"Percy wouldn't recognise a joke if it danced naked in front of him wearing Dobbie's tea-cosy." Ron Weasley, The Goblet of Fire.
"You're joking, Perce... You actually are joking, Perce... I don't think I've heard you joking since you were..." Fred Weasley, The Deathly Hallows.
One of the joys in listening to the Harry Potter audio books is that I am forced to work my way through the unabridged novels at a set rate of speed. Since I cannot rush through the slow parts, or skim sections I believe I remember, or get so caught up in the action that I speed-read through entire chapters, I am catching little details that I have missed in my many past readings of the books.
Like the line from Ron as he, Harry and Hermione leave the kitchens of Hogwarts after visiting Dobbie and Winky, the free house elves.
Talk about consistency. Rowling gives Ron this throw-away line in book four, making fun of his elder brother for his lack of a sense of humour, and then, three full books (and about 2,500 pages later), she circles back, picks up this thread and stitches it into a key moment in the climax of the entire series.
It's really quite awesome.
Random thoughts and revelations that occur to me as I read the novels of J.K. Rowling or watch the movies that have been made of them
Showing posts with label Fred Weasley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fred Weasley. Show all posts
Monday, April 27, 2015
Sunday, April 19, 2015
A subtle subplot about the perils of power
One of my favourite subplots in The Goblet of Fire is the one involving Ludo Bagman, a group of Goblins and finally Fred and George Weasley. It doesn't get much air time in the novel (it doesn't even appear in the film) but it is yet another example of how thoroughly well planned these books are and the depth of detail Rowling goes into to make the stories come alive and to make her characters real.
Early in the novel, we get a glimpse of the problems F&G face in trying to launch their business: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Sorry. Did I say "problems" plural? I mean "problem" singular since the only problem the twins seem to face in making their business a success comes in the form of their mother: Molly Weasley.
And, to be honest, I don't get what her complaint is. Sure, the boys didn't do as well on their O.W.L. exams as she hoped they would but does that really mean she has to block their efforts to start a business and make some money over the summer holiday?
That aside, the Bagman-Goblin-Weasley plot begins in earnest when the jolly ol' beater shows up at the Quidditch World Cup and tries to convince Mr. Weasley to venture "a flutter on the match". Disappointed that the elder Weasley is only willing to wager a single Galleon on a straight out Ireland-to-win bet, Bagman comes alive when F&G show up with a brilliant fake wand and a complicated bet: "that Ireland win -- but Viktor Krum gets the snitch".
Although Bagman says that there is "no chance" that their prediction will come true, he is so delighted by their wager that he promises "excellent odds" and adds five Galleons to their original 37-Galleon-plus bet.
An Aside
What kind of odds do you think Bagman would give F&G on their bet?
As we all know, it is highly unlikely that a Seeker would capture the snitch when his/her team is trailing by more than 150 points. There is just no sense in it. The Seeker would probably bide his/her time, try to keep the opposing seeker from capturing the snitch while hoping that his/her team will score some goals and fight back into the game.
It would take a rare set of circumstances that would convince a Seeker to catch the snitch, knowing that, in doing so, he/she was losing the game for the team.
Circumstances such as actually took place that year in the Quidditch World Cup: Ireland was so much superior to Bulgaria on the goal-scoring side of the game that Bulgaria's only real hope of winning came if its superb Seeker, Viktor Krum, could capture the snitch before Ireland built up too much of a lead. Once Ireland was in front by more than 150 points and there was no hope of Bulgaria fighting back, Krum chose to catch the snitch and thus limit the number of points by which his team lost the match.
So... what odds did Bagman give F&G on their wager? 5 to 1 seems too low. I would say that Bulgaria was probably a 5 to 1 underdog just to win the match. 10 to 1 doesn't seem enough either: remember, F&G bet on an extremely unlikely scenario, one that Bagman himself admits has little chance of coming true.
20 to 1? That's more like it but, to be honest, I would say the bet is more of a 50 to 1 longshot. So F&G stood to win at least 840 Galleons (at 20 to 1) and perhaps 2100 Galleons (at 50 to 1).
Wow. That's a big bag of gold!
No wonder F&G don't want to let it go. And no wonder Bagman doesn't seem to be in a position to pay.
Jo Rowling does a wonderful job of stitching this minor subplot into the fabric of the book. She shows F&G approaching Bagman, hands out for their payment, as soon as the World Cup has ended.
Is it possible, however, that Bagman, while doing the announcing of the game, was able to collect up between 800 and 2100 Galleons of Leprechaun gold? How could F&G carry all that money as they walked back to their tents?
Rowling later has the kids stumble across "a group of Goblins, who were cackling over a sack of gold they had undoubtedly won betting on the match" with Bagman, no doubt. The Goblins are delighted but, like F&G, will soon find out that Bagman has paid them off in Leprechaun gold, which is worthless. That puts Bagman in a very bad place, because you don't want to get on the bad side of a bunch of Goblins.
Rowling then has Harry, Hermione and Ron encounter Bagman again, this time in the wood. They can see "that a great change had come over Bagman. He no longer looked bouffant and rosy-faced; there was no more spring in his step. He looked very white and strained."
Bagman is clearly under stress, stress we find out later caused by the fact that he has over-extended himself and will soon be found out to be a fraud and a criminal. Worse, he will have the Goblins after him.
Rowling inserts of all these little scenes, these little hints, subtly and without fanfare into the larger narrative. They literally get lost in the drama caused by the appearance of the Dark Mark.
Again, it's a sign of her strength as a writer and her careful planning of the novel. Very early on, she plants the seeds that are required to set the stage for F&G's ongoing efforts, and ultimate failure, to get Ludo Bagman to pay them what he owes them on the bet. Not only do they not gain the winnings they are owed, they also lose their life savings in the process.
And, with those life savings, they lose any hope of opening their joke shop and finding their destiny.
Throughout the rest of the novel, we will see the twins growing increasingly desperate in their pursuit of Bagman and increasingly frustrated by their failures. It's beautifully written and, when thought through carefully by the reader, a remarkably troubling subplot, the story of a powerful public figure taking advantage of two impoverished young people and of the powerlessness of those young people to obtain justice.
There is no way out for Fred and George. I don't think they ever collect from Bagman and it is only because Harry gives them his Tri-Wizard Tournament winnings that they are able to continue to pursue their dreams.
Early in the novel, we get a glimpse of the problems F&G face in trying to launch their business: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Sorry. Did I say "problems" plural? I mean "problem" singular since the only problem the twins seem to face in making their business a success comes in the form of their mother: Molly Weasley.
And, to be honest, I don't get what her complaint is. Sure, the boys didn't do as well on their O.W.L. exams as she hoped they would but does that really mean she has to block their efforts to start a business and make some money over the summer holiday?
That aside, the Bagman-Goblin-Weasley plot begins in earnest when the jolly ol' beater shows up at the Quidditch World Cup and tries to convince Mr. Weasley to venture "a flutter on the match". Disappointed that the elder Weasley is only willing to wager a single Galleon on a straight out Ireland-to-win bet, Bagman comes alive when F&G show up with a brilliant fake wand and a complicated bet: "that Ireland win -- but Viktor Krum gets the snitch".
Although Bagman says that there is "no chance" that their prediction will come true, he is so delighted by their wager that he promises "excellent odds" and adds five Galleons to their original 37-Galleon-plus bet.
An Aside
What kind of odds do you think Bagman would give F&G on their bet?
As we all know, it is highly unlikely that a Seeker would capture the snitch when his/her team is trailing by more than 150 points. There is just no sense in it. The Seeker would probably bide his/her time, try to keep the opposing seeker from capturing the snitch while hoping that his/her team will score some goals and fight back into the game.
It would take a rare set of circumstances that would convince a Seeker to catch the snitch, knowing that, in doing so, he/she was losing the game for the team.
Circumstances such as actually took place that year in the Quidditch World Cup: Ireland was so much superior to Bulgaria on the goal-scoring side of the game that Bulgaria's only real hope of winning came if its superb Seeker, Viktor Krum, could capture the snitch before Ireland built up too much of a lead. Once Ireland was in front by more than 150 points and there was no hope of Bulgaria fighting back, Krum chose to catch the snitch and thus limit the number of points by which his team lost the match.
So... what odds did Bagman give F&G on their wager? 5 to 1 seems too low. I would say that Bulgaria was probably a 5 to 1 underdog just to win the match. 10 to 1 doesn't seem enough either: remember, F&G bet on an extremely unlikely scenario, one that Bagman himself admits has little chance of coming true.
20 to 1? That's more like it but, to be honest, I would say the bet is more of a 50 to 1 longshot. So F&G stood to win at least 840 Galleons (at 20 to 1) and perhaps 2100 Galleons (at 50 to 1).
Wow. That's a big bag of gold!
No wonder F&G don't want to let it go. And no wonder Bagman doesn't seem to be in a position to pay.
Jo Rowling does a wonderful job of stitching this minor subplot into the fabric of the book. She shows F&G approaching Bagman, hands out for their payment, as soon as the World Cup has ended.
Is it possible, however, that Bagman, while doing the announcing of the game, was able to collect up between 800 and 2100 Galleons of Leprechaun gold? How could F&G carry all that money as they walked back to their tents?
Rowling later has the kids stumble across "a group of Goblins, who were cackling over a sack of gold they had undoubtedly won betting on the match" with Bagman, no doubt. The Goblins are delighted but, like F&G, will soon find out that Bagman has paid them off in Leprechaun gold, which is worthless. That puts Bagman in a very bad place, because you don't want to get on the bad side of a bunch of Goblins.
Rowling then has Harry, Hermione and Ron encounter Bagman again, this time in the wood. They can see "that a great change had come over Bagman. He no longer looked bouffant and rosy-faced; there was no more spring in his step. He looked very white and strained."
Bagman is clearly under stress, stress we find out later caused by the fact that he has over-extended himself and will soon be found out to be a fraud and a criminal. Worse, he will have the Goblins after him.
Rowling inserts of all these little scenes, these little hints, subtly and without fanfare into the larger narrative. They literally get lost in the drama caused by the appearance of the Dark Mark.
Again, it's a sign of her strength as a writer and her careful planning of the novel. Very early on, she plants the seeds that are required to set the stage for F&G's ongoing efforts, and ultimate failure, to get Ludo Bagman to pay them what he owes them on the bet. Not only do they not gain the winnings they are owed, they also lose their life savings in the process.
And, with those life savings, they lose any hope of opening their joke shop and finding their destiny.
Throughout the rest of the novel, we will see the twins growing increasingly desperate in their pursuit of Bagman and increasingly frustrated by their failures. It's beautifully written and, when thought through carefully by the reader, a remarkably troubling subplot, the story of a powerful public figure taking advantage of two impoverished young people and of the powerlessness of those young people to obtain justice.
There is no way out for Fred and George. I don't think they ever collect from Bagman and it is only because Harry gives them his Tri-Wizard Tournament winnings that they are able to continue to pursue their dreams.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Fredngeorge: So far, they're a single character
I'm starting my review of the seven novels to see how J.K. has depicted Fred and George Weasley: as two different individuals or as a single character with two names?
With the review of The Philosopher's Stone almost completed, here are my initial thoughts on the subject: as she wrote the first novel, Rowling didn't plan to portray these guys as two distinct characters.
Their first introduction comes in King's Cross Station as Harry searches desperately for a way to reach Platform 9 3/4. He spots this family of redheads with an owl (!!!) on their trunk and thinks, "Aha! They must be heading to Hogwarts train too. I'll follow them."
Two things jump out at me from this scene.
First, Molly Weasley actually asks her kids what Platform the train is on. Isn't that bizarre? Throughout the rest of the novels, the fact that the Hogwarts Express leaves Platform 9 3/4 at 11 a.m. on September 1 is one of those great accepted constants in the world. Everybody knows it. Everybody banks on it. Furthermore, Molly Weasley has probably been delivering kids to the train on Platform 9 3/4 every year for the past decade or more. And yet she has to ask her kids in this first book which platform. Wow.
Second, the first thing we learn about Fred and George is that everyone, even their own mother, can't tell them apart. Throughout this scene and the following scenes on the train, we learn their names but we get no indication from the author of any difference between them.
As the book progresses, J.K. even goes so far as to skip identifying which of the twins delivers which line of dialogue. She presents conversations involving Fred and George as if they are a single person: when Harry, for example, talks to the twins, the twins' side of the conversation is never attributed to either George or Fred.
Weird. Neat. But does it change?
My expectation is that I will, indeed, find differences between Fred and George written into the later books. But I may find them indistinguishable until we get to The Goblet of Fire at least.
With the review of The Philosopher's Stone almost completed, here are my initial thoughts on the subject: as she wrote the first novel, Rowling didn't plan to portray these guys as two distinct characters.
Their first introduction comes in King's Cross Station as Harry searches desperately for a way to reach Platform 9 3/4. He spots this family of redheads with an owl (!!!) on their trunk and thinks, "Aha! They must be heading to Hogwarts train too. I'll follow them."
Two things jump out at me from this scene.
First, Molly Weasley actually asks her kids what Platform the train is on. Isn't that bizarre? Throughout the rest of the novels, the fact that the Hogwarts Express leaves Platform 9 3/4 at 11 a.m. on September 1 is one of those great accepted constants in the world. Everybody knows it. Everybody banks on it. Furthermore, Molly Weasley has probably been delivering kids to the train on Platform 9 3/4 every year for the past decade or more. And yet she has to ask her kids in this first book which platform. Wow.
Second, the first thing we learn about Fred and George is that everyone, even their own mother, can't tell them apart. Throughout this scene and the following scenes on the train, we learn their names but we get no indication from the author of any difference between them.
As the book progresses, J.K. even goes so far as to skip identifying which of the twins delivers which line of dialogue. She presents conversations involving Fred and George as if they are a single person: when Harry, for example, talks to the twins, the twins' side of the conversation is never attributed to either George or Fred.
Weird. Neat. But does it change?
My expectation is that I will, indeed, find differences between Fred and George written into the later books. But I may find them indistinguishable until we get to The Goblet of Fire at least.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Two vexing questions: the Weasley twins and Sirius' mirror
I've run myself aground on two questions and they're paralysing me. They're stopping me from my usual free-flow of thinking around the Harry Potter books and films and, therefore, blocking me from posting to this blog.
The two questions are:
1. Did J.K. write the characters of Fred and George Weasley in such a way that she's made them clearly different individuals or was she content simply to present them as one person in two bodies?
2. Why didn't Harry use Sirius' mirror to contact him at the end of The Order of the Phoenix, rather than allowing himself to be lured into the trap at the Ministry?
I've talked a little bit about the first question in earlier posts and it still vexes me. I will have to find the time to review all seven books, chart the descriptions and dialogue for each of the twins and see what I come up with. I can't think of any other way to answer the question. The problem is finding the time.
With regard to the second question, my colleague who is currently reading the books for the first time raised it recently as we were talking about how different the fifth book is from the fifth film. She said it really bothered her that Harry didn't just use the mirror to check on Sirius -- after all, Sirius must have had it with him when he was caring for Buckbeak and not available to Harry through the fireplace.
I have to admit: that issue never bothered me because, in the numerous times I read the novel, I never really registered the mirror and its importance when Sirius first gave it to Harry. It wasn't in my mind as I read the remainder of the book.
But my colleague saw all the films several times before reading the novels so the mirror, which is so vividly depicted in the film versions of the seventh novel, remains strongly in her memory as she reads.
I write all this here for two reasons: in hopes that, by writing about these two questions that have been othering me, I'll clear them from my mind and allow myself to think of other Potter-related things and in order to spur myself into action to pursue both questions on the coming long weekend.
What are your thoughts? Do you think of Fred and George as seperate entities or just two names for a single character? Does it bother you that Harry failed to use the mirror to check on Sirius?
The two questions are:
1. Did J.K. write the characters of Fred and George Weasley in such a way that she's made them clearly different individuals or was she content simply to present them as one person in two bodies?
2. Why didn't Harry use Sirius' mirror to contact him at the end of The Order of the Phoenix, rather than allowing himself to be lured into the trap at the Ministry?
I've talked a little bit about the first question in earlier posts and it still vexes me. I will have to find the time to review all seven books, chart the descriptions and dialogue for each of the twins and see what I come up with. I can't think of any other way to answer the question. The problem is finding the time.
With regard to the second question, my colleague who is currently reading the books for the first time raised it recently as we were talking about how different the fifth book is from the fifth film. She said it really bothered her that Harry didn't just use the mirror to check on Sirius -- after all, Sirius must have had it with him when he was caring for Buckbeak and not available to Harry through the fireplace.
I have to admit: that issue never bothered me because, in the numerous times I read the novel, I never really registered the mirror and its importance when Sirius first gave it to Harry. It wasn't in my mind as I read the remainder of the book.
But my colleague saw all the films several times before reading the novels so the mirror, which is so vividly depicted in the film versions of the seventh novel, remains strongly in her memory as she reads.
I write all this here for two reasons: in hopes that, by writing about these two questions that have been othering me, I'll clear them from my mind and allow myself to think of other Potter-related things and in order to spur myself into action to pursue both questions on the coming long weekend.
What are your thoughts? Do you think of Fred and George as seperate entities or just two names for a single character? Does it bother you that Harry failed to use the mirror to check on Sirius?
Monday, October 3, 2011
Are Fred and George really different people?
Which do you prefer: Fred or George? One lost an ear, the other lost his life. Other than that, the Weasley twins appear identical, not just in appearance but in every other way.
I'm sure someone somewhere has conducted a study to see if J.K. made any effort to write them even slightly differently throughout the course of the seven novels. You know: does Fred have a habitual turn of phrase? does George focus more on feelings than Fred does? is one more prone to act first and ask questions later? That kind of thing.
In the novel Lord of the Flies, the twin brothers Sam and Eric are so indistinguishable that the author, William Golding, actually reduces them to a single entity which he calls "Samneric". In the play Hamlet, Rosenkranz and Guildenstern are inseparable and indistinguishable too. They're not twins but they, together, fill a single role in the play.
Are Fred and George portrayed in such a similar way that they are little more than a single character in two bodies?
Even Mrs. Weasley has trouble telling them apart. Can we?
Certainly in my incomplete Rowling-world novel, The Way Forward, which follows the lives of George Weasley, Aberforth Dumbledore and Miverva McGonagall after Voldemort's downfall, I am forced to imagine George as an independent person, dealing with the loss of his twin brother, but did Rowling make any attempt to make them different in her books?
I may just have to do some looking to figure this out.
You can find that incomplete novel, by the way, here: http://wordsby.walma.org/page59/page59.html.
I'm sure someone somewhere has conducted a study to see if J.K. made any effort to write them even slightly differently throughout the course of the seven novels. You know: does Fred have a habitual turn of phrase? does George focus more on feelings than Fred does? is one more prone to act first and ask questions later? That kind of thing.
In the novel Lord of the Flies, the twin brothers Sam and Eric are so indistinguishable that the author, William Golding, actually reduces them to a single entity which he calls "Samneric". In the play Hamlet, Rosenkranz and Guildenstern are inseparable and indistinguishable too. They're not twins but they, together, fill a single role in the play.
Are Fred and George portrayed in such a similar way that they are little more than a single character in two bodies?
Even Mrs. Weasley has trouble telling them apart. Can we?
Certainly in my incomplete Rowling-world novel, The Way Forward, which follows the lives of George Weasley, Aberforth Dumbledore and Miverva McGonagall after Voldemort's downfall, I am forced to imagine George as an independent person, dealing with the loss of his twin brother, but did Rowling make any attempt to make them different in her books?
I may just have to do some looking to figure this out.
You can find that incomplete novel, by the way, here: http://wordsby.walma.org/page59/page59.html.
Labels:
Aberforth Dumbledore,
Fred Weasley,
George Weasley,
Guildenstern,
Hamlet,
J.K. Rowling,
Lord of the Flies,
Minerva McGonagall,
Molly Weasley,
Rosenkranz,
Samneric,
The Way Forward,
Voldemort
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Is Molly Weasley a fearsome or a sabre-tooth tiger?
Five days. Cinque jours. Wow. Time is both flying and crawling along.
I'm now reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, in French. It's a lot of fun. In this book, we make our first visit to the Burrow, the home of the Weasleys, which in French translates to "Le Terrier". My research suggests that this is a fairly straightforward translation of the the phrase "The Burrow" but it sounds weird to me since, in English, a terrier is a dog.
At the start of this book, when Fred, George and Ron return to the Burrow in the flying care after rescuing Harry from the Dursley's, Mrs. Weasley storms out to meet them, furious. J.K. describes her for the first time in a manner that suggests the powerhouse she turns out to be in Book Seven: in French, the description is "une tigresse redoutable", which means something like "a fearsome tiger". In the English, J.K. describes Molly as "a sabre-tooth tiger".
I wonder why the change, the re-interpretation in translation. Perhaps French people wouldn't think of a sabre-tooth tiger as being particularly frightening.
I'm now reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, in French. It's a lot of fun. In this book, we make our first visit to the Burrow, the home of the Weasleys, which in French translates to "Le Terrier". My research suggests that this is a fairly straightforward translation of the the phrase "The Burrow" but it sounds weird to me since, in English, a terrier is a dog.
At the start of this book, when Fred, George and Ron return to the Burrow in the flying care after rescuing Harry from the Dursley's, Mrs. Weasley storms out to meet them, furious. J.K. describes her for the first time in a manner that suggests the powerhouse she turns out to be in Book Seven: in French, the description is "une tigresse redoutable", which means something like "a fearsome tiger". In the English, J.K. describes Molly as "a sabre-tooth tiger".
I wonder why the change, the re-interpretation in translation. Perhaps French people wouldn't think of a sabre-tooth tiger as being particularly frightening.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)