Happy Birthday, Harry Potter
This is a throwback post…written on July 29, 2007 after I read the final volume of the Harry Potter series. I picked up the first book when I worked at an elementary school. All the kids were reading The Sorcerer’s Stone and I wanted to see what the fuss was about. Plus, I liked reading what the kids were reading…it gave me something to talk about with them. After the first one, I was hooked: long after I left the school, I was still reading Harry Potter. I’m going to read it again, too…with my grandkids.
Spoiler Alert
July 29, 2007
I read the back first. I always do that — not just with Harry. It doesn’t make one iota of difference to me as far as reading pleasure goes to know the outcome of certain beloved characters, but this time — I had to know. What would have ruined my reading pleasure of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows would have been to plow through 759 pages only to find that all the naysayers and provocateurs were right: That for some crazy reason JK had killed off one of the three. I trusted JK as I’ve always trusted Dumbledore and didn’t think that it would happen, but I just had to know. So, as soon as I got my hands on the book, I cracked it open right to the back page and smiled. Now I could settle in to read one of my favorite series ever right to the very end — with pleasure.
I am a big Harry Potter fan. Not the kind that hangs out at bookstores at midnight dressed as Professors Trelawney or McGonagall, but the kind that takes her $25 Amazon gift certificate Christmas present and pre-orders the final installment in February. The kind that sits on her front stoop on the morning of July 21st waiting for the postman, kicking herself for going for FREE Super Saver shipping when she should have selected One-Day shipping to insure a Saturday delivery. What if it doesn’t come? The kind that meets the arrival of the postman when she sees that he does, in fact, have a small white box in his hands in the driveway. And when he sees me waiting for him at my back door, he assures me, “Yes, it’s here.” I smile excitedly and ask, “Has everyone been meeting you at the door today?” and he just shakes his head (is that pity I detect?) and says simply, “No.”
I shrug off the sympathy and place the book on my kitchen counter, wondering if I can just let it sit there for a few moments while I savor the arrival and the imminent pleasure. Nope. I open it carefully as if the box itself is some sort of treasure and push aside notices of some other book — like I’m interested— and just hold it for a minute. My husband is watching this ritual and while usually mum on such matters audibly gasps as I turn to the last page. “You’re looking at the end?!” he asks incredulously? I, of course, ignore him and read. He shakes his head — somewhat similarly to the postman — and heads off to his appointment. I have the house and the book to myself now and even when he returns in about 3 hours, he knows that it will be as if I’m not even there….I’ll be reading Harry Potter. And I won’t stop until I’m done.
And I didn’t. I read and read and read until I couldn’t stay awake on Saturday night and got up the next morning and read and read until about 10:30 am. Done. It was a thrilling and engaging story and I was thoroughly mesmerized right ‘til the very end — even knowing the very end. I guess I’m just not a delayed gratification kind of gal. I’m an instant gratification kind of gal and it doesn’t for an instant impact my life in any negative or destructive way. None that I’ve found, anyway. I marvel at those delayed gratification people, mostly because they are the ones who can have a big bag of M&Ms in their desk drawer at work and not consume the entire stock in one day, but mete a few out on a daily basis for a month. As if you can’t buy more! I understand eating an entire bag of M&Ms in one sitting can be bad for you, but it’s not like I do it every day. What if I get hit by a bus? I’d have a whole bag of M&Ms just sitting there…wasted.
But back to Harry. I’ve spent the last ten years engaged with a world of characters and places and events that have totally absorbed my attention and imagination. When the movies came out, they didn’t disappoint visually or in content and each subsequent book drew more and more on a collective literary experience that continued to connect those established characters and their plight with current issues and topics. Dumbledore’s words to Harry at the end of each book were the moral of the story that resonated within each reader, child or adult. They weren’t great books, but they were great stories. I counted on this final story to remain true to itself and it did. That’s how I knew that Harry, Ron and Hemione weren’t going to get killed off. It’s how I knew Snape would redeem himself and it’s how I knew I could read the end of the book first, because I already knew how it would turn out. Unforgivable? Maybe.
So, Crucio me.