So, in about 10 hours, I will be queuing up, along with the rest of the world, to procure my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. This will be preceded by a day of making pumpkin pasties and butterbeer and decorating our apartment with potions, Mandrake roots, torches, and Gryffindor banners, all in the celebration of reading. Since the third book, it has been the Lingual household tradition to read the books aloud (so it takes us just a little longer than everyone else...). Did I mention that we don't have kids?
In a lovely little piece called "Harry Potter and the Death of Reading" in last Sunday's Washington Post, literary critic Ron Charles takes aim at the popular Harry Potter series.
But all around me, I see adults reading J.K. Rowling's
books to themselves: perfectly intelligent, mature people, poring over
"Harry Potter" with nary a child in sight. Waterstone's, a British book
chain, predicts that the seventh and (supposedly) final volume, "Harry
Potter and the Deathly Hallows," may be read by more adults than
children. Rowling's U.K.
publisher has even been releasing "adult editions." That has an
alarmingly illicit sound to it, but don't worry. They're the same books
dressed up with more sophisticated dust jackets -- Cap'n Crunch in a
Gucci bag.
I'd like to think that this is a romantic return to
youth, but it looks like a bad case of cultural infantilism. And when
we're not horning in on our kids' favorite books, most of us aren't
reading anything at all.
Now Charles' op ed has a larger point: he's worried about the future of writing and publishing in the face of corporate media in the 21st century. And, I would argue that all of us who are writers, readers, and thinkers, share a similar concern. As a working poet, I can testify to the fact that I never, ever thought I would be able to make it financially as a writer. So, into academe I went. Call it poetry as a profession, with a little academe on the side.
But, Charles' op ed would have convinced me more if he hadn't struck such a low blow. His piece is filled with the kind of literary snobbery that drives me wild. Charles is hoping for the American & British public to read higher literary fare; although at the end of his piece he talks about books like Jonathan Strange and Mrs. Norrell, the work of Philip Pullman, and other high end fantasy and fiction, I think he's being disingenuous. In the hallowed halls of literary academe, Strange & Norrell didn't get a second glance. It was dismissed at "Harry Potter for adults." In short, it's not the "stuff" of literature. In fact, nothing that smacks of genre is (one need only to look at the derisive early reception of magical realists in this country to see the ways in which American literature is more the realm of Steinbeck and Hemingway than of Borges). No, instead, I'd hazard a guess that Charles' is actually the stuff of deeply dark and sorrowful contemporary American literature in which a sadly troubled protagonist comes to some larger epiphany about the harrows of contemporary life. Or, as Harold Bloom would have us read, the stuff of the literary "masters."
But here's the thing: these critiques overlook one of the oldest obligations of literature--the giving of pleasure. Rowling truly offers something that those writers don't. She builds a world that different and exciting. I've written before about the wonders of writer Michael Chabon (who, I would argue, is the best contemporary American writer) and artist Matthew Barney for their incredible world-building. Rowling does the same. Hers is a world, call it the "alternative real," that readers want to enter and explore. She creates a world by naming and description that is enthralling and captivating. Haven't butterbeer and Hippogriffs and the "crucio" curse all become a part of the Harry Potter lexicon and something just a little bit "real" in your imagination? Who hasn't dreamed of their own four poster bed in Hogwarts? And to me, the mark of a good book is one that takes you away from everyday life. And when you leave it, you feel just a little bit homesick. Rowling does that for her readers. Or maybe I'm just the victim of a 10 year love potion.
The thing is, a lot of contemporary "literature" just isn't good at that kind of world building and myth creation. While I am a HUGE fan of contemporary American literature (and in my day job, also a scholar of said field), much of it is stuck in the stultifying present. There are of course many exceptions to this statement, but by and large, a lot of contemporary literary fiction pushes its readers towards wider revelations about a character or place (anything that makes a political or social revelation is still dismissed in elite circles as some kind of muckraking) and it doesn't speak of any sense of wonder (and remember, here critics of Rowling aren't talking about any kind of genre, pulp-fiction. They talk about "literature." That's capital "L" with no room for the likes of pot boilers or derivative fiction). I've long held that American literature has a lot to learn from Latin American magical realism in its truest sense. Many (not all) contemporary American writers dread straying from the oppressive real. The most recent novels of Tom Wolfe to Philip Roth to Jonathan Franzen to Jeffrey Eugenides to Cormac McCarthy (wow--that's a surprisingly male list!) all reveal a kind of deep, morose and desperate contemporary moment. And not that we're not in a deep and desperate moment. I believe deeply in literature's important role as social commentary. I also believe in the beauty of language and prosody. (Quick side note: I would like to also say that I think this lack is precisely the void that women writers like Toni Morrison, Amy Tan, Maxine Hong Kingston, Julia Alvarez, Carole Maso, Michael Chabon, and others have filled. Charles also bemoans the loss of "biodiversity" in literature.
But, that's been the whole point in the struggles for multiculturalism
in the literary canon in the 1980s and 1990s. Give me a break:
nothing says homogeneous like the male, white writers who overwhelm
American literary studies [not to mention Western European
literature]. It's been hard for anyone else to get a place at the
literary table).
It's more than just world building and myth creation with Rowling, however. She's also a master of character development. Anyone studying fiction writing today should be required to read the series to learn how to deftly "grow" characters from childhood into adolescence. The changes in Harry and his friends have been remarkable. Rowling has captured them, and those around them, with a deft and compellingly compassionate pen. In the last book, who knew that we might feel sympathetic towards Snape or Malfoy? Rowling has not only taken the most celebrated boy of her universe--Harry--and made us all fans, but she has also rescued the least and the last of her own world--outcasts like Lupin and Dobby and Black--and made us love them. When Dumbledore died at the end of the last book, readers truly grieved the loss. When was the last time you cried when reading a book? There's a lot to be said for a writer who is so skilled at the affective. There's also something remarkable about a writer who can command her readers' devotion to such a host of characters. Rowling has created something akin to a "collective" hero in her books, making Harry a protagonist whose success is always linked to those around him. (I seriously wish that I cared about any one of Philip K. Roth's characters as much as I care about Ron, Hermione, Harry, Dumbledore and the gang. Instead, I usually want to slap his characters into a stupor.)
Which brings me to my last point. Rowling has also achieved something extraordinary in her writing. She has created a generation of readers linked by their love of Harry Potter, and because of the changes in our modern world, with the auspices of Net 2.0, she has created a Harry Potter community. Before, the idea of communities devoted to a writer was the stuff of the most elite academic circles. Think Shakespeare scholars and the Folger library. Think of Victorian literary scholarship.
While children's books have often served to make children fans of a particular character (Nancy Drew, Junie B. Jones, Encyclopedia Brown, etc.), the Harry Potter phenomenon is something altogether distinct and I think it has something to do with that previous idea of world building. People so desperately want to be a part of the Harry Potter world that they are finding more ways than ever before (yes, yes, I know fan fiction preceded Potter) to extend Harry's world into our own.
To wit: last night I had an extraordinary experience. The Harry Potter Alliance, which aims to connect the idea of "doing good" in Harry's world to fighting injustices like Darfur in our own world, hosted "Wizard Rock" at the Bohemian Hall in Astoria, Queens. Three bands, paying homage to all things Harry, played book-inspired songs in celebration of Harry Potter. We heard Harry and the Potters, Draco & the Malfoys, and The Hungarian Horntails. What a hoot!
Draco & the Malfoys: (Press photo from Evil Wizard Rock)
It was a raucous evening, reliving the different episodes in each book from 3 different perspectives. Fans from 3 to 80 showed up with hats, wands, scars, school colors, and a rambunctious attitude. Despite a threatening summer storm, the crowd braved the rain to "Party Like You're Evil" and to celebrate the love that fans hope will bring Harry through the next book.
Now, I know that many sci-fi and fantasy writers have their own followers (ever been to a Trekkie convention?). But, this is something different and larger because it cuts across so many different kinds of readers and ages in our society. Think about it: how many other books do we share as a society? While the much embattled literary canon sets out a list of writers that people "should" read and we are exposed to in our schooling, how many kids have opted out via Cliff or Spark notes? Harry Potter is a literary phenomenon because so many people have willingly sought it out on their own. And what's more, as a testament to Rowling's creation, they've stayed through 7 books. Critics like Charles want to accuse the literary public of some kind of capitalistic stupidity. Buy an iPhone, buy your Harry Potter, drink your Starbucks. But really: marketing doesn't account for everything. There are millions of products, including books, that we're told to buy everyday and we don't, or that we do buy and then we're disappointed about having given into the hype.
But tonight, millions of readers are showing up at midnight not because they are stupid, not because someone told them to, not because they don't know anything about literature. They are showing up in droves, dressed like wizards and muggles alike, because Rowling has achieved something extraordinary for her readers. She's created a world where they want to be and that they care desperately about. Tonight, millions of readers around the world, myself included, are lining up to go home to the enchanting world of Hogwarts and the world of Harry Potter. We've been homesick for two years. And, we will relish the journey, live each step with Harry, and dread the inevitable end of what has been one of the most amazing, epic literary journeys any writer has ever invited us on.
A Little More on Wizard Rock
Other posts on reading Potter
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