It's not all about you, mate

In honouring Snape, Harry hoped in his heart that he too would be forgiven. The deaths at the Battle of Hogwarts would haunt Harry forever.

So stated J.K. Rowling in a tweet response to the argument over why Harry and Ginny would name one of their children, at least in part, after Severus Snape.


Whenever I read the later Harry Potter books, I just wish someone had pulled Harry aside and said, as clearly as possible, "Look mate, this is NOT all and only about you. No one is sacrificing themselves for you. This is a battle over our freedom; this is a battle of good versus evil. Just because you happen to have been placed at the centre of it, that doesn't mean we are fighting and dying for or because of you. Stop trying to make this all about you."


Ron makes a speech like this in the first part of The Deathly Hallows film and it is one of the very few things about that film that I actually like.


Because a speech like that needed to be made. Harry needed to get off his high horse and realize that the war was much bigger than him. He needed to understand that the battle was not all about him, any victory was not to his credit alone and any defeat did not fall entirely on his shoulders.


I read quotes like the one at the top of this entry from Rowling and I wonder what she really feels:


1. Is she making the point that Harry is a flawed individual, with a bit of an egotistical streak, who actually continues to believe that this was all about him and that, therefore, he is responsible for the "deaths at the Battle of Hogwarts" such that he needs to be forgiven for them? or


2. Does she, as the author, truly believe that he requires forgiveness? That the battle and the deaths were his fault?


I trust... I sincerely hope that the first possibility is true.

Throwaway line raises questions

I caught a very brief moment from The Chamber of Secrets on TV yesterday and had to laugh. The moment I saw involved Lucius Malfoy and Mr. Weasley at the end of their confrontation in Flourish and Blotts.

As you know, the two get into a fist-fight in this scene in the book but, in the movie, the confrontation is reduced to a lot of sneering and menacing talk. Be that as it may, it is an important scene to the plot as Lucius uses the melee to place Tom Riddle's diary in Ginny Weasley's book.

The book version begins with Malfoy saying to Weasley: "Busy time at the Ministry, I hear."

The book version ends with Malfoy sweeping out of the shop.

The line I caught from the movie has Malfoy exiting with the line: "See you at work."

I had never registered this line before. In the film, Malfoy apparently works at the Ministry too. In the books, he is presented as a wealthy aristocrat who has no apparent job. His influence at the Ministry is a function of his money, not his employment.

So why, in the film, do they present Malfoy as working for the Ministry? It makes no sense. It's a throwaway line, to be sure, but why is it there at all?

The next time I watch the films (if I ever watch them again!) I will have to be very careful to watch for any other evidence, in any of the films, that Malfoy in fact works for the Ministry of Magic. I can't imagine Lucius Malfoy ever working at all! Other than working at ingratiating himself with the Dark Lord :).

Is Rowling speaking to us through Arthur Weasley?

I'm not sure what to make of the following passage from The Goblet of Fire:

At this, the Veela lost control. They launched themselves across the pitch, and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching through his Omnioculars, Harry saw that they didn't look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders -- 

'And that, boys,' yelled Mr. Weasley over the tumult of the crowd below, 'is why you should never go for looks alone!'

I have to admit, I don't like the implication that could be drawn from what Mr. Weasley is saying -- physically attractive people are often evil monsters underneath -- and I particularly don't like the fact that he aims this advice at the boys in the group, leaving out the two girls, Hermione and Ginny.

Before I go into that, however, I will state that my even bigger concern is what this could say about the author, J.K. Rowling herself.

Now, I'm the last person in the world to read a novel and immediately attribute anything and everything that is said in the book (either by individual characters or even the narrator) to the author, but we have already seen that Rowling often puts her philosophy, her thoughts and ideas and opinions, into the mouths of certain of her adult characters.

Certainly, Albus Dumbledore is one such character. I think we can safely argue that Rowling uses Dumbledore to voice her perspective quite often throughout the novels. I would argue that J.K., to a lesser or greater extent, often uses other adult characters who take on parental roles in Harry's life (such as Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin) to fulfil a similar function: to inject into the narrative the author's perspective and philosophy.

So is Arthur Weasley the voice of the author in this scene? Is he speaking a life-lesson not just to the boys in his family but also to all boys reading the novel?

I hope to goodness that is not Rowling's intention since I find the sentiments expressed (that beauty often hides evil, that feminine beauty, in fact, often hides evil while masculine beauty does not, etc.) highly offensive.

But, if the intention here is not to express the author's philosophy, why is Mr. Weasley's comment included at all? It's not funny. It doesn't tell us anything about the Veela or the situation that is evolving at that moment.

The only thing the comment does is make us think a little less of Arthur Weasley. I've written on other occasions how I often feel Mr. Weasley is not portrayed as a particularly admirable character in these books but this is a low point even for him.

The passage also raises another, less serious question: if pure-bred Veela turn into nasty bird-creatures when angered, what happens to part-Veelas like Fleur Delacour when she gets mad?

What did Lucius know about Tom Riddle's diary?

I have open before me two paperback books: the first, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets; the second, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

Why?

Because I'm comparing passages dealing with Tom Riddle's purpose in re-opening the Chamber from each novel. I had thought I would find discrepancies and inconsistencies between the second book, in which Riddle (through Ginny Weasely and his diary) actually re-opens the Chamber, and the sixth book, in which Dumbledore explains to Harry Horcruxes and what information the Head Master was able to glean from the events from Harry's second year at Hogwarts.

What did I find?

Remarkable consistency.

In the second book, the memory of Tom Riddle tells Harry:

"I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

In the sixth book, Dumbledore explains:

"[The diary] worked as a Horcrux is supposed to work -- in other words, the fragment of soul concealed inside it was kept safe and had undoubtedly played its part in preventing the death of its owner. But there could be no doubt that Riddle really wanted the diary read, wanted the piece of his soul to inhabit or possess somebody else, so that Slytherin's monster would be unleashed again."

Consistent and helpful.

Even more interesting to me is that these passages seem to hint at why Lucius Malfoy would choose the particular moment he did to pass the diary along to a Hogwarts student after holding on to it for 50 years: he recognized the threat Harry Potter himself posed to Voldemort's return and hoped, by slipping the diary into Ginny Weasley's text book, to give whatever evil force the diary contained the chance to deal with Harry before Harry grew up and grew strong.

It had always been a puzzle to me why Lucius chose that moment to re-introduce the diary and, of course, there is at least one moment in the stories where he is questioned for that decision, for disposing of a precious piece of Voldemort's soul so carelessly. We are led to believe, by Dumbledore's own comment at the end of Book Two, that Lucius chose to give the diary to Ginny so that the Weasley family's reputation would be tarnished and Mr. Weasley's Muggle Protection Act would be thwarted.

But I think it was deeper. I think Lucius Malfoy knew, at least to an extent, what the diary contained and was acting under instructions from Voldemort to place it at Hogwarts when things seemed most opportune or when an intervention of this nature was most needed.

Malfoy saw the danger Harry posed on an on-going basis to the Dark Lord's return -- Harry had, after all, defeated Voldemort once again at the end of The Philosopher's Stone -- and decided it was time to bring his Master back to deal with that threat.

I agree. There is no way Voldemort told Lucius Malfoy about his intention to create Horcruxes, nor that the diary he was entrusting to Malfoy was a Horcrux, but he must have explained to Malfoy that the diary contained a power that could open the Chamber of Secrets and wreak havoc at the school.

That's my theory, at least, but I have to admit that I'm not one-hundred per cent convinced of it even now. What do you think?

Early perceptions of Arthur Weasley and the family's poverty

I like Arthur Weasley, Ron's father. I really do. I think he is an admirable character with mostly the right motives. It turns out that he's fun and he's kind and, despite his mild manner, extremely brave.

And I think it's interesting the way J.K. uses the relative poverty of his family to create tension, especially when it comes to Ron's misbehaviours in school. Just about every time Ron gets into trouble, the issue of his father losing his job comes up with the ruin of the family looming behind it.

But there's a scene involving Arthur Weasley early in The Chamber of Secrets that makes me uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. Every time I read it, I cringe.

Rowling includes a number of scenarios in the first fifty pages of the book to show just how poor the Weasleys are, from Fred and George worrying about how their parents will be able to afford all the expensive books on their school reading lists to descriptions of the Burrow that focus on its shabbiness to the fact that they will have to buy most of Ginny's school things second-hand for her first year at Hogwarts.

Things come to a head (for the reader and for Harry) when they all arrive at Gringotts. Rowling reports that Harry "felt dreadful, far worse than he had in Knockturn Alley, when [the Weasleys' vault] was opened. There was a very small pile of silver Sickles inside and just one gold Galleon. Mrs Weasley felt right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into her bag."

It is very clear that the Weasleys are poor and that every Knut they have will be spent buying school supplies for their five children who are still at Hogwarts. It's even clearer that, despite committing every Knut, they will still be forced to buy most things second hand, resulting, for example, in Ginny heading off for her first year at school with "a very old, very battered copy of A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration."

And there's nothing wrong with that. Most families have to economise in some ways and we can all respect that the Weasleys, including their children, are content to spend what money they have on important things (like helping Harry, supporting each other, etc.) even at the sacrifice of their own interests.

What bothers me is this: moments after Molly sweeps every last Knut they can lay claim to into her bag to buy second-hand supplies for her kids, Arthur Weasley feels no compunction about "taking the Grangers [Hermione's parents] off to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink" so that he can satisfy his curiosity about Muggles. He's ready to spend some of that desperately needed money at the pub even as his wife works very hard to see to the needs of their children with what's left.

Maybe it's because of my own background but I find this decision by Arthur very distasteful. He's basically putting his own personal interests ahead of those of the rest of his family. I know, most readers probably read through that section without any concerns but it just hit me as a problem the first time I read it and has stood out for me ever since.

Of course, it probably had a greater impact on me the first time I read The Chamber of Secrets because, at that point, I was just meeting Arthur for the first time. If you take this incident and add it to the other early hints that Arthur is not necessarily as supportive of his wife and family as he could be (hiding Muggle relics in the shed, putting spells on them at the risk of his own job, failing to recognise that the boys' decision to take the car and rescue Harry could have a serious impact on the entire family so that their behaviour should be the subject of discipline rather than interest and delight), you start with a decidedly negative view of this man and his commitment to his family.

Thankfully, of course, we learn as we finish reading the second book and continue into the later novels that Arthur Weasley is a thoroughly likable, honourable and committed character. But, for me at least, these first glimpses are not particularly positive.

A couple of other thought pop into mind as we read these early descriptions of the Weasley family's financial challenges:
1. Why would they buy Ginny a used copy of a textbook that Ron, Fred, George, Percy and likely the two older brothers have all had to buy as well? Why not just pass their copies down to her?
2. Where did they get the money for Ginny's wand? We know that Ron's is a hand-me-down but we get no explanation as to where Ginny's wand comes from. We learned from Harry's trip to Ollivanders in Book One that a new wand can cost seven gold Galleons so how could the Weasleys afford a new one for Ginny?
3. I find it very believable, but also very tragic, that Harry at twelve is incapable of doing anything but feel shame when he compares his own loaded bank vault with the empty one of the Weasleys. If he were older and more mature, he probably could have found ways to deal with his shame by contributing to their family economy, perhaps by paying board for the times he stayed with them or purchasing a load of groceries or something. It becomes less of an issue as the novels progress, of course. I would guess that, as Charlie and Bill develop their careers, they begin to send money back to their parents to alleviate their financial stresses.

A Fleur by any other name

I was thinking the other day about The Half-Blood Prince.  More specifically, I was thinking of the scene near the end of the book when the Wesley family gathers around Bill's hospital bed, shocked at the damage Frenrir Greyback has inflicted to Bill's face.

Remember the response Fleur Delacour gives when she feels Molly Weasley is suggesting that the wedding will now be called off?

"What do I care how 'e looks?" Fleur seethes. "I am good-looking enough for both of us, I theenk!"

How did you respond when you first read this reaction? Did you think Fleur was over-the-top vain about her own beauty? That she was a conceited, self-centered snippet?

No?

Neither did I. And, until recently, I've accepted my non-reaction to this proclamation as being absolutely normal. But is it?

If this were any other person, we would think very little of her and her vanity. But J.K. Rowling has done such a nice job of convincing us first of the magical beauty of the Veela race and second of Fleur's own individual loveliness that we never question Fleur when she makes this declaration. It's not tasteless bragging -- it's the truth, and we accept it as such.

Instead of thinking the worse of her for this statement, we (like the Weasley family) accept it as proof of her deep love for Bill and we admire her for it.

Imagine if any other character had made so outrageous a statement as this? How would we have reacted if, for example, Ginny had proclaimed that it doesn't matter that Harry is not so great looking, wears funny spectacles and is marred by an ugly scar on his forehead since she is so beautiful she makes up for his shortcomings?

I don't think we'd be too impressed, would we?

But, for Fleur, the statements seems natural and appropriate. Interesting.

Where is all the liquid luck in the Battle For Hogwarts?

Here's a question that has been bothering me for quite some time now: why did no one involved in the Battle of Hotwarts at the end of The Deathly Hallows take a nice dose of Felix Felicis before the fight started? Seriously.

Professor Slughorn introduces us to this wacky substance in the Half-Blood Prince. As you will recall, Harry gave his stash of Felix Felicis to Ron, Hermione and Ginny just before heading off with Dumbledore to Voldermort's cave to attempt to retrieve the locket Horcrux. They later credit the potion for saving their lives throughout the fight with the Death Eaters who invade Hogwarts that night.

Sure, it takes six months to brew. And sure, it is devilishly tricky to make and a disaster if it goes wrong. But Slughorn has proven himself capable and surely Snape himself should be able to brew the potion so why aren't at least some people on either side of the final battle flying on liquid luck when the fighting starts?

It's possible some are, in fact, under the influence of Felix Felicis at that time and J.K. simply decides not to tell us readers. Or, perhaps, she conveniently forgot about the potion when she wrote the seventh book because, let's face it, liquid luck would kind of undermine the drama of the final book, wouldn't it?

And that is, of course, the problem with narrative short cuts like this. Rowling needed a convincing, magical way for Harry to weedle the Horcrux memory out of Slughorn in Book Six and decided to create Felix Feilcis to accomplish that task. It sounded good at the time and even produced some fun moments. But, once she'd created the a potion that brings luck to those who drink it, she kind of found herself in a bit of a pickle in the seventh book.

Now that they know about Felix Felicis, why would Harry, Hermione and Ron not brew a batch while they're holed up at Grimmauld Place, then take a little dose of it each time they go into a particularly dangerous situation: like the Ministry, Gringott's or Hogwarts? Or, for that matter, why wouldn't one of the adults in their lives have brweed some Felix Felicis and delivered it to Harry? After all, he is their best hope for defeating Voldemort.

Yes, overuse of the potion can lead to ill effects but we have it on good authority (from J.K. herself) that Slughorn had used it twice in his lifetime with no problems and, further, that Dumbledore had used it too in his youth, though only for recreational purposes of course. So what's the issue?

This question bothers me a lot. It undermines the tension of the final book and makes me wonder why Felix Felicis isn't used more often by more witches and wizards. My personal opinion is that Rowling would have been better off finding some other way to get Harry together with Slughorn in Book Six and to let Harry's natural charms and kindness work on him rather than creating a potion that would prove so inconvenient, so counter-productive to the creation of tension in the seventh book.

I find I have to forget about the existence of Felix Felicis in order to enjoy to its fulleset the seventh book. And that's not a good sign.

Coming home to Hogwarts in The Half-Blood Prince

Now I know that I’ve probably been horribly inconsistent in this blog, especially on the subject of which Harry Potter novels I like and which I don’t, which are my favourites and which I detest.

I’ve always been that way. I find that I can hate something one moment and then, when I come back to it some time later, absolutely love it. And the other way around. I’m simply an inconsistent person.

I raise this now because I am half-way through a re-reading of The Half-Blood Prince and, much to my surprise, I’m really thoroughly enjoying it. I’ve always considered THBP to be the weakest of the seven novels and my least favourite. For some reason, however, this time around I’m completely enamoured with it.

It must have something to do with my own current situation. I’m tired, I’m not feeling well and I’m a little bored with all the snow and cold weather. So THBP is suiting my mood perfectly. It’s a quiet, introspective, character-driven book which lacks the same high-speed plotting that is featured in all of the others.

I’m enjoying spending time in the Gryffindor Common Room with Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny. I’m interested in the development of each of their characters but also of their relationships with each other. Ginny is bubbling forth as a feisty young woman and I’m enjoying Harry’s battles with his own feelings for her.

I am also quite interested in the trips into the Penseive Harry has been making with Dumbledore, exploring Voldemort’s past. I think Rowling is doing a great job of presenting this biographical information in an interesting, well-thought-out way. It’s great writing.

I wonder as well if I’m enjoying the book so much because I started reading it almost immediately after closing the cover on The Order of the Phoenix, a much more claustrophobic novel with a galloping plot. In THBP, we find ourselves returning to Dumbledore’s Hogwarts, with Hagrid and Buckbeak back on the scene and classes returning to their normal pattern.

It’s something of a comfort book, I guess. A brief, introspective pause before we launch into the fast-paced drama of the final novel.

So, if I have stated in earlier posts that I don’t like Rowling’s sixth novel, I apologise. It seems the perfect complement to my mood right now and I’m really enjoying reading it again.

The Chamber of Secrets is one of the weaker films

I am slowly working my way through the first seven Harry Potter movies in preparation for seeing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2, for a second time in the cinema.

To my surprise, I found that the second film, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, is starting to lose its luster for me. It lacks the charm of the first film and, but for a scintillating climax, it also comes across as slightly self-indulgent. Whereas the first film offered us the wonder of a first-time look at the magical world, this second movie tries but fails to recapture that magic. And I think the acting, particularly of Daniel Radcliffe and Rupert Grint, is definitely not as good.

One of its biggest drawbacks is the overbearing presence of Gilderoy Lockhart, played by Kenneth Brannagh. I'm not saying Brannagh doesn't do well with the part; I'm just saying that the silliness of the Lockhart character in the film is too much and detracts from the effectiveness of the entire movie.

Now, as I said, I do think the ending of the film is powerful, perhaps even powerful enough to save the entire movie. Harry's encounter with Tom Riddle and the Basilisk, over Ginny Weasley's dying body, is gripping. In particular, I think Fawkes, the Phoenix, is beautifully created, so fantastic that you wish the bird had a bigger role in later films.

I also like Harry's final encounter with Mr. Malfoy at the end of the movie. I still can't believe that Lucius actually intended to use the killing curse on Harry before Dobby intervened. What a great way to tell us all that the stakes are getting higher awfully quickly.

And it's also a nice reminder of just how powerful Malfoy was in the beginning. I've gotten used to him as the fallen Death Eater he becomes in the later books.

Ten days to go and ten things I like about The Deathly Hallows

Just ten more days to wait. And here is a list of ten small things I particularly like about J.K. Rowling's final novel:

1. I like the fact that Hedwig dies in an early scene, not because I have it in for the lovely owl but because her meaningless death sent a shiver through me when I first read the book as I understood fully that J.K. wasn't going to pull any punches in her final epic;
2. I like the fact that Harry, Hermione and Ron take off on their own for most of the book, giving us a chance to get to know them better, both individually and as a trio of courageous friends;
3. I like the fact that Neville keeps fighting at Hogwarts, at first with Ginny and Luna, and then after they are forced to leave;
4. I like the reception the trio gets when they enter the Room of Requirement near the end;
5. I like that Ron takes a bow when all of their classmates cheer them for escaping Gringott's on a dragon;
6. I like the fact that all of the other students refuse to let Harry keep them out of the fight;
7. I like J.K.'s description of the "Snape-shaped hole" in the window after Severus flees and the fact that she has McGonagall tell the school that Snape has "done a bunk";
8. I like how J.K. manages to make Voldemort's inability to recognise the value in others (like House Elves, for example) work against him in the end;
9. I like the redemption of Kreacher; and
10. I like the fact that J.K. slows the pace down and really makes us live Harry's experience of walking into the Forbidden Forest to die.

Bonnie is the Wright one to play Ginny

The relationship between Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter is another point of continuity and consistency from the first book to the last that tends to support the argument that J.K. Rowling did indeed plan the entire series right from the start.

As you will recall, Ginny (who is at that time too young to go to Hogwarts) pines to meet Harry at King's Cross both at the start and at the end of The Philosopher's Stone. Her interest in Harry develops further in the next couple of books to the point where she is practically unable to speak in his presence.

Then J.K. adds the nice touch of having Ginny become mature enough to go out and meet people at Hogwarts, ending up as one of the more popular girls at the school by the time books four and five roll around. We find out later, of course, that Hermione had given her some good advice: if you want Harry to notice you, you have to stop noticing him so much and get on with life.

Their relationship is beautifully written and realistically depicted, both in the books and in the movies. I think they got lucky (again) in casting Bonnie Wright when she was so young: Wright blossoms into both a terrific actor and a lovely young woman, making the Ginny/Harry romance all the more plausible.

I particularly love the description J.K. provides of the fiery look Ginny gives Harry during the wedding at the beginning of The Deathly Hallows when the Weasley aunt comments on her dress being too low cut. It's just too bad that little gem didn't make it into the movie. I think Ms. Wright could have given it some real fire.

How will Harry find the diadem in the final film?

Help me to understand this.

In the novel The Half-Blood Prince, Harry hides his potions book inside a cabinet in the Room of Requirement and marks the place where he put it by placing a strange sculpture and a rusty tiara on top of the cabinet. This is important because, at the climax of The Deathly Hallows, Harry remembers hiding his potions book and, more specifically, recalls that he used a tiara to mark the spot, a tiara which he then realises is actually the lost diadem of Ravenclaw. This diadem, of course, is a Horcrux.

In the movie version of The Half-Blood Prince, on the other hand, Ginny hides the book while Harry keeps his eyes closed, so he won't be tempted to go looking for it again. Harry never sees the tiara nor does he use it to mark the spot where the book is hidden.

So how are they going to deal with this in the final film? How are they going to explain how Harry suddenly knows where the diadem is?

Harry and friends walk into a trap

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna have just arrived at the Ministry to find that they've walked into a trap. Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange and a host of Death Eaters are waiting for them with wands ready.

After almost 600 pages of pure hell getting through Umbridge at Hogwarts, this fifth book has an amazingly exciting ending. It's only too bad that the film version, for all the wonder of its climactic scene, can't capture the complexity of the emotions, even of the action itself, presented in Rowling's book.

I watch the movies too often and read the books too seldom. Must rectify that mistake.