18 years later, still a waiting list

I was standing in the local public library today on my lunch hour, checking out the books on offer at their standing book sale, when I heard the following conversation:


Staff Member: "No, The Philosopher's Stone is the first one."


Man with small child: "Oh, then which is the second one?"


Staff Member: "The second one? That's The Chamber of Secrets."


Man with small child: "Then that's the one I want."


Staff Member, checking her computer: "Sorry, sir, all copies of The Chamber of Secrets are currently out with clients. Would you like to go on a waiting list?"


My jaw dropped for two reasons: 1) that there could be a single person in the English-speaking world who doesn't already know the titles of the Harry Potter books in their proper order (smile); and 2) that 18 years after it was published, The Chamber of Secrets is still in such demand at my local public library that there is a waiting list to borrow it.


I think it is great that the Harry Potter novels continue to be popular, both in book stores and in libraries. I would think that most successful books are released, enjoy a period of popularity in book stores, a longer period of popularity in libraries, then fade away again, only to re-emerge if and when they are made into movies.


But J.K. Rowling's novels seem to be maintaining a high level of popularity even 18 years after they were published!


I also think it's neat that the man who was inquiring about the Harry Potter books seemed to be about 30 years old and his son maybe 4 or 5. That means that a guy who perhaps read HP when he was 12 is getting ready to read them again, perhaps with his own child, two decades later.


I had to stop myself from rushing over and offering the man a sermon on the wonders of Harry Potter, telling myself to be satisfied with the knowledge that Harry Potter lives on.

Rowling shows great care in orchestrating her climactic scenes

As I finished reading The Chamber of Secrets (actually, La chambre des secrets, since I read it in French) the other day, it occurred to me that J.K. was very careful to ensure that Harry faced the final confrontation in each novel alone.

And, since I have been highly critical of the fact that the film makers did everything they could to make the ending of the final movie, The Deathly Hallows, Part 2, a duel between Harry and Voldemort with the fate of the entire world hanging in the balance (where I felt Jo made it very clear 1) that the battle was not Harry's alone and 2) that the tide was actually turning in favour of the defenders of Good before Harry duels the Dark Lord), I wondered why Rowling took such great pains to separate our hero from Ron and Hermione at the end of each of the first two books.

I doubt the following summary is necessary for anyone who is into Harry Potter enough to be reading this bug but, for anyone not familiar with Books 1 and 2, here is what happens:

In The Philosopher's Stone, Hermione and Ron are with Harry when he first sets out to get past all of the protections around the Stone to save it from the antagonist but Ron drops off after he gets injured in the chess match while Hermione solves the potions riddle for Harry only to be forced to turn back since there is only enough of the move-forward potion for one. Harry is, clearly, the one who must go on (as Hermione points out) so he is alone for the final battle.

Meanwhile, in The Chamber of Secrets, Hermione has already been petrified, leaving Harry and Ron to use the information she has collected to find the Chamber and save Ginny. But Harry loses Ron when Ron's wand backfires on Lockhart and causes a cave-in that can't be shifted in tie to save Ginny. Harry is past the wall of rubble; Ron trapped behind it with the befuddled Lockhart. Once again, Harry must face the final battle alone.

The question is: why?

Rowling makes it a clear point of focus as the novels move on that, while Harry is at the centre of the storm that is Lord Voldemort's return, the battle against the Dark Lord and his minions is shared by everyone. Hermione and Ron, in particular, show continued dedication to the battle throughout the rest of the books.

I thought about this question for some time and I think the answer is quite clear. And fairly simple.

When Harry finally faces Voldemort with a companion in tow (Cedric Diggory in the fourth book, The Goblet of Fire), Voldemort is cold-blooded about what he requires his disciples to do with anyone who shows up other than Harry. While the Dark Lord's instructions with regard to Harry are clear and consistent ("Leave him to me"), Voldemort does not hesitate in the graveyard in book 4 when Harry shows up with a friend: "Kill the spare," he orders and Diggory is summarily dismissed.

Rowling recognised in the first two books that it was in the Dark Lord's character simply to kill anyone who gets in his way. She could not permit Hermione or Ron to be there at the end because they would die instantly. Not only would that be an incredible waste of these wonderful characters, it would be a great deal too much for the young readers in the target audience to bear.

As a result, she arranged things to ensure that Harry met Voldemort alone in Books 1 and 2. Book 3 involved only the Dark Lord's henchman and not You Know Who himself, so Hermione and Ron could take part in the climax of the story.

Then, when Jo felt her readers were mature enough, she ends Book 4 with the death of Harry's companion at the climactic scene. And she makes darn sure it's not one of her readers' beloved inner circle.

Those are some pipes!

Question: How big are the pipes that inhabit the walls of Hogwarts Castle?


Seriously, what is their diameter?


I'm currently re-reading The Chamber of Secrets (in French) and it has occurred to me that I have always simply taken it for granted that the Basilisk that lives in the Chamber makes its way around the school through the pipes, as Hermione deduces.


But think about it. That great big snake is described in the climactic scene of the novel as being massive. Fawkes, a fairly good-sized bird, flies around its head in an effort to blind it. Harry battles it with the Sword of Gryffindor, a pretty fair sized weapon in its own right, and kills it by thrusting this sword into the Basilisk's head.


That means that the pipes through which it travels must be fairly large themselves. Huge, in fact.


Does that make sense? Don't pipes need to be large enough to perform their function but small enough to fit within walls and floors, to keep the water that passes through them under enough pressure to be useful?


I don't know what the answer is. Maybe the Basilisk can make itself very long and thin. Or maybe the pipes really are ridiculously large.


But it seems strange to me, that's all.

A new source for clues to an long-considered question

I'm a little disgusted with myself, to be honest.


As anyone who has read this blog will know, I am fascinated by the process by which J.K. Rowling wrote the seven Harry Potter novels, by how her planning for the series developed over time and was (or perhaps was not) influenced by other factors, such as the success of the early books, the making and release of the early films, and input from media and fans.


To date, I have limited my search for clues as to that process solely to the books themselves. And there has been plenty of evidence there.


But, today, for some reason, I stumbled upon a new source of information on this issue that so strongly interests me, a source that has existed and been available to me almost since the day I started this blog. I had simply never thought of accessing it.


The source is early interviews with Rowling herself. Interviews that were written or recorded while she was still in the process of writing the books.


I know, I know, I have also long proclaimed that I am not particularly interested in what Rowling has had to say since the books were released on how to interpret them or what happens to the characters after the time period covered in the books is over.


That's still, for the most part, true.


But I think I have been a bit of a fool not to avail myself of the mountains of information available in these early interviews when it comes to coming to an understanding of the process of planning and writing and the impact other factors had on the yet-to-be-written books.


For example, I found today this fantastic video on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kn7nlfoMcwQ.


It features an interview conducted in a Scottish coffee shop with J.K. Rowling after The Philosopher's Stone had become a success in England but before it had actually appeared on book shelves in other European countries and in North America.


In the interview, J.K. talks with some awe at the size of the advance she has just received from Scholastic Books in the U.S. for that first novel -- I wonder if she knew at that point that Scholastic would require so many ridiculous changes to The Philosopher's Stone (including to the title) to make it more palatable to American readers?


She mentions her hopes that the book will be popular in Finland and she talks about how she is currently in talks with film studios about doing a movie version.


Most importantly to me, she makes several comments about her plans for the Harry Potter series. She says she has already completed the second book (The Chamber of Secrets), that she is working on the third (The Prisoner of Azkaban) and that she envisions the series as comprising seven books, with Harry ultimately achieving the status of being a fully trained wizard.


And she admits that the success of the first book, and the massive interest in it in the United States, caused her to develop writer's block for a month while she was writing the second novel. That's the kind of impact by outside factors that interests me. I also wonder: how much did her vision of Harry Potter, the other characters, the plots and the magical world, change as a result of those outside factors as she continued to write the books?


I have to watch this video a couple of more times to glean from it all that I can. And then I have to scour the internet for more interviews (whether in print or in video format) with Rowling that were conducted while she was still writing the books, when the completion of the series was still in the future.


It's an exciting thought. I can't wait to start on that journey.

Enemies of Quidditch Beware...

Does it make you laugh too that, even as a crowd of Hogwarts teachers is gathered around a Petrified Mrs. Norris trying to figure out what happened to her in The Chamber of Secrets, Snape's first thought is how to use the situation to help Slytherin win at Quidditch?

I laugh out loud every time I read the scene.

Here they are, facing what is to that point one of the most significant, scariest threats ever to face Hogwarts and Professor Snape's only worry is how to gain an advantage for his Q-team. He suggests to Dumbledore, in his silkiest of voices, that Harry should be suspended from playing Quidditch until the mystery is resolved.

Love it.

Even better is the fact that Professor McGonagall, Deputy Head Mistress, immediately jumps to her team's defence.

Love it love it love it.

Further to the question, does it seem fair to you that 1) McGonagall was allowed to purchase the latest racing broom for her team's new Seeker in Book One, making it all but assured that Gryffindor's quidditch fortunes would improve significantly by giving its team a HUGE advantage over everyone else and 2) that Mr. Malfoy would be allowed to buy the entire Slytherin team even better brooms the following year?

I have to admit, I think it's kind of poetic justice that McGonagall's cheating is so effectively and overwhelming countered by the Malfoys in book two. If glorious, honourable Gryffindor can cheat, then certainly Slytherin can cheat too and do an even better job of it.

The Vanishing Cabinets appear...

As anyone who has read this blog will know, I'm quite interested in attempting to find objective evidence, in the texts themselves, of the extent to which J.K. Rowling had planned the seven-book Harry Potter story arc when she was writing the early novels.

My suspicion is that, while she may have had some vague notion that she would try to write a novel for every year Harry was at Hogwarts and while she recognized from the outset that the underlying story would be the Harry-vs-Voldemort plot, she had not really started to plan things in detail until the fourth or even fifth book.

Then I run smack into the Vanishing Cabinets.

As you all know, the Vanishing Cabinets play an extremely important role in the pivotal events of The Half-Blood Prince. Draco Malfoy uses the connection between the Cabinet that he finds at Bourgin & Burkes and the one that exists in the Room of Requirement to sneak Death Eaters into Hogwarts on the fateful night when Dumbledore meets his end.

What's amazing to me (and a clear suggestion that J.K.'s planning was much more extensive than I tend to give her credit for) is the fact that Rowling shows us both Vanishing Cabinets early in Book 2, The Chamber of Secrets. Even as she wrote her second Harry Potter novel, it appears clear that Rowling had at the very least an inkling that she would use these cabinets again.

Even more importantly, she introduces us to the idea that one of the cabinets, which she does not yet identify as a Vanishing Cabinet, is in Borgin & Burkes and the other one is already in Hogwarts.

Remember?

When Harry's first attempt at travelling via Floo Powder goes awry, he ends up in the creepy shop on Knockturn Alley. When Draco and his father walk into the shop seconds later, Harry hides himself in what Rowling describes as "a large black cabinet".

Not long thereafter, when Nearly Headless Nick wishes to save Harry from Flitch's clutches, he persuades Peeves to drop a very heavy piece of furniture on the floor directly above the caretaker's office. That piece of furniture? A "large black and gold cabinet", which after Peeves is through with it is badly damaged and in need of repair.

Repair that would come four books later at the hands of Draco Malfoy.

Now, it's possible that J.K. wasn't planning anything when she wrote these scenes for the second novel and that it was only when she came to book six that she realized she might be able to use them to help her plot along at that point in time.

But I'm more apt to think that Rowling had a plan, even as early as The Chamber of Secrets. She purposely introduced us to these two cabinets and she purposely placed one in the Dark-Arts store and one in Hogwarts.

Cool.

One question, however. I have always thought of Hogwarts as being a huge stone castle. If the floor between the classroom and Filtch's office is stone, would it have transmitted the crash of the dropping  Vanishing Cabinet down to the occupants of the office below?

In praise of The Prisoner but with questions

I love The Prisoner of Azkaban. The more often I read the Harry Potter novels, the more I come to recognise how clearly this novel rises above the others in my estimation.

I think J.K. has been quoted as saying that it was the easiest of the books for her to write and I think that shows too, in the quality of the narrative, in the smooth flow of the writing, in the intensity of the experience for the reader. It reads like a spectacular roller coaster ride, a smooth but terrifying journey.

I'm about a fifth of the way through Azkaban again and, as usual, enjoying it very much. I enjoy our first meeting with Stan Shunpike as much on this, my 20th or so reading, as I did on my first reading. I am impressed with the way Rowling, truly one of the most clever writers I've ever read, is able to focus the attention of the story on Ron's rat, Scabbers, in the early part of the book without giving the reader the slightest inkling that the rat is, truly, the central character in the novel.

Rowling simply inserts Scabbers (and his conflict with Hermione's new cat, Crookshanks) as a constantly arising point of conflict between Ron and Hermione and allows her reader to focus on the conflict without recognising that she is putting Scabbers squarely into our field of vision on a regular basis.

I have a couple of questions, though, on issues which I think might be engendered by the speed with which Rowling wrote this book:

1. Why does no one mention, either to Harry or otherwise, that Sirius Black was a member of the Order of the Phoenix in this novel? Shunpike, for example, states in a matter-of-fact way that Black was one of Voldemort's key supporters. Was he? We learn later that he was a member of the Order, the group actually fighting Voldemort. Could his apparent betrayal of James and Lily and his purported murder of 13 people be sufficient to make everyone forget his role with the Order? I would think they would be talking more about his betrayal, in the end, rather than his place with Voldemort.

2. Why does Lupin have "Professor R. J. Lupin"  stamped "in peeling letters" on his case at the start of the book? He wasn't a professor before this year and he doesn't continue to teach afterwards. We get no indication throughout the rest of the novels that he is a trained educator: his position teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts in Harry's third year appears to be a "one of" for him, welcomed employment thanks to Dumbledore. So why would he own a battered old case with "Professor R. J. Lupin" stamped on it in peeling letters?

3. Why do the Weasley's choose to take a holiday in Egypt as their "special treat" with the winnings from the Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw? Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone to Egypt just the previous Christmas, a trip that their children were apparently welcome to enjoy with them but had chosen not to do so (see The Chamber of Secrets). Wouldn't they have chosen some other place for their celebratory holiday, a place they hadn't just visited?

4. What happens to Crookshanks in the rest of the books? He plays such a big role here and certainly Sirius says later in the book that Crookshanks is "the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met". Yet he doesn't really do much for the rest of the series of novels. Why not?

Picky points, I know. As readers of this blog know, I just love to find these little questions, to point out these minor issues in Rowling's incredible books. I hope I'm not offending any one; I just find it fun to do.

Hermione would never tear a page from a book!

Sometimes I worry I'm too picky when I'm spotting problems in the Harry Potter novels, especially the early ones. I mean, no writer is perfect and, especially in novels aimed at children, we shouldn't expect the story to make perfect sense to an adult every step of they way.

So I try to tell myself to back off, give J.K. a break, the benefit of the doubt.

But I still can't get past the fact that, in The Chamber of Secrets, Rowling has Hermione tear part of a page out of an old library book and carry the scrap around with her. It bothered me the first time I read the book - I remember saying to myself, "Wait a minute, the Hermione I know would never damage a valuable old book like that!" - and it still bothers me now.

The Hermione I know loves books so much that she would never purposely damage one, not to mention an old and valuable one owned by her school. Remember how scandalised Hermione was in The Half-Blood Prince when she saw Harry tearing apart his new potions text? She was outraged.

And yet we're supposed to believe that, just over three years earlier, that same young woman would have gone into the Library, taken an ancient reference book down from the shelf and ripped a part of a page out of it? No way. Our Hermione would have copied the short section she wanted onto her own piece of parchment, noted the title, author and publication date of the book from which the information came, and returned the book carefully to its place on the shelf.

I think, to be honest, that this little issue is an example of how, in the early novels, Rowling didn't quite have as clear and settled an understanding of her characters as she would have when she wrote the later novels.

And it's also an interesting demonstration of how sometimes the readers of a series of novels feel they've gotten to know the characters very well very quickly, so much so that they are willing to challenge the actions of those characters in the novels when such actions don't match their understanding of the character.

Understanding Hermione at an early point in their friendship

One of the things that impresses me most about J.K.'s writing is how good she is at having her characters develop self-awareness realistically.

O.K. That was a bit of a complicated sentence to go with the complex thought.

Let me start again. I am impressed with the way J.K. shows her characters learning about themselves and about each other. She does it in such a realistic way and it adds a great deal to our enjoyment, as readers, of her books.

Yes, that seems a simpler way of expressing the thought.

Here's an example of what I mean:

Late in The Chamber of Secrets, as the hero trio makes their way to a quidditch match against Hufflepuff, Harry hears the Basilisk's voice for the first time in several months. He jumps but Hermione and Ron hear nothing. This leads to an epiphany for Hermione.

"I think I've just understood something," she exclaims. "I've got to go to the library!"

And she sprints away without explaining further.

A great moment. A classic Hermione moment. We as readers register it as just that: a classic Hermione moment. And, thanks to Rowling's creativity as a writer, so do Ron and Harry.

Harry asks, "What does she understand?" and Ron replies, "Loads more than I do."

It's a laugh out loud moment. But it's so true. Even though we are only about a book and three quarters into the story, we know that Hermione understands loads more than do Harry or Ron.

In her genius, however, Rowling doesn't just leave it there. She follows up with the self-awareness piece-de-resistance. Harry says to Ron, "By why's she got to go to the library?"; Ron's response captures the essence of the character of their friend:

"Because that's what Hermione does," he says. "When in doubt, go to the library."

Wonderful. True. And oh so real. It would become a running joke of the novels that Hermione turns to her books or to the Hogwarts library whenever a question arises that she cannot answer instantly.

And I think it's absolutely fitting that, in this particular moment of The Chamber of Secrets, Ron would voice this understanding of Hermione's character out loud.

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.

Ron starts Hogwarts at a significant disadvantage

I'm wondering if maybe Ron Weasley was at a bit of an unfair disadvantage in his first couple of years at Hogwarts. Even more so than is at first obvious.

Why? Because of his wand.

As he admits to Harry in their important first meeting on the Hogwarts Express, Ron is using "Charlie's old wand". Rowling later describes it as "a very battered looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end." That something white, Ron explains, is the unicorn-hair core poking out.

Two reasons this might be a problem for Ron: first, because it is clear that this wand did not choose Ron as its master; and, second, because of the damage this wand has suffered even before it is broken at the start of The Chamber of Secrets (when the flying car is attacked by the Whomping Willow, Ron's wand is one of the casualties).

Remember what Ollivander said to Harry when our hero bought his own wand? "And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand." As we learn later, this simple rule is not entirely accurate; in fact, the full rule is that you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand, unless you win its loyalty by defeating its owner.

But Ron is using a borrowed wand from the day he starts at Hogwarts. His magical power is already inhibited by the fact that his wand did not choose him, that he is using "another wizard's wand."

Charlie, at some point, bought (and was chosen by) a new wand and Ron is left with his sloppy seconds. I doubt Ron "defeated" Charlie at any point, although it is possible that the Weasley's knew enough to have a pre-Hogwarts Ron disarm Charlie so that the wand transferred its allegiance to the little boy.

That's an interesting thought, to be honest. Hmmm...

The second factor, the damage, is not so easily dismissed. There is evidence throughout the novels that a damaged wand will not function as well as one in good condition. Recall the horror Ollivander displays when he realises that Hagrid might be attempting to use his own broken wand (and Hagrid's own inept spellcasting with the damaged wand). Remember how much worse Ron's own wand performs after it is further damaged by the Whomping Willow.

And think about the scene in The Goblet of Fire when the four Tri-Wizard Champions present their wands for inspection prior to the beginning of the competition. Dumbledore explains that Ollivander will examine their wands "to ensure that they are in good condition before the Tournament." The implication is that, if a wand has been damaged in any way, it might not perform properly and would, therefore, be a danger to its owner.

Ron's wand is already rather badly damaged ("battered" is the term J.K. uses to describe it) when he arrives at Hogwarts. In its battered state, it probably can't perform as well for Ron as a new wand that had chosen him would.

It's no wonder Ron struggles in his first two years at Hogwarts. It's only after his parents buy him a new wand in the summer before his third year that he has an instrument through which his magical power can be properly channeled: a new wand, in perfect condition, that has chosen him.

The vanishing cabinet appears

More evidence that maybe J.K. was planning the whole series right from the start: in the second book, The Chamber of Secrets, Peeves saves Harry from Filch's clutches by dropping a massive object onto the floor above the caretaker's office.

The object? A vanishing cabinet.

As we all know, it was with the help of that same vanishing cabinet that Draco Malfoy managed to sneak Death Eaters into Hogwarts to help him kill Dumbledore in The Half-blood Prince, the second to last book.

I realise that much more careful readers than me have noticed this little detail a long time ago but it jumped out at me this morning as I read the second novel over breakfast. Peeves drops a vanishing cabinet! Amazing.

So either Rowling had it all planned, and took care to describe the dropped furniture as a "vanishing" cabinet rather than just a "cabinet", or she got to the sixth book and thought, "hmm, how should Draco do this? Didn't I mention an interesting piece of furniture in one of the first books that might help me out now?"

As always, I'm a little bit in awe of both her writing and her planning/memory.

Getting to know the Dark Lord

Ever since my online conversation with Anonymous, I've been thinking a lot about Voldemort, his life and his portrayal in both the books and movies in the Harry Potter series.

Just yesterday, I was reading the last part of Harry Potter et La Chambre des Secrets (the French translation of Rowling's second novel) and reviewed, once again, our first meeting with Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord's youthful self. What an interesting presentation that was!

Voldemort's shadow hangs over the early novels, even though his appearances in these books are brief. In The Philosopher's Stone, Harry learns of Voldemort at first from Hagrid and it is Hagrid's fearful, halting explanations of who the Dark Lord is and what he had done to Harry's parents that set the tone for Voldemort's influence on the rest of the series of books.

In the movie version of that first novel, Robbie Coltrane does a great job of capturing the fear and paranoia that continues to grip the magical world, even though ten years have passed since Voldemort disappeared. I am particularly fond of the way Coltrane spits out the word "Codswallop" in that scene. He's just so vehement about it: "Some people say he's dead. Codswallop, I say."

We catch our first glimpse of Voldemort at the end of that first book, a shrivelled face that emerges from the back of Quirrell's head in the final battle over the fabled Stone. But it is only when Harry plunges into the diary in The Chamber of Secrets that J.K. begins the wonderful process of serving up, in tantalising pieces, the story of Voldemort's younger years. The scene in the Chamber provides even more of these morsels.

The Tom Riddle of the second novel is a handsome, well-spoken, seemingly quiet young man. We learn he is an orphan, with a Muggle father and a magical mother, that he desperately hopes to escape the orphanage and that he is a remarkably brilliant student. We also learn that he is a Parselmouth and, oh yes, that he is the direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders of the Hogwarts School.

This all seems very positive, especially if you can see the Slytherin relationship as merely a sign that Riddle is related to magical royalty rather than a sign that he is associated with a Muggle-hating bigot.

But then we meet the memory of Riddle in the Chamber. This Riddle is portrayed as self-centred, vindictive and judgmental. He brags about his ability to charm people in order to get his way. For the first time, we see his willingness to see others as pawns in his game, as tools to be used and cast aside. His ridicule of the 11-year-old Ginny Weasley for the childishness and banality of her diary entries, for her little girl hopes and fears, confirm him as a hateful, spiteful individual and his complete lack of concern or empathy over her impending death is a telling foreshadowing of his future behaviour.

We also get a glimpse of two weaknesses in Riddle that would continue to plague Voldemort in his adult life. The first is his fear of Dumbledore. Already as a 16 year old, Riddle struggles with the power Dumbledore seems to have over him, with his frustration over his inability to charm the brilliant wizard, to blind Dumbledore to his evil intentions. Even as he brags that Dumbledore was chased from Hogwarts by the mere memory of Voldemort, Riddle reveals his own inability to deal with Dumbledore's unique ability to stand up to him.

The second weakness we encounter is Voldemort's underestimation of the power of things that do not interest him or that he does not understand. It never occurred to Riddle that Lily Potter's decision to sacrifice herself out of love for her son would provide Harry with the protection he needed to survive Voldemort's attack. And when Harry points this fact out, Riddle both recognises and dismisses it, seeing it only as evidence that Harry alone could not have withstood him.

When Fawkes, the Phoenix, arrives to help Harry, bringing with him the Sorting Hat, Riddle mocks Harry and Dumbledore relentlessly. A song bird and a moth-eaten hat, he laughs. This is the help the great Dumbledore sends you? Even as a 16-year-old, Riddle understands only certain types of power, only certain kinds of magic. And he pays for it. The hat provides Harry with the Sword of Gryffindor, the weapon he needs to kill the Basilisk. Meanwhile, Fawkes proves invaluable, first blinding the great snake and then saving Harry from the Basilisk's venom with his healing tears.

We can't forget that one of Voldemort's greatest flaws is his inability to recognise power in forms he cannot or refuses to understand. He is all but destroyed by the power of Lily's love and sacrifice for Harry. He underestimates the power of house elves, never considering that an elf like Kreacher could infiltrate the cave and escape with the locket Horcrux. He dismisses the possibility that Snape's love for Lily Potter might be so strong that Snape would spend much of his adult life working to bring about the defeat of Lily's murderer.

That's a great deal of information to pack into what is, in fact, a relatively short scene in the second novel. It speaks volumes for J.K.'s abilities as a story teller but does it undermine Anonymous' criticism that Voldemort is flat and one-dimensional throughout the books?

I have to admit that I'm not sure it does. I may have to accept that Anonymous is right but credit Rowling with intentionally creating a single-minded, one-dimensionally evil character and leave it at that.

What are your thoughts?

Rowling fools us into suspecting Hagrid

It's interesting the way J.K. gets her readers to believe that Hagrid was guilty of opening the Chamber of Secrets the first time fifty years before the novel of the same name.

She simply shows us Tom Riddle's memory and, despite the fact that it proves absolutely nothing, we believe it to be proof. And then she has Harry, Hermione and Ron fighting very hard not to believe that Hagrid is the culprit but finally convincing themselves (and us) that he is, in fact, guilty.

It's neat writing. By having her characters argue the same points that her readers are arguing, she convinces both them and us. She preempts our doubts by presenting them directly to us through the terrific trio.

And then, once we're completely fooled, she turns the table on us.

Even neater is the fact that, even though she's shown us that she can use this strategy effectively to prove Hagrid guilty when he is, in fact, innocent, we still fall for the same trick with regard to Snape throughout the rest of the novels.

Writers can learn a lot from reading Rowling and paying attention to the strategies she uses to beguile her readers. We can all learn a thing or two from the master.

Tom Elvis Jedusor? Give me a break!

Well they sure fooled me. I've looked in every French dictionary I can find, I've asked French-speaking friends at work, and I can't find any proof that "jedusor" is, actually, "riddle" in French. Which means that either I am a terrible researcher or Google translation is wrong and the translator of The Chamber of Secrets is too clever.

So Tom Jedusor is a made up name that has no relation to Rowling's original Tom Riddle. That kind of stinks, I think.

And imagine my surprise when I turned the page and found out that the French Voldemort's full name is Tom Elvis Jedusor (which, by the way, turns out to be an anagram of the sentence "Je suis Voldemort", the French version of "I am Voldemort"). I actually snuck a peek at the end of the book to confirm this.

Now, in the original English, his name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, which is an anagram of "I am Lord Voldemort", with Marvolo representing his grandfather's name. Does that mean that the French grandfather is actually Elvis Gaunt (or however they translated Gaunt into French; my dictionary says it's "Decharne"). So maybe Riddle's grandfather will turn out to be "Elvis Decharne".

I know, some of you have already read the rest of the books in French and know what Marvolo Gaunt's name turns out to be but don't tell me. "Elvis" was a bit of a shock but fun nonetheless.

Jedusor me this!

I know that my online French dictionaries are telling me that the word "jedusor" means "riddle" in English. And yes, this straight translation from "Tom Riddle" to "Tom Jedusor" in the French version of The Chamber of Secrets (La Chambre des Secrets) is, therefore, technically correct.

But I still find it weird to find "Jedusor" where "Riddle" should be. I'm not sure which change bothers me more: Rogue for Snape or this one.

And I wonder: if I had been born and raised as a French speaker, would the word "Jedusor" carry with it all of the same connotations for my French self as the word "Riddle" has for my English self?

"Riddle" has so many meanings and associations for me that it certainly imbues the character, Tom Riddle, with automatic depth. "Riddle" means a puzzle but more difficult. "Riddle" means to splatter something or fill it with holes. "Riddle" recalls the "Riddler" from Batman fame, especially Frank Gorshin's incarnation of the Riddler on the cheesey Batman TV show of the 1960s. You remember: he kept sending Batman notes saying, "Riddle me this". What should it be: "Jedusor me this"?. "Riddle" brings back that quote about being a mystery wrapped up in an enigma.

Does "Jedusor" carry all of those meanings, all of those associations, all of that depth.

You encounter a character named "Riddle" and you already have an idea of what he's like. Can we say the same about "Jedusor"?

I'm not sure. But I do know that the word "Riddle" is, for me at least, a great deal more sinister sounding than "Jedusor". And that's important too.

A French Parselmouth is "un Forchelang"

I'm still working my way slowly through The Chamber of Secrets in French and quite enjoying it. I've just read the part where Harry first discovers that he is a Parselmouth (in French, that's "un Forchelang").

There's a scene where Harry has gone to the Library to try to find Justin Finch-Fletchley to explain to him what really happened at the Duelling Club. Instead, Harry overhears several Hufflepuffs talking about him. It's a nice little scene and our true introduction to Ernie MacMillan and Hannah Abbott.

This reminded me of the fact that they actually filmed this scene for the second movie, with Ernie explaining to the others why he thinks Harry is the son of Slytherin. It was edited from the theatrical release. It's included in the extras on the Blu Ray, however, almost word for word as it is presented in the book.

The funny thing is, this is one of the scenes that I was very happy they cut. As I said above, it's not a bad scene in the book but, in the film, the acting is so poor and mechanical that it really took away from the impact of the movie. I figure the young actors in the scene must have been pretty disappointed to find themselves on the cutting-room floor but I think it was a good decision to leave this scene out.

Colin Creevey and Rowling's cleverness

J.K.'s cleverness and creativity as a writer never cease to amaze me. As you know, I'm currently reading The Chamber of Secrets in French, which is giving me a chance to re-read that second novel with the intense concentration required when reading in a second language.

This time through, I noticed the really neat way Rowling came up with to explain the rules of Quidditch again without making it seem repetitive and boring for people who had read her first novel over and over again. She introduces Harry's biggest fan, Colin Creevey, and has him grill Harry with questions about Quidditch as Harry heads out for his first team practice of second year.

This approach allows Rowling to develop both of their characters, move their relationship forward and re-explain the rules of Quidditch all at once. It's pretty clever and also helpful for those readers who haven't read the books over and over again.

Wondering why the Basilisk's body is still there

In the second book, Harry Potter discovers the entrance to the fabled Chamber of Secrets beneath Hogwarts and enters the Chamber to save Ginny Weasley. He must duel both the memory of Tom Riddle and his pet Basilisk to do so. Once he's killed the Basilisk, Harry uses one of its fangs to destroy Riddle's diary, which turns out to be a Horcrux.

Fast forward to the seventh book. Ron and Hermione, realising that they need some magical weapon with which to destroy the remaining Horcruxes, decide to return to the Chamber to fetch more Basilisk fangs. Ron manages to imitate the Parseltongue sounds Harry made to open the entrance, allowing them to fetch the fangs.

Now, in the novel version of The Deathly Hallows, J.K. never describes Hermione and Ron's journey into the Chamber nor what they found there. She simply has them show up a little while later, fangs in hand, to tell Harry what they did.

The film version of the last book, as I've mentioned earlier in this blog, actually lets us travel into the Chamber with Harry's friends. We see the skeletal remains of the Basilisk and watch as Ron pries the fangs from its skull.

Remember, the book Hermione found in the second novel tells us, "Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk" (Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Bloomsbury, p. 215).

My question is this: if the Basilisk is a rare, extremely dangerous species, why wouldn't any of the academic types at Hogwarts (such as the Care of Magical Creatures professors like Hagrid or Grubbly-Plank, Dumbledore or even one of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers) have gone down into the Chamber to investigate, examine and likely remove this specimen? Why is it still lying there, virtually untouched, five years later when Ron and Hermione go to find it?

The Prisoner is Hermione's film

Next up on my film festival, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azakaban. I have to admit, I am one of the many people who think of this movie as one of the best, and possibly the best, in the series.

I love the direction and editing, the very artistic transitions between scenes and the intense atmosphere the director creates throughout the picture.

But mostly I love this film because, let's face it, Hermione owns it. This is her film. Emma Watson is coming of age and so is Hermione, and both dazzle us in this third movie.

In the first movie, it was mostly Ron and Harry and, even when Hermione gets a chance to shine, she lets herself take a back seat to Harry. I hate it when, as Harry prepares to move on to face Quirrell and Voldemort on his own, Hermione dismisses her own impressive powers as mere "cleverness", telling Harry that he is the true hero. Yuck.

In The Chamber of Secrets, Hermione is petrified for most of the important events, leaving it to her male colleagues to carry the day.

So it's just great that, in The Prisoner of Azkaban, J.K. puts Ron on the injured list and leaves it to Hermione and Harry to set things right, with Hermione firmly in the lead. I love the punch (both in the book and in the movie) and I love the fact that Hermione is the one who is in control as things get crazy at the end.

In this film, the kids are starting to grow up and the stakes are getting high. Emma Watson is proving herself to be the best actor of the three leads and it's nice to see that the script gives her a meaty role with which to show off her increasing skills as an actor.

She just continues to get better as the series progresses but it's in The Prisoner of Azkaban that both Emma and Hermione get their real first chance to flex their muscles and take over.