And the women shall lead

So Space Channel in Canada is showing the Harry Potter films all through the Victoria Day holiday weekend. I have them on blu-ray, of course, but I always find watching movies on television much more interesting than watching my own copies of them.

As anyone who has read this blog will know, I am not a fan of the movies that were made, loosely based as they were, out of J.K. Rowling's books. That being said, I have also tried to be fair and honest in identifying those areas where I feel the films have enhanced or, by necessity of the medium, adapted the books in a meaningful, interesting way.

I've just sat down in front of the television to watch the last hour of the second part of The Deathly Hallows. The first scene I saw takes place in the Great Hall where Snape demands that the students and staff of Hogwarts turn in Harry Potter and he, instead, emerges from the crowd of students to challenge Snape and, by doing so, set up the final battle of Hogwarts.

I don't love it, overall. But I love Snape in this scene ("ee - qual - lee") and I love the feeling of, I don't know how to describe it, triumph of having Harry emerge to challenge him and McGonagall step forward to defend Harry.

And it is not lost on me that McGonagall and Molly Weasley, two strong adult female characters, step forward to duel with Snape. And, even further, I love the fact the first people to step forward to protect Harry after Pansy Parkinson tries to convince the student mob to turn him over to Voldemort are women: first Ginny, then Hermione, then Cho Chang, then Katie Bell and Parvati Patil, and, as several males start to join Harry's defenders, Lavender Brown.

Add one more detail: Luna Lovegood is the one, in the film, who tells Harry not to bother to go to the Ravenclaw common room but to find, instead, the ghost of the Helena Ravenclaw to help him track down the diadem.

These are pretty strong feminist moments. While two men stand at the centre of the final conflict, it is women who provide the primary, immediate and on-going support to Harry in winning that battle. It's really quite wonderful... and unexpected, considering the fact that Rowling, for all the opportunities she had to fill the Harry Potter books with strong, dominating female characters, too often failed miserably in that regard.

While I love the books and tolerate the movies, I have to admit that, at times, the films are better than the books when it comes to their depiction of women.

Concussions can lead to good things

A recent severe concussion left me warned off reading, watching TV, listening to music... thinking for two weeks. After that, I was permitted to read but only very simple books, only children's literature.

For some people, that restriction would be an absolute curse but, when you're a huge Harry Potter fan, it's more like a blessing. I was basically told that I couldn't go to work, I couldn't do any work around the house; I just had to sit around and read Harry Potter. What a nightmare!

So, in the next four weeks, I read the entire seven-novel series over once again, from Philosopher's Stone to Deathly Hallows.

An amazing experience. A testament to the greatness of these seven books and their author.

And I noticed some things this time around (I have read each of the seven books at least 20 if not 30 times), things about which I will have to write future Potter Thoughts posts:

1. J.K. does an amazing job of creating voices for her different characters -- this leapt out at me while re-reading The Chamber of Secrets with the newly introduced Gilderoy Lockhart and Colin Creevey especially;
2. The books have some laugh-out-loud moments -- the scene where the Weasleys get trapped behind the fireplace insert at 4 Privet Drive, for example, and many others;
3. Albus Dumbledore is unfailingly polite in all situations, a practice I would do well to imitate, even if his politeness sometimes hides humour;
4. I'm not sure if Rowling remembered how she designed Number Twelve Grimmauld Place in The Order of the Phoenix by the time she came to write The Deathly Hallows -- there seem to be too many inconsistencies and discrepancies.

 I also picked up the third of the illustrated versions of the novels -- The Prisoner of Azkaban. Like the first two in this fabulous series, this one is fantastic. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Surprising!

What Rowling knew at the end of The Prisoner

Anyone who has read the entries in this blog to date will know that one of my many obsessions in relation to Harry Potter is to work out, from evidence in the books themselves, how advanced J.K. Rowling's planning was as she wrote each of the early books.


We all know that Jo has said she had created a very strong outline of the seven-novel series even before (or at least while) she wrote The Philosopher's Stone and we have no reason to doubt that. But the question that intrigues me is: just how detailed was that plan?


Having just completed a reading of The Prisoner of Azkaban (in French, mind you), I am very comfortable in saying that, by the end of the third book at least, Rowling must have progressed to a pretty impressive level of detail in her planning for the rest of the series. I say this even though I also feel quite strongly that her outline was not very detailed before that point in the writing.


Here's what I think happened:

• Rowling wrote The Philosopher's Stone with a general outline in her mind of what might play out for her characters in the future but without a great deal of detail in that outline. Sure, she might have already developed a pretty fair history for each of her main characters but I don't think she had yet developed the overarching plot of the seven-novel series yet. For example, I think it's indisputable that Jo knew Harry and Voldemort would one day face each other in a battle to the death (she introduces their enmity right at the beginning but does not resolve it at the end of the first book so she must have been planning more and she made it clear that students attended Hogwarts for seven years) but I doubt she had worked out the relationships between James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, Peter and Severus at that point and I simply cannot believe that she had planned the whole Deathly Hallows subplot;
• Rowling wrote The Chamber of Secrets grateful for the success of the first and more confident that she would be permitted to write the entire series;
• By the time she was writing The Prisoner, she knew that the world-wide success of the first two books would give her license to do what she wanted with the series and, as she wrote that third book, she began to plant much stronger, more clear seeds of what was to come in the future books.

As you no doubt are aware, Alan Rickman, the actor who portrayed Snape so memorably in the Harry Potter films, recently passed away and, after this death, it came out that he only accepted the role because, apparently, there were only three books completed at that time (so he didn't know he was enrolling himself in an eight-film commitment) and because Rowling herself told him that there would be more to the character of Snape than was being displayed in those first three novels. In fact, I believe that Rowling herself confirmed that she told Rickman, at that time, what Snape would mean when he told Dumbledore that his patronus would "always" be a doe like Lily's.


Again, I think sometimes Rowling grants herself some license to rewrite history in her recent interviews on Harry Potter but I think, from this particular situation, we can assume that she had worked out, after completing the third novel, much of the Snape-Lily relationship and the sacrifice that went with it.


Further, the end of The Prisoner contains some of the most important seeds that would later grow into key factors in the future of the series.


First, we meet Sirius Black, a character who would play a foundational role in later books. Even more than that, his family is central (in fact, ubiquitous) in the entire Voldemort/Potter story. We learn that, though he is universally believed to be evil, he is in fact good (hmm, sounds familiar, doesn't it Snape lovers?). We also see him forced to flee and put himself into hiding.


Second, we meet Buckbeak, the Hypogriff. Once again, a character who is assumed to be evil but we know to be innocent. Buckbeak too is on the run and he too will play an important role in a later book.


Third, we meet Peter Pettigrew and see Harry spare his life. In a moment of almost (and I mean almost) over-the-top foreshadowing, Dumbledore tells Harry that 1) Voldemort would not like to find out that one of his main servants owes a debt to our young hero and 2) that Pettigrew's debt to Harry will one day be a very important factor in how things play out.


Fourth, we hear the second real prophecy ever delivered by Professor Trelawney, who tells Harry that Pettigrew will escape, join the Dark Lord and help him return to power.


So I think it's pretty clear that, by the time she completed The Prisoner of Azkaban, Rowling had a clear roadmap in her mind for the later books. It still begs the question: at what point prior to the third novel's completion did she start to fill in the details?

Fly from Death? Steal from Death?

I am still brooding over the question of how to pronounce the Dark Lord's chosen name: Voldemort.


I will accept as a basic assumption J.K. Rowling's assertion that the name should be pronounced as a French word with no "t" sound at the end.


That makes sense to me. I can't say I was smart enough to catch it when I first read the books -- I have called him "Vole-de-morte" in my head from the beginning -- but it makes sense to me now.


But, as I asked several posts ago, now that we have the pronunciation of the last syllable of the name correct, how do we pronounce the first syllable?


I pointed out that there seem to be two options for that first syllable (and that each option has been used in the films by different characters): "Vole", with a long "o" sound, and "Vol", with an "a" sound to rhyme with "ball" or "tall" or "call".


I prefer the former, personally, but which is correct?


Jo says it's a French word and should be pronounced as a French person would.


So I spoke to a colleague of mine who is both a native French speaker (born and raised in France) and a big Harry Potter fan.


Interesting conversation.


First, she said that, because she is French, she pronounces the name "Vole-de-more".


Perfect. Question answered. Proper pronunciation established.


Then she said she had never noticed that, in the movies, the name's last syllable was always pronounced "morte" and its first syllable was sometimes pronounced "Vall" and sometimes "Vole". She simply heard it pronounced the way she would say it herself.


Interesting.


We then talked about what the name means in French. If you break it down into its three syllables, you will find that it is made up of three French words:


"vol", which can mean either to "steal" or to "fly";
"de", which means "from" or "of"; and
"mort", which means to "die" or "death".


Wow. My friend had never thought that through. "She's brilliant, isn't she?" she said with a smile, thinking of how carefully J.K. had developed the name.


I would have to agree. The Dark Lord's chosen name means either "fly from death" or "steal from death".


And that's exactly what he has attempted to do throughout his entire life: to escape death, to cheat death, to steal from death.


And that's exactly what the Deathly Hallows are about, aren't they:


The Cloak is meant to allow its bearer to escape Death;
The Stone is meant to allow its bearer to steal from Death (by bringing people back); and
The Wand is meant to allow its bearer to defeat/cheat Death.


Cool cool cool. So cool, it's almost scary.

First step: Acknowledge the addiction

HP and the DH... again

Ok. I admit it. I'm addicted. Harry Potter has become an addiction.

You want evidence?

Check out my new copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, in paperback. My third copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Why did I buy it?

Because it was in the library book sale, it was in perfect condition, it has a cover that I don't already own and it was just ONE DOLLAR.

That's why I bought it.

And then what did I do immediately after I bought it? I started reading it. Again. And enjoying it. Again. And thinking... my goodness, this first chapter is remarkably well written, considering the pressure J.K. must have been under to produce this seventh and final book.

Again.

I have to accept that I am now officially addicted to Harry Potter. The novels. Not the movies. Oh no, never the movies. I tolerate the movies. I am addicted to the books. I am currently reading Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone in French (Harry Potter a l'ecole des sorciers [insert accents where appropriate]) and, now, apparently, the Deathly Hallows as well.

And I am enjoying every word of each. Even the ones I am not sure I fully understand without looking them up in a French dictionary.

If you are reading this and nodding your head, thinking, "What's so crazy about that?" -- get help.

And enjoy the greatest series of books every written. In English and French!

A film's disdain for subtlety and beauty

Every time I watch the films that were made out of The Deathly Hallows, I feel a little sick.

Sometimes, I want to take a bath, to wash away the gross and icky feeling the movies leave me with.

Other times, I want to sit down and read J.K.'s original novel from cover to cover immediately, just to remind myself of how great her book is, to remove the disgusting taste that horrible film adaptation left in my mouth.

Even as I watch them, feeling more and more sick, disappointed, resentful, I can recognize that there are actually some pretty good scenes in the films. Some brief moments where David Yates and Stephen Kloves actually got it right and did credit to Rowling's original.

For example, I quite like how the Part 1 opens, with brief shots of Harry at Privet Drive watching the Dursley's pack up and go, of Hermione at her home obliviating her parents and their photos to remove any trace of herself, of Ron, standing pensively with the Burrow in the background, looking out over the fields, thinking of what is to come.

I think they do some of the bigger action scenes quite well: the assault on the Ministry, for example, and the escape from Hogwarts.

Emma Watson has some nice moments, as I've written here before, such as her smirk when the freshly returned Ron "votes" to go to see Mr. Lovegood or when she tosses Harry the sword in the Estrange vault.

I quite love the artful way they render the story of the Three Brothers. It's creative and lovely.

But then I am smacked in the face again with the bigger problems of interpretation that plague these movies, with Kloves' and Yates' apparent disdain for the subtlety and beauty of Rowling's deep psychological and emotional tale.

This disdain comes out in many different ways, in numerous decisions they made as to how to present the story, both large and small.

Among the small ones: did you notice that Harry does not liberate Mad-Eye's magical eye from Umbridge's office door at the Ministry? did it bother you that Harry, Hermione and Ron don't spare a moment's feeling for Mr. Lovegood's fate after he summons the Death Eaters? did it phase you that Harry does not mend his own wand before dealing with the Elder Wand nor make the last visit to Dumbledore's portrait in the headmaster's office nor explain why he chooses to dispose of each of the Deathly Hallows in the way he does?

Does it bother you that, in the film version at least, NO ONE except the small group of fighters within Hogwarts joins the battle against Voldemort and the Death Eaters, not the parents of the students, not the people of Hogsmeade, not the Centaurs, the House Elves nor even Grawp?

Does it not drive you absolutely crazy that, while the Hogwart's fighters die simple human deaths, both Bellatrix and Voldemort evaporate into the ether when they die?

That Rowling's single most basic point -- in the end, we are all human and we all are born, live and die just like everyone else, no matter who we are and how powerful we are during our brief stay on earth -- is completely lost in the film?

"Harry Potter and Me" offers insights

In a 2001 interview with the BBC, Jo Rowling tells the story of how, after the publication of The Chamber of Secrets, she received a stern letter from a parent who basically told her the violent and scary ending of the second book was unacceptable and that the parent expected better from Rowling in the upcoming third novel.

Rowling's reaction is wonderful. She becomes very angry, even though several years had passed between the incident and her recounting of it to the BBC.

"I'm not taking dictation here," she says after a moment. "Do I care about my readers? Profoundly and deeply. But do I ultimately think they should dictate a single word of what I write? No. I am the only one who should be in control of that."

This is a pretty important statement for me as a Potter fan. It tells me that Rowling committed herself, early on, to remaining true to her own plans for the Harry Potter books and to avoid being influenced, dictated to even, by outside forces, be they her readers, her editors or even the films made of her books.

Two other highlights from this BBC interview, filmed between the publication of the fourth and fifth books:

1. Jo Rowling makes it clear that the film version of her books were, at least to that point, entirely outside her control. No matter how carefully she kept control over the writing of the books to herself, she was clearly willing to turn over complete control over the film versions to others.

She says, "The closer the viewing [of the film version of The Philosopher's Stone, the first novel] came, the more frightened I became, to the point where, where I actually sat down to watch the film, I was terrified because I thought 'oh, please don't do anything that's not in the book; please don't take horrible liberties with the plot'."

She concludes by saying of the first film: "I liked it, which was a relief, as you can imagine."

This may just mean that I can absolve Jo Rowling of any blame for the ridiculous liberties the film makers took with the plots of the later books, the devastation they wrought on The Half-Blood Prince and The Deathly Hallows especially. I can't imagine Rowling emerging from any of the last three films thinking that they had stayed true to her original books.

2. By that point at least, Rowling had written the Epilogue for Book Seven. She actually holds up the file folder for the camera, calls it the Epilogue and says, "In the Epilogue, I basically say what happens to everyone after they leave the school, those who survive."

That doesn't prove conclusively that she had the final plot completely figured out but it does indicate quite clearly that she spent a lot of time early on planning out where the novels would go.

On paintings, portraits and plots

I've written before about the role played by paintings in the magical world of Harry Potter, particular the portraits of former Hogwarts headmasters that hang in Dumbledore's office (sorry, I can't bring myself to refer to it as Snape's office).

It is clearly established that people captured in paintings can communicate with the living people who  wander past them. This happens all the time. It is also clearly established that the characters in the paintings actually carry on linear lives, lives that are situated within the same chronological context as the living beings.

These painting people experience events at a particular moment in time, then move on to other events while carrying memories of the earlier event. The Fat Lady recounts several times, for example, how she was attacked in book two, and finally identifies her attacker as Sirius Black. In the final battle for Hogwarts, the painting people carry information from place to place in the castle.

And the portraits in the Headmaster's office, in particular, appear to carry the memories, the attitudes, the opinions of the living people they represent. They are an extension of the earlier headmasters and appear to add the experiences and memories they accumulate as painting people to the experiences and memories they held when they were living people.

Does that all make sense?

Okay. So why would Harry ever feel abandoned by Dumbledore in Book Seven? Why would his first goal not be to break into the Headmaster's Office and have a long talk with Dumbledore as a painting person, to obtain the answers to all the questions he has?

If the painting Dumbledore is an extension of the real, formerly living Dumbledore, why would Harry, Hermione and Ron not try to find a way to get to the portrait and find out how to destroy Horcruxes, where the remaining Horcruxes might be, what the deal is with the Hallows, etc.?

And why wouldn't Snape have found some way to help Harry and the gang gain access to Dumbledore's portrait without raising suspicion?

Again, I am concerned that, in creating these magical portraits in so much fascinating detail, J.K. Rowling has set a trap for herself that actually ends up undermining the effectiveness of these wonderful stories she's written. Wouldn't it have been possible to tell the stories without making these portraits so fully functional as to undermine the plots?

Deathly Hallows films make me cry, for all the wrong reasons

The film version of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows makes me want to cry.

No, not because I'm so upset about the death of Hedwig in the early going. Nor does the sweep of music that accompanies Dobby's last words bring tears to my eyes.

I'm not overwhelmed with emotion when I see the bodies of Fred, Remus and Nymphadora lying on makeshift cots in the Great Hall of Hogwarts in the intermission of the great battle.

And, no, I am absolutely NOT overcome with tears of relief when Voldemort's body finally breaks into little black leaves and floats off into the ether, signifying his final parting from this brave world.

No, I want to cry when I watch the movies of The Deathly Hallows because I HATE THEM SO MUCH. I want to cry because I am so angry at the scriptwriter and director and everyone else associated with the movies for taking our one real chance to translate J.K. Rowling's deep, moving psychological masterpiece of a seventh novel into film and WASTING IT with this ridiculous, corny, over-wrought, under-intellectual piece of revisionist S__T.

And I sincerely wish that J.K. Rowling would come out in public and make even the mildest statement that says she too recognizes how much of a disappointment these last two movies are.

I mean, under perhaps the greatest pressure of expectation any author has ever faced in literary history, Rowling wrote a lovely, fascinating, deep and philosophical novel, one that delivered more action than anyone could ever have hoped for supported by an amazing exploration of love, trust, friendship and camaraderie.

Despite its flaws, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is, in my humble opinion, a literary masterpiece produced when the author could have hammered out a simple action yarn and most of the world would have been satisfied.

This novel is a credit to Rowling, proof that she is a master writer first and a business person second. She gave the world more, much much more than any one would have required her to give in this final novel for the simple reason that she felt she owed herself, her characters, and us, something fabulous.

So why did she permit the film-makers to turn her final masterwork into this shallow, often silly piece of dreck that leaves out just about every morsel of poetry she lovingly wrote into the book?

Why did she permit them to eviscerate the wonderful philosophical, moral Hallows-vs-Horcruxes story-line, leaving in just enough to make it a mockery of the original?

Why did she let them walk away from the intense internal conflict faced by Harry as he discovered more and more about Dumbledore and his intensely secret ways?

Why did she allow them to turn the Battle of Hogwarts into a mano-a-mano war between Harry and Voldemort when it is clear, in the book, that it is Harry's love for his friends and colleagues, and their love and support for him, that eventually wins the day?

There's so much more (or less) in the movies that I want to complain about but I think I've made my point.

J.K. Rowling's novel, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is a beautifully paced, philosophically rich poetic piece of writing.

The two films that were made out of this book are simply sad reminders of what could have been, tragic wastes of the opportunity to make something as magic on film as the book is on paper.

Oh cursed spite: The Half-Blood Prince of Denmark

Harry bent over him; and Snape seized the front of his robes and pulled him close.

A terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from Snape's throat.

"I am dead; thou livest; Report me and my cause aright to the unsatisfied."

Something more than blood was leaking from Snape. Silvery blue, neither gas nor liquid, it gushed from his mouth and his ears and his eyes, and Harry knew what it was...

"Look ... at ... me .... " Snape whispered. "In this harsh world draw they breath in pain, To tell my story."

The green eyes found the black, but after a second something in the depths of the dark pair seemed to vanish, leaving them fixed, blank and empty. The hand holding Harry thudded to the floor, and Snape moved no more.

Sorry, a little bit of poetic license there. But every time I read J.K. Rowling's affecting description of Harry's last encounter with Snape and the Half-Blood Prince's death near the end of The Deathly Hallows, I am strongly reminded of the dying wishes of another Prince from another legendary English writer: Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, by William Shakespeare.

And so I've taken the liberty of combining Rowling's scene with that written by Shakespeare. They fit together quite well, don't you think? Certainly the words Shakespeare provided to Hamlet to express his request that Horatio explain his story, his plight to the disbelieving world capture exactly what Snape, in his gasping last breaths, is asking of Harry Potter.

I know that the tendency must be to compare Harry himself with Shakespeare's tragic prince, and there are ample reasons to do so, but I think this scene, the last moments of Snape's rather tragic life, align the Half-Blood Prince quite closely with the Shakespearean hero.

I'll probably write more on Harry Potter and Hamlet in a later blog entry but, for now, I'm quite pleased with the blended passage I've created above. What do you think?

Out of Order in the Film

I find The Order of the Phoenix such a difficult book to read. In fact, it's a little like torture. Which shouldn't be much of a surprise since the first three-quarters of the book involves the torture of our favourite wand-carrier, both directly by Dolores Umbridge and more subtly by the Ministry, the wizarding community and the other kids at Hogwarts.

Even though I know what's coming, I still cringe when I read this book.

That's not an insult to J.K. Rowling. In fact, it's a huge compliment. J.K. wanted to make this book an ordeal both for Harry and her reader and she succeeds remarkably.

That's why I get so angry when I watch the film version of it. I honestly don't know which movie I detest more, The Order or the Deathly Hallows Part 2, and that's saying something since I really really really hate Part 2.

The fifth novel is a claustrophobic, harrowing ordeal. It's a gut-wrenching experience of a kind that is rarely found in literature. Because we identify so closely with Harry after the first four books, we feel every tiny sting he receives in this fifth one. We hurt for him and suffer with him.

So why did the movie makers have to turn this ordeal into a slapstick comedy (and a poor one at that)? Instead of ominous and evil, Umbridge is presented as a silly nuisance in the movie. I'm not taking a shot at Imelda Staunton -- she does a beautiful job of acting the role she was given -- but the role itself is a mockery of Rowling's villainous original.

The only thing, in my opinion, that saves the movie is the very strong performances of Evanna Lynch (as Luna Lovegood) and Katie Leung (as Cho Chang). These two make strong impressions, with some great scenes, even if the film reduces the part played by each in the main plot.

So I leave the film version of The Order of the Phoenix on the shelf while I battle my way through the tremendously well written novel. Too bad. Another wasted filmic opportunity.

Oh, and by the way, I've finally joined Pottermore. And I'm happy to report that I was sorted into Gryffindor House, meaning I can keep my wonderful hand-knit scarf! I don't have as much time as I wish I did to enjoy this amazing, interactive site but I'll keep plugging away.

Pondering the value of the Deathly Hallows to Book 7

I've had several conversations recently about the final novel and the real value of the Deathly Hallows to the whole Harry Potter story.

One respected friend suggested to me that, while she enjoyed the introduction of the mythic Deathly Hallows to the stories, she felt that J.K. ended up rushing the final couple of Horcruxes to make room and time for the Hallows.

Another respected friend said she felt that the final novel would have been just as good without the whole Deathly Hallow hoopla, since, in her opinion, the Deathly Hallows seemed like a late addition and ultimately added nothing at all to the story.

Here are my thoughts.

I feel that the final novel was about Harry proving himself to be worthy of the Deathly Hallows (in a way that Albus Dumbledore was not) and, therefore, the right person to defeat Voldemort. The novel clearly shows Harry to be torn between pursuing the Hallows and finding the remaining Horcruxes, a tension that is only finally resolved at Shell Cottage when Harry chooses to speak to Griphook first, thus allowing Voldemort to reach the Elder Wand before him.

As a result, I think the Deathly Hallows were incredibly important to Rowling's plan for both plot and character. Harry had to prove himself by choosing to follow a path that would lead to the death of Voldemort rather than pursuing the Hallows which would protect him from death. It is important, furthermore, that the Dark Lord chases the Elder Wand with a panicked obsession but proves to know nothing about the other Hallows, showing his limitations in seeing no value in what he would consider to be mere children's stories.

That being said, I agree that the final novel does sacrifice some detail in the pursuit and destruction of the final horcruxes (the destruction of Hufflepuff's Cup is not even shown 'on-screen' in the novel; we are merely told about it later), a development which I find takes away from the effectiveness of the book.

Further, I think it would have been more effective and convincing, as my second friend suggests, if Rowling had managed to incorporate some references to the Deathly Hallows, or at least their symbol, into the earlier novels. For example, Viktor Krum could have been shown confronting a Durmstrang student for wearing the symbol in The Goblet of Fire, rather than simply telling Harry about such an incident in the final novel.

I also find it hard to forget that, when Harry first opens up the parcel containing his father's Invisibility Cloak, Ron exclaims that such cloaks are "really rare", not one of a kind. This suggests to me that J.K. did not, at that time, have the Deathly Hallows in mind. The Invisibility Cloak was merely a valuable rarity, not a legendary item.

Wouldn't it have been great if Ron had told Harry, at that very early point, that one of the children's stories his mother used to read to him discussed an Invisibility Cloak? Now that would have been amazing evidence of Rowling's careful planning.

Sometimes you just have to complain a little

Okay, complaint time. I've just watched Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1, again and, even though I like this movie a lot, there are some things that really bother me about it.

I've mentioned that ridiculous dance scene between Harry and Hermione before so I won't go into that debacle again.

Three things struck me this time, and the first two are related.

First, J.K. was very careful in the novel to explain how Snape finds out that Harry and Hermione are in the Forest of Dean in order to deliver the Sword of Gryffindor to them (remember, Hermione mentions the Forest while holding her bag open, thus allowing the portrait of Phineas Nigellus to hear her and report her whereabouts to Snape in the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts?). I watched the movie carefully and Hermione is nowhere near her bag when she tells Harry where they are. So how, in the film, does Snape know where to find them?

Second, and on a related note, J.K. makes it clear that Ron, having abandoned his friends sometime earlier, begins to hear Hermione's voice through the Deluminator only after Hermione finally says Ron's name to Harry for the first time. In the movie, from what I could see, Hermione doesn't say Ron's name before he shows up. Yes, Ron says he heard her say his name but we never hear her.

So those two bug me.

An even bigger issue for me, however, is the fact that the screenwriter completely eliminates Harry's internal struggle to decide between pursuing Hallows or Horcruxes. The whole bit at Shell Cottage is intended to show that Harry is able to overcome his own needs and to focus on the needs of the magical world, thus allowing Voldemort to obtain the Elder Wand while he continues to hunt Horcruxes.

This is a huge issue and one that Dumbledore specifically mentions as a sign of Harry's worthiness when they meet in King's Cross Station near the end of the book.

Don't get me wrong. I understand why the movie makers chose to end the seventh film with Voldemort stealing the Elder Wand out of Dumbledore's grave (it's a very dramatic scene and sets the suspense nicely for the final movie).

But it just bothers me that, in order to give us that thrill, they have to sacrifice Harry's key psychological struggle, the pivotal moment where he proves himself worthy, to do so.

The Weasley Homestead

I'm trying to figure out what screen-writer Steven Kloves and director David Yates have against the Weasley homestead, commonly known as "The Burrow".

First, in a completely invented scene in the film version of The Half-Blood Prince, they have Bellatrix and her pals burn the place down. If that's not bad enough, in the movie Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1, they have several characters (like Mad-Eye Moody) call the place "The Burrows", plural.

In an interesting contradiction, some characters call it by its singular name and others by its new plural name, both in the film and in the special features that come with the Blu-Ray version of the movie.

Strange. J.K. refers to it, consistently and without exception, as "The Burrow" across all six books in which it is mentioned (I don't find any mention of the Weasley home, at least not be name, in The Philosopher's Stone). Why change it in the film?

Oh, which reminds me, from what I understand, the first novel in the series is called Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone in just about every English-speaking country in the world except the United States: so why do the British producers refer to it constantly as Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (the American title) in the Blu-Ray extras?

By the way, I recently picked up the French version of the first novel and I think the direct translation of the French title is Harry Potter at the School for Magic. Neat.