Re-examining Harry Potter

A bit under two years ago, shortly after the release of the seventh and final Harry Potter book, I blitzed through the entire series. I ready all seven books in under three weeks, while moving, and with multiple day waiting periods between the fifth and sixth and sixth and seventh books. At the ripe old age of 20, I was able to appreciate what I hadn't been able to when I first tried to read the series as a Tolkien obsessed 12-year-old; and I got thoroughly sucked into J.K. Rowling's world. This over-exposure hit me hard. I briefly fell in love with one of the fictional characters. I spent a couple of days when I finished being about as depressed as I've ever been over the fact that I didn't live in that world. After the dust had settled, I started to wonder what had captivated me so strongly, and I vowed that I would re-read the series more slowly, and out of order, to try and figure things out.

Last summer, I went back and re-read Prisoner of Azkaban (the third book) and Half Blood Prince (the sixth book), which had been my favorites after an initial reading. I read them more slowly and deliberately. I am currently re-reading Goblet of Fire (the fourth book, which is a favorite for many readers), and I think I can say a few things with certainty.

First, the reason these books are successful is simple. Very few people have been exposed to well-imagined fantasy worlds that remain accessible to the average reader. I've been put off by lots of traditional fantasy in recent years simply because immersion into the world is too hard to achieve. This is either because it feels like it hasn't been fleshed out (everything outside the scope of the book is uncharted and essentially non-existent) or because it is too far apart from reality as I know it. Rowling has handily avoided both of these pit-falls. The vast majority of the time, I feel as though there is a world out there much larger than the one that Harry's adventures take place in, and the fact that we're discovering the very existence and intricacies of this world along with Harry helps.

Second, and less positive, the books are a far cry from perfect, even for young adult literature. I don't feel like I noticed it as much with PoA or HBP, but re-reading GoF, I feel like Rowling spends a lot of time at the beginning of the novel trying to reintroduce certain elements of the world she's created or past plot points. Virtually all of these moments feel forced, largely because they involve a lot of telling. Having the narration switch tone and move away from the current action is distracting, and I think that Rowling could have avoided this easily.

One way would be through better use of dialog. For instance, in an early chapter of GoF, we are introduced to the characters of Bill and Charlie Weasley for the first time. This is also the first time that Harry has met the characters. Everybody is preparing to go to the Quiditch World Cup, and the characters are talking excitedly about the sport. Suddenly, narration shifts location and we hear about Harry's exploits as the seeker for the Griffyndor house team over the past three years. This easily could have come in the form of dialog from Bill and Charlie, whom, having just met Harry for the first time, would have good cause to try and use the subject to try and strike up conversation. I mean, consider the following dialog, template

Bill: "I hear you're quite the Quiditch star yourself, Harry."
Charlie: "Made seeker on the house team as a first year, didn't you?"

It gets the point across without feeling forced or breaking the action, and would even open up room for some banter to help us get to know these characters better faster. We could easily have covered things like what happened with Sirius the year prior or Harry's dislike for Divination class through conversation instead of narration.

Another way to avoid this obtrusive telling would be to simply have more respect for your audience. Yeah, relevant plot points from the last book may need to be brought up, but some mundane aspects of the wizarding world don't need to be explained again. We don't need to remind people how awesome Harry's Firebolt broom is, for example. Nor do we need to be reminded which ghosts are associated with which houses or that Harry received his broom maintenance kit from Hermione the year before. These aren't important to the plot. They are trivia, and trying to put all of your readers on equal footing in terms of trivial knowledge is a waste of time. Also, people like to remember or figure these sorts of things out on their own. It adds an "aha" or an "oh, yeah" moment that makes us feel intelligent.

Neil Gaiman plug! The thing that most impressed me about the (Newbury Award winning) young adult novel Graveyard Book was the level of respect that Gaiman showed his young readers. This is exemplified best by the fact that we are never explicitly told within the confines of the text that Silas is a vampire. We are shown this fact in numerous ways, but we are never clubbed with it. We are free to realize it at our own speed. If you're completely unfamiliar with vampire lore or oblivious to the language used to describe his existence between life and death, then you could go the whole book without realizing this fact, and it wouldn't detract from your ability to appreciate the story at all. This is the perfect example of the kind of respect that Rowling, in her desire to include everybody, sometimes lacks.

As the book goes on, though, and as the main plot and the new material pick up, these moments become rarer, and I find myself more continually enraptured in the world of Hogwarts. It's been a delightful place to visit again, and I fully intend to buy the whole set for myself in the not-too-distant future. I only hope that re-experiencing Deathly Hallows this Fall won't be as painful as I'm afraid it will be. The more I think about that book, and in particular its ending, the more I'm certain I don't like it nearly as much as the rest. I'll make sure to let you all know.