Sometimes I just wish Jo would leave well enough alone

J.K. continues to use Pottermore as an outlet for more and more of the backstory she had created for the Harry Potter stories.


Now, though I now have two Pottermore accounts, I can never remember my username nor my password for either account so I don't ever actually visit the site. So I am forced to rely on news reports of Rowling's little disclosures.


As a result, it is possible that I am not getting the complete story when I read, for example, the Guardian's summary of the author's latest Pottermore article, this time disclosing the source and history of the enmity between the Dursleys (Vernon and Petunia) and the Potters (James, Lily and Harry), I am not getting the full story.


But there are a couple of things in Rowling's latest release (as reported in the Guardian) with which I have real problems:


1. According to the Guardian, Rowling reports that, when James and Lily were first in a relationship, "James told [Vernon] of the solid gold his parents had in the wizarding bank Gringotts" but that Vernon remained unimpressed. Wait a minute: on several occasions in the novel Harry makes it clear that, if Uncle Vernon were to find out that James and Lily had left Harry with a pile of gold, Uncle Vernon would immediately try to get it away from Harry. Now Rowling tells us Vernon has known all along that James had gold and that Harry must have inherited it? Sorry, that doesn't fly with me.


2. Rowling appears to take great pains to explain, in realistic and adult terms, the horrific treatment Harry suffered at the hands of his Aunt and Uncle. What she seems to be losing sight of is that the most ignominious treatment (locking Harry in a cupboard under the stairs, putting bars on the windows of his bedroom, starving him, behaving in a physically intimidating even violent manner toward him) occurs in the early books of the series, books that were intended as books for children, where good and evil have to be presented in clear, unequivocal terms. This is fairy-tale evil, not realistic, adult evil.


Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon in the early novels are caricatures, not fully rounded characters -- they are most akin to the evil step sisters of Cinderella. It is folly for Rowling to attempt to rationalize the comic-book evil she presents in the early children's novels in adult terms. I have often celebrated the fact that Rowling's books matured with her readers -- that her later novels are written at a higher level, with more depth, complexity and sophistication, than were her earlier books. It's a great thing. A masterpiece. But it does that mastery a disservice to try to rationalize the simplicity of the early novels in a manner more suited to the adult world. The Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon of The Philosopher's Stone and The Chamber of Secrets are the purely evil villains of fairy tales. She should leave it at that, not try to explain it, rationalize it, justify it in the adult terms of the later novels!


3. According to the Guardian, Rowling says in her article that she feels that, in The Deathly Hallows, she presents Aunt Petunia “in a way that is most consistent with her thoughts and feelings through the previous seven books”. I believe that is a direct quote from Rowling's piece: "the previous seven books". Jo, there were only six previous books. You seem to be confusing your own series of seven wonderful novels with the increasingly awful eight films that were made from them.


I may be wrong about what's in the Rowling article. I hope I am. I hope the Guardian's report has misled me.

Adrenaline? or swimming lessons?

When did Harry learn to swim?

In the fabulous cave scene at the end of The Half-Blood Prince, Harry swims through treacherous sea waters, from the rock onto which he and Dumbledore had just apparated, across a narrow stretch of water and into a fissure that eventually leads to a set of steps onto a rocky shore in the middle of a cave.

Rowling says that Harry was weighed down by his waterlogged clothes as he swam, that he "struck out" to follow Dumbledore (who, quite charmingly, was doing "a perfect breaststroke" with his wand held between his teeth), that he "continued to swim" in the "icy" water with "benumbed fingers" before seeing Dumbledore "rising out of the water ahead" and then following him.

What with the dangerous, icy water, the weight of his clothes, and the fact that Dumbledore is able to get quite far ahead of him, this sounds like quite a challenging swim.

Even more impressive, on the way back, Harry must carry the weight of a weak, faint Head Master as he swims back from the cave to the rock before apparating back to Hogsmeade.

It's an excellent, exciting part of the novel and leads directly into the incredible climax involving Death Eaters in Hogwarts.

But when did Harry learn to swim?

In book four, The Goblet of Fire, Rowling writes the following passage to describe Harry's reaction upon deducing that the second task in the Tri-Wizard Tournament would involve swimming into the lake on the grounds of Hogwarts:

But [Harry] suddenly realized what he was saying, and he felt the excitement drain out of him as though someone had just pulled a plug in his stomach. He wasn't a very good swimmer; he'd never had much practice. Dudley had had lessons in their youth, but Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, no doubt hoping that Harry would drown one day, hadn't bothered to give him any. A couple of lengths of this bath was all very well, but that lake was very large, and very deep...

In two years, Harry has gone from someone whose stomach drops at the thought of being required to swim any distance to someone who can swim a fair distance through frigid, dangerous waters, carrying the weight of a fully-grown adult who is incapable of swimming on his own.

I guess you could argue that, when the need is that great, adrenaline would permit Harry to swim that distance, carrying Dumbledore... but it seems our beloved author missed something between these two stories, doesn't it?

In real life, the Dursleys would be considered child abusers

A scary story appeared today on the CBC News website (cbc.ca) on May 30, 2014 under the headline: 

London, Ont., couple charged after boy, 10, found locked in 'squalid' house

Boy's aunt and uncle face charges of forcible confinement

For fans of Harry Potter, the story sounds eerily familiar:

A couple in London, Ont., face charges of forcible confinement and failing to provide the necessaries of life after their 10-year-old nephew was found malnourished and locked in a bedroom of a house that police describe as "filthy" and "squalid." Police said they found the boy locked in a bedroom that has an ensuite bathroom. Police believe the boy had been confined there for 18 months to two years. The boy, who police say was underweight and suffering from malnutrition, was taken to hospital. He has since been released from hospital and is in the care of the Children's Aid Society. The couple facing charges have a biological child who was also living in the house at the time. That child, whose age and gender have not been released, is also now in the care of the CAS. Police said there is no evidence that the couple's biological child was confined inside the house.

How often was Harry left locked in his tiny bedroom by his uncle and aunt, with only short breaks to go to the bathroom and with only the most basic of meals provided through a flap in the door, while his cousin Dudley enjoyed complete freedom?

Now, granted, Harry was only confined for a couple of days at a time, not for 18-24 months like the poor child in the news story but, when you think about it, locking a child in a bedroom for any extended period of time is abuse and a pretty serious offense.

It's a wonder none of the neighbours in Little Whinging ever called the authorities on Vernon and Petunia Dursley!

Petunia's on the Platform for an "Aha!" Moment

I love those “Aha!” moments. The kind of moments that only come because you know the books so well that you've got the seventh novel running in the back of your brain as you read the first one again.

Not that I want to be aggressively critical of J.K. Rowling. In fact, I think it's because she makes so few “continuity errors” over the course of these seven incredibly complex books that I actually feel joy when I find one. The fact that it's taken me about 20 readings of the novels to spot this one makes it even more amazing.

Take the following passages from Chapter 6 of The Philosopher's Stone:

    [Harry] pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket.

    “I just take the train from platform nine and three quarters at eleven o'clock,” he read.

    His aunt and uncle stared.

    “Platform what?”

    “Nine and three quarters.”

    “Don't talk rubbish,” said Uncle Vernon, “there's no platform nine and three quarters.”

    “It's on my ticket.”

    “Barking,” said Uncle Vernon, “howling mad, the lot of them. You'll see. You just wait.”

And later...

    “Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine – platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?”

    He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.

    “Have a good term,” said Uncle Vernon with an even nastier smile. He left without another word. Harry turned and saw the Dursleys drive away. All three of them were laughing.

 Reading those two sections, you would believe that Aunt Petunia is as incredulous over Harry's claim that there is actually a platform nine and three quarters at King's Cross Station as Uncle Vernon is. No, Petunia doesn't actually say anything but she does first “stare” at Harry when he first introduces the idea of platform nine and three quarters and then joins in the derisive laughter when the Dursley family drives away, leaving Harry lost and stranded at King's Cross.

So we are given to believe that Petunia has never heard of platform nine and three quarters and is as skeptical as her husband regarding the possibility of its existence.

Now read this passage from Snape's memory montage in Chapter 33 of The Deathly Hallows:

    And the scene reformed. Harry looked around: he was on platform nine and three quarters., and Snape stood beside him, slightly hunched, next to a thin, sallow faced, sour-looking woman who greatly resembled him. Snape was staring at a family of four a short distance away. The two girls stood a little apart form their parents. Lily seemed to be pleading with her sister; Harry moved closer to listen.

    “...I'm sorry, Tuney, I'm sorry! Listen -” She caught her sister's hand and held tight to it, even though Petunia tried to pull away.

What's this? Aunt Petunia actually visited platform nine and three quarters with Harry's mother? She's been there and knows it exists? So why is she acting like the idea of a platform called nine and three quarters is ridiculous twenty or so years later?

My colleague suggests that Aunt Petunia might just be acting in The Philosopher's Stone, that she remembers platform nine and three quarters but has trained herself to act like she knows nothing of the magical world, especially when she's around her husband.

Maybe. But I don't think so. I'd be more ready to believe it if Rowling described Aunt Petunia as looking down, glancing away, looking solemn or something like that. But in both cases where Petunia is described in these passages, she is responding exactly the same way Vernon is: first staring, then laughing. When Rowling wrote The Philosopher's Stone, she intended to convey that both Harry's Aunt and Harry's Uncle thought the idea of a platform nine and three quarters at King's Cross was absolutely ridiculous.

And then forgot that when she came to write The Deathly Hallows.