-Twilight vampires don’t sparkle, and most pre-Twilight werewolves don’t believe in eternal marriage. But Meyer’s do.

For all the online chatter about Stephenie Meyer and her Scary Mormon Agenda, most alarmed bloggers have overlooked how her monsters—werewolves in particular—fall into a classic Mormon literary pattern¹: the Premortal Romance.

The Premortal Romance we tend to remember best in 2009 is the Douglas Stewart / Lex de Azevedo cheesefest, Saturday’s Warrior, but the tradition goes back much further than that.

Nephi Anderson started things off in 1898 with Added Upon, a book that at one time (at least in Nephi, Utah²) was given to every young woman to read. Added Upon was Anderson’s first book and by far his most popular—too bad, because it certainly isn’t his best—because it appeals to something deeply Mormon in us. It begins in the premortal realm and follows a boy and a girl from there, through mortality, to paradise, through the Millennium, and finally to exaltation.

Out for a premortal walk one day, Honan sees Delsa’s “sweet face” and is drawn to her immediately. When she sees him, a “pleased smile overspread[s] her face” and she explains that she had been making a “dream picture” of her ideal face when he arrived and that now her “dream face seem[s] to blend with [his].” Drawn together, they converse[… and] both faces [shine] with a soft, beautiful light. The joy within [...] too deep for words. [...] Instinctively, they [cling] to each other.”³

The story of Honan and Delsa (Rupert and Signe upon coming to Earth) thus becomes the prototypical Premortal Romance. They come to Earth, and when they meet, bond immediately. When Rupert first hears Signe’s voice, he is “spellbound” and she, noticing him, looks upon him “steadily.” One things leads to another and pretty soon they’re in heaven again, together forever.

It’s this mode of romantic relationship, popular in Mormon literature since Anderson came up with it, that Stephenie Meyer’s werewolves experience.

The most significant distinguishing trait of a Meyer werewolf is “imprinting,” the sudden and permanent formation of a mate relationship. Jacob, the novels’ preeminent werewolf, describes imprinting as an experience akin to gravity: “When you see her,” he says, “suddenly it’s not the earth holding you here anymore. She does. And nothing matters more than her.”⁴ Even Meyer’s human heroine, Bella, can recognize that an imprinted werewolf couple is “utterly right together, two puzzle pieces, shaped for each other exactly.” Through imprinting, Twilight’s werewolves find their “soul mates.”⁵ One party is bound to the other becoming the other’s “perfect match. Like he was designed for her alone.”⁶

The werewolves of the Twilight books never know when (or if) they will imprint on someone. Once they become a werewolf during adolescence, they may imprint at any time, and when they do, any prior relationship becomes unsustainable because an imprinted werewolf can never turn away from his or her imprintee. Sudden recognition that then lasts eternally? The Premortal Romance.

The very concept of a soul mate suggests that the question, “Whom shall I marry?” has but one correct response and that each person must live in fear of inflicting pain on others while seeking a fated, imprint-like experience. Spencer W. Kimball famously said (and his timing suggests he may have been responding to Saturday’s Warrior), “‘Soul mates are fiction and an illusion.”⁷ An illusion, a mirage leading one away from self-directed, agency-based mate-seeking and into a sort of romantic roulette in hopes of accidentally finding the one-and-only soul mate.

Indeed, a one-and-only soul mate, as demonstrated by Added Upon and Saturday’s Warrior, is never a matter of agency. In neither story is even the premortal falling-in-love shown to be a matter of choosing. It’s a matter of happening. And if such soul mates do exist, then President Kimball was wrong: soul mates aren’t fiction—agency is. The soul-mate conceit—the entire premortal romance—is in conflict with core Mormon doctrine.

So when the werewolf Leah—the one Sam rejected when he imprinted on Emily–wants to have her romantic choices made for her, Jacob rightly calls her on that desire, telepathically calling it “just another way of getting your choices taken away from you.” She parries that “Sam, Jared, Paul, Quil . . . don’t seem to mind,” to which Jacob replies, “None of them have a mind of their own.”⁸ Implying that, though they may be happy, it is at the cost of their personal freedom.

Jacob attempts to take control of his romantic interests when he leaves Bella to allow her to pursue another. But this use of his agency plunges Jacob into romantic agony, leading him to double back on his words to Leah and covet the agency-free imprinting process.  “Seemed like maybe getting your choices taken away from you wasn’t the very worst thing in the world. Maybe feeling like this was the worst thing in the world,” he laments.⁹ And when imprinting finally does happen for Jacob and the imprintee’s mother takes issue, he can only protest, “You know it’s not something I can control” and “It wasn’t my idea” and “It was involuntary!”¹⁰ But, with his agency removed, he is finally happy.   And, after all, isn’t happiness the object and design of our existence?¹¹

Any attempt by the reader to resolve the apparent disconnect between agency and happiness requires a return to Meyer’s Mormon heritage and the climactic event in Mormonism’s premortal narrative. As Honan describes the conflict in Added Upon, the question was whether to “retain our agencies to choose . [...] [or] Without that privilege [...] cease to be intelligences, and become as inanimate things [...] [saved without] choice on our part.” This, according to Mormon understanding, was the central conflict of premortal life, and Meyer’s adaptation of the premortal romance for her werewolves revives the War in Heaven here in the mortal plane, showcasing the difficulties inherent in the premortal-romance formula, providing neither a “glimpse of past glories” nor an “atmosphere of peace and assurance” nor a sense of “why they’re here / [Nor] . . . who they really are.”¹²

Instead, Meyer’s werewolves are left with no comforts beyond those given them in relationships they did not choose for themselves. And Meyer doesn’t allow the question of agency to slip to the side with a manufactured premortal excuse. She has not forgotten that, in Mormon doctrine, agency “is the specific gift by which God made his children in his image and empowered them to grow to become like him through their own progression of choices.”¹³ The werewolves’ loss of agency in this matter suggests a stopped progression and complicates the pat conclusions presented in previous premortal romances. Speaking with Time Magazine, Meyer called “free will [...] a huge gift from God.” ¹⁴ By stripping it from her werewolves, by making their happiness dependent upon losing their freedom, she makes an artistic choice that resonates deeper with readers who understand the decidedly Mormon ethos upon which she made that choice.

Which is exactly we as Saints need to redouble our efforts to bring the gospel to these tortured souls. Just imagine the werewolves’ joy when you explain to them that they, like Rupert and Signe, like Julie and Todd, were not forced into love by the vagaries of nature, but encountered each other long ago, before the worlds were, as they sat in a heavenly counsel, surreptitiously holding hands as the creation of the world was planned.

cover image: flickr

1 November 2009

“Ecology and Reverence in LDS Perspective” BYU professor Steve Peck will speak about the relationship between Mormonism and environmental stewardship.

6:00 pm Sunday November 1, at the Sunstone office, 343 N. Third West, Salt Lake City.

17 November 2009

“What Does Religious Studies Bring to the Study of Mormonism?” Jan Shipps, long-time scholar of Mormonism, will speak about how the field of religious studies equips scholars of Mormonism.

Tuesday November 17, in the Level 4 Meeting Room at the Main Library in Salt Lake City, 210 East 400 South, Salt Lake. Mingling at 6:30 pm, lecture starts at 7:00 pm.

4 December 2009

Sunstone Christmas Party! We’re decking the halls of the Sunstone office for a festive gathering of friends. Plan for an evening of lively conversation, plenty of holiday cheer, and a charitable project to be announced. If you can, please bring an appetizer or finger food to share.

Friday December 4, 6:00 – 9:00 pm at the Sunstone office, 343 N. Third West, Salt Lake City.
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