Wild about Harry, Hogwarts and all

 

Thomas M. KEANE, Jr.

27 June 2003

Boston Herald

 

 

Much has been made of the publishing and cultural phenomenon that is the fifth and latest installment of J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series. It is something else as well: a literary happening that bodes well for those who fear that in a video-addled world, books are somehow disappearing from our lives.

 

Rowling's kickoff book, 1998's "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone," seemed a marvel at the time: a children's book that actually made the New York Times bestseller list.

 

That, it turned out, was nothing.

 

Each Potter book since has been a bigger selling than the last. The newest, "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix," had a record-breaking printing of 13 million copies worldwide. Online bookseller Amazon.com received over 1 million advance orders for the book, all set to arrive - guaranteed or your money back - on its official release date of Saturday, June 21.

 

Yet the Potter books aren't the ordinary kind of mass-media events defined by special effects-laden movies or character toys at Burger King. These are serious books. Rowling's first was 309 pages - printed in small, dense typeface, just like adult fiction. Each subsequent book has been longer; the latest is a staggering 870 pages. All told, the five books are nearly 2,700 pages. By the time the seventh, and last, is completed, the pages could well number 4,500.

 

Yet kids are reading them.

 

Immediately after the latest installment arrived Saturday (to avoid some sort of catastrophic sibling war, we ordered two), my daughters, 11 and 13, disappeared. Taking breaks only for food and water, they read constantly, finishing up after midnight.

 

Bryn, the youngest, slept the next day until nearly noon, got up and proceeded to read the whole thing again.

 

My kids were hardly alone in this behavior. In families across the nation, this has been a week marked by long silences and children curled up on couches and pillows. In a world of video games, television and instant messaging, how can this be happening?

 

When we got the first Potter book in spring 1999, the two children were of an age where they still preferred I read them to sleep. From the opening pages, Rowling drew one into the tale of an orphaned child abused by his aunt and uncle and subconsciously aware he is out of place in their world.

 

At the end of Chapter 3, we find a miserable and unloved Harry, trapped with his aunt and uncle on a rocky and otherwise deserted island far at sea, watching the clock as it ticks down to his 11th birthday.

 

At that moment, impossibly, there is a knock on the door.

 

Telling the kids it was late and we would pick up the story tomorrow, I put down the book.

 

They shrieked. We read on.

 

Rowling, as many have noted, is not the most technically gifted of writers.

 

Her dialogue is often clumsy, she excessively relies on words - like "sniggers" - that jar the reader, and some of her plot devices are problematic (the "Time-Turner," a gadget in the third book that enables the young magicians to go back in time, springs to mind).

 

But good writing is not necessarily a function of one's wordsmithing. Nor does a weak plot device have to undermine a story's strength. When it comes to the things that matter, Rowling seems to have a firm grasp of her craft.

 

Rowling creates enormously interesting characters in a fictional setting that is simultaneously strange and familiar. Each installment builds on the other, with the once-simple world in which Harry finds himself becoming ever more complex. Characters that we thought were good (such as Harry's dead father) turn out to be deeply flawed; others that were just nasty-minded foils (such as the Potions' master Snape) become deep and multifaceted. And the wizarding world, we find, is not necessarily very high-minded: It tolerates slavery of house elves, it has its own version of racism (pureblood vs. mudblood wizards) and it is too willing to ignore evil in its midst.

 

In other words, the saga is much like growing up: It's the search for one's own identity as the simple absolutes of childhood give way to the moral complications of adulthood. And Rowling does all this in an engaging and exciting fashion that challenges her readers. The plot strands are convoluted (which is one reason the books bear rereading) and terrible things happen to important characters. Moreover, Harry himself is no paragon. Now in his adolescence, he is oftentimes jealous, moody and far too full of himself.

 

This is the stuff that, to an unprecedented degree, has captured imaginations everywhere. At a time when children have been reading less, Harry Potter dramatically bucks the tide. Kids, it turns out, really do like to read. All they need is what Rowling gives them: a good story, well told.

 

Talk back to Tom Keane at tomkeane@tomkeane.com.