Yates finally explains why he didn't trust Rowling's ending

It was quite stunning, really. 

 I have wondered for several years what could possibly have possessed screenwriter Steve Kloves and director David Yates when they decided to change J.K. Rowling's practically perfect ending to The Deathly Hallows.

David Yates: Praying for inspiration

Now, after watching the recent Harry Potter 20^th Anniversary: Return to Hogwarts special, I finally have my answer.

And it only makes me more incensed.

 

As you will recall, Rowling ends the Battle of Hogwarts in epic seventh novel with Harry and Voldemort, circling, circling, while the crowds of Hogwarts defenders and Deatheaters look on, mesmerised.

 

Molly Weasley had finally defeated Bellatrix Lestrange, the wizarding world has risen up to vanquish the Dark Forces and all that remains is for Harry to fulfill his destiny and bring down the Dark Lord once and for all.

It's a wonderfully tense and emotional scene. Harry distracts Voldemort from casting the final curse by telling him of Dumbledore's plans, both those that worked perfectly and those that didn't quite work out the way the Headmaster had intended. And then, as the sun breaks over the horizon, the two wizards cast their best spells and Voldemort, his own killing curse rebounding on him and the Elder Wand declaring its allegiance to Harry, its rightful owner, falls down dead.

Human. Finally and fully human.

All of the themes Rowling had been weaving so carefully through the books come to a point in this final scene, this final moment.

Perfect.

But not good enough for Kloves and Yates. Or, as it turns out, for Yates alone.

In the recent retrospective special, the director takes full credit (or blame, to be honest) for the ultimate filmic insult to Rowling's amazing work.

David Yates says this of the final battle between Harry and Voldemort:

Yates, fumbling the ending

When looking at the book, the final confrontation between Voldemort and Harry takes place in the Great Hall with a huge audience watching. And I really wanted something earthier and more intense and more visceral than that. Because these two adversaries were almost joined spiritually if you like in this strange Horcruxy way. I thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful if Dan just grabbed Raif and pulled him off this tower?

 

As they apparate, they are merged together. That deep connection that we had sort of threaded through the stories and the films you’d visualise in that moment before they tumbled into the courtyard.

 

As well as the physical challenge of making the films, there was that small pressure of thinking: you’re the one who is going to finish this. It has to go out on a high. It has to be meaningful. It has to resonate. It has to deliver.

The problem, Mr. Yates, is that the final battle as written by J.K. Rowling was meaningful, it resonates, it delivers. You should have trusted her. You should have recognised the poet and simply followed the plan she so masterfully set out for you.

In making the ridiculous changes you made, you took the soul out of the ending. You made that final confrontation mano a mano, a macho combat between two individuals rather than the final, almost anti-climactic moment where the common good, the collective society won out and the great monster that had enthralled and terrorised the world for so long was revealed as nothing more than a human being, around much had been built.

Harry didn't defeat Voldemort by himself -- he, Hermione and Ron hunted down the Horcruxes and one by one destroyed them, bringing Voldemort step by step closer to his end; Neville played a role, killing the snake, as did Hagrid, and McGonagall, and Kingsley, the House Elves, the Centaurs, the Weasleys, the families of the Hogwartians, the people of Hogsmeade and so many others.

Mr. Yates, you failed to understand what Rowling had built, so poetically, so artfully, over the course of the seven novels and, in making the final battle between Voldemort and Harry an epic battle, filled with flashes and explosions, fought in front of no one, you proved yourself an exceptional technician but no artist.

 

And you did a disservice to the stories were you entrusted to bring to the screen.

Why didn't the Trace give young Tom away?

I still haven't been able to figure out the "Trace" and, to be honest, I'm not sure J.K. has either.

If I recall correctly, the Trace was first mentioned, perhaps not by name, in The Chamber of Secrets when Harry receives a warning from the Ministry after Dobby's infamous Hover Charm that dropped a big frothy dessert on Aunt Marge. As it developed, the Trace is explained as some kind of charm that attaches (automatically?) to underage witches and wizards to permit the Ministry to "trace" when they perform feats of magic outside school and only lifts once the particular person comes of age.

I wonder, by the way, if the Trace is what permits Hogwarts to locate Muggle-borns with magical powers and then invite them to enroll when they become of school age. But that's an aside...

In The Half-Blood Prince, Dumbledore explains to Harry that the Ministry "can detect Magic, but not the perpetrator" -- that the Trace gives Ministry officials notice only that an act of magic has been performed in the vicinity of an underage witch or wizard. If there are adult witches or wizards nearby, the Ministry simply assumes the magical act was performed by an adult and takes no action. Further, Dumbledore tells Harry that the Ministry cannot tell the difference between House Elf magic and human magic, so Harry took the blame for Dobby's Hover Charm.

A lot is made of the Trace in The Deathly Hallows since Harry, who doesn't turn seventeen until his birthday during the summer before seventh year, cannot start his search for the Horcruxes until the Trace is lifted. After his seventeenth birthday, when Harry, Hermione and Ron encounter Death Eaters in the coffee shop immediately after fleeing the Weasley wedding, Hermione wonders whether perhaps the Voldemort-controlled Ministry has found a way to keep the Trace on Harry even though he is now of age.

Ron objects: it's not possible, he says. The lifting of the Trace at 17 is wizarding law.

So that's the stage against which I ask the following question: in the HBP, why did the Ministry not know immediately, via the Trace, that an underage Tom Riddle had performed the three Avada Kedavra spells that killed his father and grand parents?

Dumbledore explains to Harry that the Ministry did not trace young Tom's magical acts in Morfin's presence because they simply assumed the adult wizard (Morfin) had performed them. But he also tells Harry that "we can be fairly sure what happened. Voldemort Stupefied his uncle, took his wand, and proceed across the valley to 'the big house over the way'. There he murdered the Muggle man who had abandoned his mother, and, for good measure, his Muggle grandparents."

Yet, the Ministry failed to recognise that it was young Tom who killed his Muggle parents, an act that was apparently witnessed by no other person, Muggle or Magical. Should not the Trace have made it very clear to the Ministry that the three Avada Kedavra spells were cast by the only magical person in the vicinity, the under-age Tom Riddle?

Is it possible that Tom forced Morfin to accompany him when he visited the Riddle house to commit the murders, thus leading the Ministry to be more ready to blame Morfin? That would have made the act much more difficult to accomplish, especially without attracting notice from passersby, but it would at least address the potential Trace-related issue.

Another side question arises: why would the Ministry not place a Taboo on the three Unforgiveable Curses so that they have instant notice that the curse has been used and can arrest the culprit immediately? Sure, the Taboo likely only works on words that are spoken out loud (rather than simply thought) but I don't recall a single instance when Avada Kedavra is used, for example, that it is used nonverbally.

The little details should have given Snape away

What was I thinking? How did I miss this? How did I fail to ask questions?

In the long passage in The Half-Blood Prince in which Dumbledore and Harry discuss the implications of the full Slughorn memory and the fact that Voldemort appears to be planning to make no fewer than six Horcruxes, the Head Master makes several comments that should, in my numerous earlier readings of the book, have made me stop and ask questions.

"When Voldemort discovered that the diary had been mutilated and robbed of all its powers, I am told that his anger was terrible to behold," Voldemort tells Harry at one point in the conversation.

Wait a minute, I should have said. Hold on there, Dumbledore. Who told you how Voldemort reacted to the news that Lucius Malfoy had permitted the diary to be destroyed? Who was there to "behold" Voldemort's terrible anger and then tell you about it?

But I didn't. I missed it. I failed to see the hint that J.K. Rowling laid down so subtly that, no matter what I saw and heard in Chapter Two, Severus Snape was actually still working for Dumbledore.

Who else could have given Dumbledore this tidbit of information from the inner sanctum of the Dark Lord? Who else could possibly have been there to behold the incident and then report it back to the Hogwarts Head Master?

Later in the same scene, Dumbledore drops another clue: "I understand that Voldemort had told him [Lucius Malfoy] the diary would cause the Chamber of Secrets to reopen, because it was cleverly enchanted."

'You understand from whom?' I should have asked. 'That's pretty specific knowledge of the details of what the Dark Lord said to one of this closest companions about one of his most important possessions. You couldn't become acquainted with that level of detail from a simple rumour, from third-hand reports.'

Remarkable. It's one of the most amazing things about Rowling as a writer of suspense: she has this uncanny knack of dropping little hints, tiny clues, minuscule details innocuously into seemingly much more important passages so that the reader does not pick up on them on first, second or third read, yet might some day (like today) realize just how important those hints, clues and details are to the story.

She makes her stories so exciting that it is impossible to slow yourself down and pay attention to the minute details yet she rewards such attention to detail with clear indications of what is really going on.

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.

Rowling's latest HP offering

As anyone who might be interested enough in Harry Potter to bother reading this blog likely already knows, J.K. Rowling has just posted an amazing, if brief, prologue to the epilogue of The Deathly Hallows on her Pottermore site.

Written in the form of a gossip column piece by Rita Skeeter, this three-page article describes, in typically acid terms, the buzz created at the 2014 Quidditch World Cup by members of Dumbledore's Army, including Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna.

From what I can calculate, this new piece is set before the Epilogue to The Deathly Hallows. Here's how I figure it:

1. Harry turned 17 at the start of the final book;
2. The seventh book covers the next year and ends just as the Hogwarts school year would have ended;
3. That makes Harry just about to turn 18 when he kills Voldemort;
4. The book's Epilogue is titled "19 Years Later" and takes place on September 1 of that year;
5. This means that Harry would be 37 at the time of that scene at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters that brings the seven-book series to a close; and
6. Rita Skeeter says that Harry, at the time of this most recently published article, is "[a]bout to turn 34."

It's a nifty little piece and, as some commentators have already said online, in many ways more satisfying than the original Epilogue from the epic final book.

With all of that being said, however, what new information do we actually learn from this latest tidbit. To be honest, quite a bit (SPOILER ALERT):

• Harry is still called the Chosen One at age 34;
• The mere presence of the former members of Dumbledore's Army is sufficient to stir up near riots at the QWC, with Harry as the focus of most of the attention;
• Harry has moved on to become an Auror, as was his dream while at Hogwarts;
• Ginny is a budding sports reporter;
• Ron worked briefly for the Ministry, then joined George at Weasleys;
• George is "wealthy";
• Viktor Krum is still playing international level quidditch;
• The search for the Voldemort's Horcruxes is now public knowledge;
• Hermione is the Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement;
• Neville, a popular prof at Hogwarts, is married to someone named Hannah who is now a Healer;
• Luna Lovegood has twin sons with her husband Rolf Scamander;
• George is not married;
• Percy is the Head of the Department of Magical Transportation;
• Victoire and Teddy Lupin are already together; and
• Rita herself has written a new book about Dumbledore's Army itself.

There are probably more nuggets in there but that's a pretty good start.

Some thoughts, to go with the point that this piece is set three years before the Epilogue of the final book.

First, I think Rowling bowed to pressure from Hermione fans in making it clear that our favourite witch continued her meteoric public career, on top of being a wife and mother.

Second, Skeeter makes a lot of hay over a nasty new cut on Harry's face, a cut which must have healed fully before the Epilogue took place, or else Rowling would have mentioned it.

Third, if Harry and Co attract enough attention at 34 to cause near riots at the QWC, why does their appearance on the Platform three years later create no stir at all?

More thoughts from me on this later. What are your thoughts

Dumbledore and the Diadem... Something got lost

Help me understand something.

In all of the time Dumbledore spends teaching Harry about Voldemort's past and the existence of the Horcruxes, why doesn't Dumbledore ever mention the lost Diadem of Ravenclaw?

Dumbledore takes great care to ensure that Harry learns two things that will help in his search for the Horcruxes: 1) that Voldemort will use important items to create his Horcruxes and 2) that Voldemort has a special affinity for relics related to the four founders of Hogwarts.

The Headmaster identifies three of relics related to the school's founders: Slytherin's locket; Hufflepuff's Cup; and Gryffindor's sword. Only the sword is still safe from Voldemort's clutches.

If there are six Horcruxes, Dumbledore and Harry agree, then they can deduce that they know the identity of five of them: the Diary (destroyed), the Gaunt ring (destroyed), Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's Cup; and Nagini. The identity of the sixth remains a mystery but they believe it must be associated with Rowena Ravenclaw, the school's fourth founder.

So why, at that point, does Dumbledore not say, "And I believe it likely to be Ravenclaw's lost diadem" or at least "I would suspect that it might be Ravenclaw's lost diadem if it weren't for the fact that it is, indeed, lost".

The way the scenes between Harry and the Headmaster in The Half-Blood Prince play out, it would appear that Dumbledore is unaware of the existence of, or the legend of, the lost diadem.

And that makes no sense to me. Dumbledore knew more about Hogwarts and its history than anyone. It is not possible that he would be unaware of the diadem and its story. And he was determined to give Harry as much information about the possible location of the Horcruxes as he could. It is also not possible that he forgot to mention the diadem to Harry at that point or chose not to so so.

The only possibility I can think of is that Rowling had not yet conceived of the lost diadem when she wrote the sixth book. That it was simply fortuitous that she had Harry use a tarnished tiara to mark the location in which he hid his potions book in The Half-Blood Prince and that then, when she came up with the idea of having a lost item of Ravenclaw's be the final Horcrux in order to add more suspense to the ending of The Deathly Hallows, she realised that she had already inserted just the thing in her story.

If that is actually what happened, I think it's awesome! I am in awe of Rowling's creativity and care in crafting these incredibly rich, detailed stories. I will be even more in awe if it is confirmed for me that, at the height of her writing, she was able to make such an amazing, inspired connection with an innocuous detail from her earlier novel to such dramatic effect.

But, if not, then Dumbledore should have mentioned the diadem to Harry.

What did Lucius know about Tom Riddle's diary?

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

Why?

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

What did I find?

Remarkable consistency.

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

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

In the sixth book, Dumbledore explains:

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

Consistent and helpful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Revisiting the disappointment of the last movie

Every time I watch the last movie in the Harry Potter series, I feel like I need to take a long, hot shower to clean the ickiness off me.

I don't even know why I try to watch it anymore.

I made the mistake of giving it another shot yesterday, when an extremely hot, humid Sunday afternoon drove me into the coolness of our basement rec room. I watched Part 1 first (not bad, great in some places, a little yucky in others) and then, encouraged, slid Part 2 into the Blu-Ray disc player.

My my, what a mistake.

And what upsets me the most is that, because they made this monstrosity, there is no way anyone is going to come along anytime soon to remake Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows as a film.And, even if they do, the stars of these movies (Radcliffe, Watson, Grint et al) will be be too old to play their roles and, to be honest, those three have become the hero trio for most of us around the world.

It's such a huge loss, in my opinion, because I think that Rowling's seventh novel would make a great movie (or series of movies) if done properly.

What do I hate most about the eighth movie as it currently exists? Good question:

1. I hate the fact that the screenwriter and director decided they were entitled to rewrite the story completely, keeping only brief signposts and glimpses of J.K.'s fantastic book;
2. I hate the fact that they removed Harry's internal debate between pursuing the Hallows and destroying the Horcruxes that plays such a key motivational role in the book;
3. I hate that they changed the circumstances and motivations for the first kiss between Ron and Hermione;
4. I hate that they felt compelled to change the balance of the final battle so that it became Harry and a small band of Hogwarts people against Voldemort's massive army rather than a pitched battle, the tide of which turned when the people of Hogsmeade and the rest of the magical community, the Centaurs and the House Elves all united to help the Hogwarts people defeat the Death Eaters;
5. I hate the fact that they made the final two very public duels (Molly Weasley versus Bellatrix Lestrange and Harry versus Voldemort) take place in relative obscurity;
6. I hate the fact that they have Voldemort mock Neville rather than attempt to recruit him into his army;
7. I hate that Hagrid's half-brother Grawp has no role in the final scenes;
8. I hate that the film version has significant internal inconsistencies: how does Luna end up back at Hogwarts   as a student after the hero trio helps her escape from Malfoy Manor, why are the Hogwarts students who are hidden in the Room of Requirement when Harry, Hermione and Ron arrive safe to join the rest of the students at Snape's school meeting?;
9. I hate the fact that it wasn't good enough for the filmmakers to have Tom Riddle simply fall down dead at the end;
10. I hate the fact that Harry doesn't mend his own wand with the Elder Wand before breaking it and that he doesn't return to the headmaster's office to explain to Dumbledore's portrait what he's done with the Hallows.

I could go on.

Sure, there are some really good parts of this last film that I'd like to save. I like the escape from Gringott's, which was very well done. I think they did a nice job with the actual duel between Molly and Bellatrix (I just don't like the way they placed it in the greater scene). I thought the scene were Harry brings back his loved ones using the Resurrection Stone was very good as was the scene with Dumbledore in the mystical King's Cross Station after Harry appears to have been killed by Voldemort in the Forest.

So it's not a total loss. But I still think that Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 is such a stinging disappointment that I have to limit my exposure to it.

Comparing Challenges: Saving the Stone versus Hunting the Horcrux

I read the ending of The Philosopher’s Stone the other day (again). And I was reminded, again, about how J.K. so effectively tailored her stories to the level of sophistication of her target audience.

As we all know, one of the most impressive things about Rowling’s seven-book series is that the maturity of each successive novel increases as her readers mature: the first novel is, in essence, a children’s book; the middle novels are designed for teens and young adults; and the final book, especially, is a complex, mature adult work.

There’s an easy way to see the difference between the simplicity of the early novels and the relative complexity of the later novels. Just look at how Rowling deals with two extremely similar situations near the ends of the first novel, The Philosopher’s Stone, and of the sixth book, The Half-Blood Prince.

When we get to the climax of The Philosopher’s Stone, we find our hero trio testing themselves against the various protections that have been put in place to defend the philosopher’s stone itself. They face Fluffy, Devil’s Snare, the flying keys, the Mountain Troll, the chess game, the bottle puzzle and finally the Mirror of Erised. After that, of course, Harry must take on Quirrell and Voldemort but let’s leave that aside for the moment.

Now this is a children’s book, remember, so none of the challenges can be too scary or too difficult. The tension must exist but it cannot be terrifying and, even more important, the protections they must get past have to be beatable. By them. As 12-year-olds.

In fact, since they are so new to magic as a whole, Rowling ensures that the solution to each protection is available to them, even if it is completely unrealistic that the people who put the protections in place would make them so easily overcome.

So Fluffy goes to sleep if you play him a bit of music. Devil’s Snare retracts from heat and light. Flitwick kindly leaves a set of broomsticks nearby to help them catch the needed key. The troll is already out cold. The chess game is winnable and the bottle puzzle provides sufficient information for a smart-enough witch or wizard to figure out how to move on safely.

Think about all of that for a moment. The professors of Hogwarts have taken on the task of ensuring the most powerful dark wizard in history, Voldemort, cannot steal the philosopher’s stone and use it to come back to full power. And yet they have designed each of their protections in such a way that it can be beaten. By children.

It makes no sense from a dramatic point of view, until you remember that this is a children’s book.

Okay, now fast forward to book six, The Half-Blood Prince. Dumbledore and Harry set out to steal the locket Horcrux from the cave. In this case, it is Voldemort who has set up a series of protections to keep intruders away from his precious possession. Does he set up his protections so that they can easily be beaten? Does he provide hints, clues or aids to help people get past his protections? No way.

First, he chooses a hiding place that no one should know about or suspect. It is only the fact that Dumbledore learned of the orphanage’s annual trips to the coast when he first visited the young Tom Riddle that allows Dumbledore to find out the general location of the cave.

Second, even though an intruder must know where to look and have the wherewithal to swim through turbulent seas to get into the cliffside cave, Voldemort hides the entrance to the inner cave using strong magic. As Dumbledore points out, only someone capable of seeing the minute traces left by a magical spell has any chance of finding that entrance. Once found, the intruder must then puzzle out how to make the entrance appear and open up, with no clues provided. If an intruder manages to get into the inner cave, he faces the lake, the inferi, the hidden boat, the killer potion, the inferi again, etc. etc. etc. etc.

Voldemort makes nothing easy. The only reason it is at all possible to get to the locket is because Voldemort himself may need to retrieve it at some point in the future. And I’m willing to wager that only a wizard as powerful and capable as Dumbledore, who does his homework and prepares meticulously for the task, could be successful at stealing the locket.

The first novel is a children’s book, so the challenges are manageable and even fun. The sixth novel is for mature teens and adults, so the challenges are extreme and terrifying.

Two very similar situations; two very different approaches.

I sometimes get frustrated with The Philospher’s Stone when I am faced, once again, with the fact that the protectors of the stone actually designed their protections to be defeatable. I have to remind myself that Rowling was writing for kids at that point and that her decisions in this regard are completely defensible.

When she was writing for adults, she treats the scenario in a much more realistic manner. It is clear that only Dumbledore is capable of breaching Voldemort’s defenses and, in fact, that he ends up dying in the attempt.

Again, wow. Great writing.

New insights into Harry's lonely walk

I have long admired the chapter in The Deathly Hallows where Harry, having learned the truth about his role in Dumbledore's plans, takes his solemn walk into the Forbidden Forest to face Voldemort and, ultimately, his own death.

In my opinion, J.K. captures this moment, these events perfectly and depicts Harry as responding to this situation precisely as I would have expected him to: with fear, with sadness, but with an unwavering resolve to face his own end with dignity, to sacrifice himself so that others may live.

I thought, to be honest, that I had read and digested fully this wonderful chapter such that I had plumbed fully its depths, understood every nuance, recognised every aspect of its achievement.

And then my boss walked into my cubicle the other day and showed me how wrong I was in my self-satisfaction.

"Do you think," she said in her quiet, self-effacing way, "that the descriptions of Harry's heart beating so hard that it seemed to wish to escape his chest in that scene are intended to hint to us that there is actually a bit of Voldemort's soul in there instead? That it is that last, unrecognised Horcrux inside Harry that is, in fact, pounding so hard as it recognises that it faces its own death?"

I was dumbfounded. Amazed. Awed. So simple, so perfect and, once it was pointed out to me, so obviously true.

J.K. writes the following at the start of the chapter, "The Forest Again": "He felt his heart pounding fiercely in his chest. How strange it was that in his dread of death, it pumped all the harder, valiantly keeping him alive. But it would have to stop, and soon. Its beats were numbered. How many would there be time for, as he rose and walked through the castle for the last time, out into the grounds and into the Forest?"

How could I have missed this? While Rowling suggests that it is, in fact, Harry's heart that is rebelling, it seems quite obvious now that it is, in fact, the Horcrux that is fighting for its life.

Later, Rowling writes: "His heart was leaping against his ribs like a frantic bird. Perhaps it knew it had little time left, perhaps it was determined to fulfil a lifetime's beats before the end."

Now that I read them from this perspective, these passages remind me of the descriptions of the locket Horcrux just before Ron destroys it with the Sword of Gryffindor: "The locket was twitching slightly. Harry knew that the thing inside it was agitated again. It had sensed the presence of the sword..."

Or, even earlier, when Harry and Hermione encounter the animate remains of Bathilda Bagshot: "Harry became aware of the locket against his skin; the thing inside it that sometimes ticked or beat had woken; he could feel it pulsing through the cold gold. Did it know, could it sense, that the thing that would destroy it was near?"

A prophetic question, as it turns out.

If my supervisor is right, and I think she is, then this earlier passage suggesting that a Horcrux can sense when it is approaching its own death serves to prepare us to recognise what J.K. is doing in "The Forest Again": using her usual sort of misdirection, she is telling us that there is a Horcrux inside Harry that senses its own impending destruction while misleading us to believe that it is, instead, Harry's own heart that is pounding in his chest as he approaches the Forbidden Forest.

Once again, brilliant writing. J.K. at her best, giving us information that is key while ensuring that we do not recognise it for what it is.

And proof that, no matter how many times you read and re-read Rowling's books, you will never really fully understand them unless you share and discuss them with others, add the insights of other Harry Potter fans to your own.

I'm learning a lot about these novels from my boss who is bringing a fresh, intelligent, thoughtful mind to them, who is reading them and understanding them in ways that I never could. I can only hope that I am providing similar insights to her and to anyone who reads this blog. And it explains why I treasure the comments people leave with regard to this blog, showing me the kindness of sharing their thoughts and insights with me.

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.

All hell breaks loose

"When have any of our plans ever worked? We plan. We get there. All hell breaks loose."

Harry says that to Hermione in The Deathly Hallows, Part 2, just after they've escaped Gringott's with Hufflepuff's Cup. He's told them that Voldemort knows they're hunting Horcruxes and that the final one can be found at Hogwarts.

When Hermione objects to the idea of going immediately to the school, saying they should plan instead, Harry responds, "When have any of our plans ever worked? We plan. We got there. All hell breaks loose."

Harry's right of course but it's an interesting line for the screenwriter, Steven Kloves, to have added to the story (it's not in the novel). Why does he throw this line in, since in some ways it sounds to me like a criticism of Rowling's books?

I doubt he intended to criticise Rowling in any way. I think he puts it in because he needs a quick explanation for why they have to go to Hogwarts immediately, without planning.

In the novel, the explanation is much deeper and more subtle. Voldemort realises they're hunting Horcruxes and decides that he has to visit the site at which he's hidden each of the others to confirm that they are still there.

Harry sees inside his mind as Voldemort thinks of each one and makes the decision to leave the one hidden at Hogwarts until last, feeling that it must be safe there with Snape in charge.

That gives the Hero Trio some time to get to Hogwarts and begin the search, while the Dark Lord is visiting his grandfather's shack and the cave by the sea.

They can't plan because they would be wasting the precious time granted them by Voldemort's search. It's a much more plausible and interesting explanation.

But, of course, the movie Harry is right. No matter how hard they plan, they always seem to survive on their wits alone.

The film's Voldemort becomes a sad and silly caricature

What did they do to Voldemort?

I mean, honestly, what were Stephen Kloves and David Yates thinking when they decided to rewrite Voldemort for the final film (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2, in case you forgot)?

First, they decide that the destruction of each Horcrux must affect him, either physically or psychologically. Not only is this contrary to J.K. Rowling's original novels, it's also contrary to their own earlier movies.

When Dumbledore destroyed the ring between films five and six, we see no evidence it had any impact on the Dark Lord. When Ron smashes the locket in Part 1, Voldemort doesn't howl in pain (either physical or psychic).

So it's not even internally consistent in the films that the destruction of Hufflepuff's Cup and Ravenclaw's Diadem would somehow damage Voldemort. And yet, there he is, damaged. Weakened, enraged.

This leads to the second, and even more significant, problem I have with the rewriting of Voldemort in Part 2. Instead of being a controlled, imposing, absolutely and resolutely sane villain as he is in the novels, Voldemort of the films degenerates into a giggling psycho.

Remember Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs? We feared him because he appeared so sane, so in control, so intelligent and charming and well-spoken, and yet he was capable of such monstrous evil.

That's the Voldemort J.K. created in her novels.

In Part 2, however, he loses that mystique. In the scene where he leads his army to the front doors of Hogwarts to show the school's defenders the apparently dead Harry, Voldemort prances and giggles like the worst version of Batman's enemy, the Joker. He's no longer scary but silly.

Worse, Voldemort's silliness fundamentally changes his encounter with Neville Longbottom. When Neville steps forward in the novel, Voldemort recognises in him all the characterstics he, the Dark Lord, admires: courage, loyalty, purity of blood. Voldemort speaks to Neville with a tone of respect and says he will make a fine Death Eater.

This makes Neville's continued resistance, his resolute commitment to Harry and the cause, even more significant. Neville has spent his life trying to prove himself, to himself, to his grandmother, to the wizarding world. Harry Potter's cause seems to be lost and here is the apparent new ruler of the magical world, extending an invitation to him to join the new regime, to take a respected place in that world. And Neville refuses. His loyalty, his commitment to all things good, make him reject the very acceptance and recognition that he has long hoped for, even if that rejection will likely cost him his life.

In the film version, Voldemort sneers at Neville, treats him with disdain, makes fun of him. This new silly, giggling villain is so lost he can no longer even recognise in others the qualities he has long claimed to admire and respect.

The film's depiction of this scene is, unfortunately, an insult not just to Neville but to Voldemort himself. It's too bad. Kloves and Yates don't seem to have the artistic sensitivity to recognise the elegant subtlety and depth of J.K. Rowling's original novels and the final film in this epic series suffers greatly as a result.

So Harry can now sense the presence of a Horcrux, can he?

I had planned for my first real commentary on Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2, to focus on the positives, things I liked, things that worked well in the film.

And there were many. But I can't get my mind away from some little things that are really bothering me. So I'll get to them first, in hopes that with them out of the way I can get back to all the good things.

First, when Neville leads Harry, Hermione and Ron from the Hog's Head to Hogwarts' Room of Requirement, we find a number of familiar faces waiting for them, including Seamus and Cho. Just as in the book, the Room is decked out like the cabin of a ship, with hammocks and banners for the students who had been driven out of the school. Yet, shortly thereafter when Snape calls together the entire school body to interrogate them about Harry's whereabouts, Cho, Seamus and many of the others we've just seen in the safety of the Room are there again.

That makes no sense: if they were forced to flee the school and take refuge in the Room, why would they return to the school now? And it they were still safe in the school, why would they be bunking out in the Room, rather than their much more comfortable House common rooms?

Second, how is that, after Harry captures maybe two drops of Snape's tears/memories as Snape dies, Harry pours about a hundred drops of tears into the Pensieve shortly thereafter?

Third, if Harry can sense the presence of a Horcrux, even in a large, crowded room like the Lestrange's vault of Gringott's or the Room of Requirement (Room of Hidden Things version), why didn't he sense at least something in the diary when he handled it way back in The Chamber of Secrets or in the locket at Grimmauld Place when they were cleaning out the place in The Order of the Phoenix? In neither of those instances did he sense anything about these items, even though he was in close proximity to both.

These quibbles are minor, I admit, but they bother me and, in my opinion, they detract from the effectiveness of this film.

Thoughts on deleted scenes and Spanish movie trailers

On the day that the last Harry Potter movie has its big premiere showing in London, England, all of the rest of the world must content ourselves knowing that we only have to wait eight more days to see the film.

Meanwhile, I was wandering through Youtube last night and I stumbled across two things that I had never seen before: first, a scene edited out of The Deathly Hallows, Part 1, and, second, the Spanish language trailer for The Deathly Hallows, Part 2.

The out-take scene that I found is likely on my Blu Ray copy of the film as well but, for some reason, my player struggles with the Deleted Scenes feature so I missed this one. It's the scene in the tent, just after the visit to the Ministry, with Ron lying on a cot, recovering from his splinching, and Harry and Hermione discussing the Horcruxes and where they might be.

The scene contains two massively important plot points, so important that I simply cannot believe the film-makers decided to save themselves at most 90 seconds by editing this scene out of the theatrical version. In it, Harry explains to Hermione Dumbledore's theories about the Horcruxes. First, Dumbledore believed that Voldemort chose objects of importance in magical history in which to hide his Horcruxes. Second, Dumbledore told Harry that the Dark Lord had chosen to hide his Horcruxes in locations that were personally important to him. Then Ron tells them that the name "Voldemort" has been tabooed and that the Death Eaters know immediately when someone uses it.

These are hugely important pieces of information. Without them, the film makes no sense to a person who has not read the book. I watched this scene last night in awe. Why did they take it out? It is so key!

As for the Spanish trailer, well, I was surprised to see that it was actually quite different from the English version. There are scenes and images in the Spanish one that you don't see in the English one, including several seconds of Harry and Voldemort, both on their stomachs, struggling to get to the Elder Wand, which is lying on the ground between them. This is a scene that is definitely not in the movie.

And that bothers me. It would seem that J.K.'s simple, almost matter-of-fact final end to their duel wasn't enough for the movie people. They have to turn it into an extended, epic battle.

Too bad. I thought the simple finality of Tom Riddle collapsing to the floor in the book was absolutely perfect.

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.

Ron Weasley gives himself away

I've just gotten to the part of The Deathly Hallows where, having learned that Ginny, Neville and Luna had broken into the headmaster's office to try to steal the Sword of Gryffindor, Harry and his two companions have their first conversation with the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black that Hermione took from the house on Grimmauld Place.

I find this an interesting conversation. When Phineas calls Ginny a "silly girl", Ron immediately tells him to "shut up about my sister". A natural response, to be sure, but also a real bonehead move on Ron's part. Here they have gone to great lengths to protect the Weasley family from persecution by convincing the entire wizarding world that Ron is home sick from school (and NOT hunting Horcruxes with Harry) and Ron goes and blows his own cover with that single exclamation.

What I've realised is that this should have been a clue to me as a reader that Snape is not evil after all. Ron gives himself away to Phineas, who is in contact with Snape and yet there are no negative repercussions to Ron or his family. Had I been reading the book carefully the first time, this fact (as well as the fact that Snape sent Ginny, Neville and Luna to Hagrid for their punishment, knowing Hagrid is a member of the Order of the Phoenix), should have been enough to make me wonder if Snape was really as evil as he was presented to be.

Too bad I was so caught up in the excitement of the novel to notice these hints. I guess that means J.K. did a good job writing the book, doesn't it?

Answering My Own Question

That just shows how carefully I read. Or maybe it says something about my memory.

A couple of posts ago I asked the question: whom did Tom Riddle murder to create the Horcrux in the diary? I speculated that it might have been the girl whose death was blamed on the monster hidden in the Chamber of Secrets during Riddle's (and Hagrid's) tenure at Hogwarts.

Well, surprise, surprise. J.K. answered that question clearly and unequivocally in The Half-Blood Prince. Riddle killed his Muggle father and grandparents when he was 16.

How did I not remember that?

It just goes to show how detailed and complex Rowling's magical world is. Over the course of the seven novels, she really did cover it all.

Some Thoughts on the Last Movie

I spent some time last night watching the trailer for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 on the internet. I am very excited about the premiere of this last film in the series in mid-July and wanted to get an early idea of what they filmmakers have done with the second half of Rowling's epic seventh novel.

Here's what I liked:
1. It looks like they're actually going to include Harry's trip through Snape's memories after Voldemort kills Severus. I had worried, after their disinclination to show most of the memories about Voldemort in The Half-Blood Prince, that they would cut this important vindication of Harry's longtime nemesis but the trailer clearer shows Lily and Petunia as girls, an important scene from Snape's childhood;
2. The action scenes in Gringott's and later in the Room of Requirement appear to be vividly evoked;
3. They don't seem to have pulled any punches when it comes to the Battle for Hogwarts, which should be spectacular;
4. Molly Weasley's duel with Bellatrix Lestrange seems to be included, one of my favourite developments late in the novel; and
5. Neville still gets to grab some glory for himself by killing Nagini with the Sword of Gryffindor (this information comes from one of the promotional photographs I've seen, not the trailer itself).

Things I wonder about, however, include:
1. The fact that it looks like they've taken the final duel between Harry and Voldemort outside; I liked the fact that Harry's showdown with the Dark Lord takes place, in the book, in the Great Hall in front of a large crowd of people, with Harry and Voldemort circling each other warily;
2. The fact that it looks like the movie makers have surrendered to the temptation to make that final duel spectacular, with lots of fire works, rather than following J.K.'s very satisfying, appropriate approach from the book: now that Harry and friends have eliminated all of the Horcruxes and now that Harry knows he is the true master of the Elder Wand, the final duel is almost an afterthought. It's all over with a single spell and elegant simplicity;
3. The strange scene in the trailer where Harry and Voldemort are arm in arm, standing above a precipice, and Harry says something like, "Let's end it Tom the way it started: the two of us together" and then launches both of them into the abyss. I don't have perfect recall of the final book but I cannot fathom where this goes and what it's meant to represent.

I'm sure there's much more I could say at this point but let's leave it at this: the last movie looks like it's going to be a blast. Not perfect but pretty thrilling nonetheless.