Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
I felt a sense of unease which grew as I read this seventh book by J K Rowling. It wasn’t the bad writing, as someone suggested – it’s pretty much the same as her previous books, with her derivatory storytelling and her difficulty with cohesion – but something else. The entire series is a coming of age story, but a very different one. The usual COA style is to have the hero discover life, bigger than the world he knew, have a few sexual experiences, and discover something about himself along the way. This is quite the opposite. The writer has made Harry’s journey a slow discovery of death – and that’s why I felt quite uncomfortable, considering it’s a children’s book.
The plot is basic – Harry and his pals have to destroy certain magical objects, defeat the Dark Lord, and win back the Kingdom (yes, it’s straight out of Diana Wynne Jones’Tough Guide to Fantasy-Land). The plot of the series is similar, except in every book, right from the first, Harry’s knowledge of death is deepened. Firstly, he discovers his parents’ deaths and his own near-death; it moves on to several close calls as he faces dangerous situations (and creatures!) and faces the possible deaths of himself and his friends; then the possible becomes actual, with more and more characters dying in each book; and finally this last book, where the grounds of Hogwarts are littered with bodies. However, it’s not just that sort of knowledge Harry discovers. From the first book, where he meets ghosts and sees his dead parents in a mirror, through to seeing dead friends and family conjured up by his wand and then through the shadows, to finally hanging around in the land of the dead – Harry really does get an intimate knowledge of “the deathly hallows”. Even his “sexual” experiences are both tainted with death and sorrow. And then there’s the messianic overtones with the hero having to die, rather than having to live.
I personally felt that the book, and the entire series, was incredibly grim and morbid, in the same way the Phillip Pullman series was, and therefore quite disappointing. The initial three books, while definitely introducing these ideas, didn’t dwell on them to the same extent the last four books did. They had a sense of fun and joy – the Quidditch, the four-poster beds and feasts, the boy finding a home. Any fun or happiness in the last books were all “in spite of” – in spite of looming fear and danger. There’s a definite early 21st century feel, that the world is coming to an end, that the good old days are gone because of terrorism and environmental destruction and so forth. On the other hand, I couldn’t help but feel comparisons with John Buchan, Kipling and Conrad’s Lord Jim; a sort of Boy’s Own feel, do it – whatever ugly thing must be done – for the country, and all will be well. Unfortunately Kim would not be pleased if he checked in on Afghanistan lately; perhaps that’s why the mild coda certainly didn’t make up for – or even fit well with – the rest of the book or series.
The plot is basic – Harry and his pals have to destroy certain magical objects, defeat the Dark Lord, and win back the Kingdom (yes, it’s straight out of Diana Wynne Jones’Tough Guide to Fantasy-Land). The plot of the series is similar, except in every book, right from the first, Harry’s knowledge of death is deepened. Firstly, he discovers his parents’ deaths and his own near-death; it moves on to several close calls as he faces dangerous situations (and creatures!) and faces the possible deaths of himself and his friends; then the possible becomes actual, with more and more characters dying in each book; and finally this last book, where the grounds of Hogwarts are littered with bodies. However, it’s not just that sort of knowledge Harry discovers. From the first book, where he meets ghosts and sees his dead parents in a mirror, through to seeing dead friends and family conjured up by his wand and then through the shadows, to finally hanging around in the land of the dead – Harry really does get an intimate knowledge of “the deathly hallows”. Even his “sexual” experiences are both tainted with death and sorrow. And then there’s the messianic overtones with the hero having to die, rather than having to live.
I personally felt that the book, and the entire series, was incredibly grim and morbid, in the same way the Phillip Pullman series was, and therefore quite disappointing. The initial three books, while definitely introducing these ideas, didn’t dwell on them to the same extent the last four books did. They had a sense of fun and joy – the Quidditch, the four-poster beds and feasts, the boy finding a home. Any fun or happiness in the last books were all “in spite of” – in spite of looming fear and danger. There’s a definite early 21st century feel, that the world is coming to an end, that the good old days are gone because of terrorism and environmental destruction and so forth. On the other hand, I couldn’t help but feel comparisons with John Buchan, Kipling and Conrad’s Lord Jim; a sort of Boy’s Own feel, do it – whatever ugly thing must be done – for the country, and all will be well. Unfortunately Kim would not be pleased if he checked in on Afghanistan lately; perhaps that’s why the mild coda certainly didn’t make up for – or even fit well with – the rest of the book or series.
posted by Carly at 10:08 am
2 Comments:
I didn't think it was all that badly written -- simply, perhaps, but not badly at all... Except for the lame efforts at sexual situations, which were just eye-rollingly embarrassing and completely devoid of any sort of chemistry. Then again, I can't say I was keen on reading about the trio's adventures in this department, tame or otherwise, so I didn't much care.
Morbid and dark it definitely is. The first book freaked me out (given that it's a children's book) with the unicorn blood thing -- very dark! -- and it's been going that way ever since. Still, I thought this book, despite spiralling into outright horror (that snake, eewww), did have a bit of a sense of fun. A lot of people are arguing about the hero-must-die aspect of it, either that it's a Christian parallel or a suicide bomber parallel (ack) but ... Truth to tell, I just sat back and enjoyed the ride.
And Jenny reckons it's her favourite in the whole series. I guess that's the secret - there's something for everyone in the books. I personally preferred the earlier ones, while others liked the later books. I think as a teacher I can't help but think of the child's perspective, and I feel it's too grim for them.
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