Sunday July 29, 2007
Magic every step of the way
Review by SORAYA SUNITRA KEE
WOE is the world of Potterheads now that the day they have been waiting for with impatience and dread has come and gone: Harry Potter’s last escapade is in print, and the saga of the boy wizard has been brought to a close.
While there has been scathing online feedback from frustrated fans, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows manages to pip my previous favourite, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, for top spot in the list of novels that form the compelling journey of, arguably, the most idolised teenager in contemporary fiction.
Harry comes of age in Deathly Hallows, as he has to shoulder his most onerous task to date without help from adults, and with only faithful friends Ron and Hermione by his side. From the very beginning of the journey, J.K. Rowling makes it clear that, in the dangerous place Harry’s world has become, death and heartbreak are inevitable.
Unlike some of its occasionally plodding predecessors, Deathly Hallows has tightly-wound action sequences that hit you at every corner you turn before you can even exclaim “Protego!”, and their impact is all the more intense because of the jolting deaths of several characters. Unapologetically edge-of-your-seat scenes outnumber the humdrum ones; I found myself resisting the need to go to the toilet.
Along with the action, however, comes the voyage into Harry’s psyche, the unravelling of the human heart. His problems are a far cry from acne, homework and girls (although his pining for ex-girlfriend Ginny makes me quite nauseous). Rowling’s depiction of his vulnerability and desperation reminds us that Harry is just a boy, really – a boy in a scary, volatile world with an immense burden to bear.
Tension arises between him and the people he trusts, leaving the boy wizard even more vulnerable. The first few pages of the chapter Kreacher’s Tale are particularly touching, juxtaposing Harry’s loneliness with the warmth he feels when he comes across a certain letter from his dead godfather, Sirius.
The discord that has taken root in the wizarding world suggests the precarious condition of our own. Fused into the storyline over the seven books are underlying issues that are present in the realm of mankind. Racial conflict between goblins and wizards is an allusion to discrimination in human society, while the Death Eater-controlled Ministry of Magic’s mission to filter out Muggle-borns from the wizarding world reminds one of the Holocaust.
Dealing with these issues is part of the book’s appeal, as well as the diverse cast of characters. They’re flawed but genuine, showing us how shortcomings make us all the more human.
Rowling’s writing has sometimes come under criticism, but it’s hard to deny the sheer scope of her imagination. I mean, who else can you depend on to invent things like Nosebleed Nougat and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks?
Look past the merchandise, the parodies and the eye-rolling of non-fans who chant, “Yee, you like Harry Potter? So unoriginal!”, and you will find the core of the saga: a story; a bewitching yarn that has enchanted millions.
On my 10th birthday, I received Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone from my parents. This was penned on the title page:
“For sweet Soraya, who turns 10 today;
“May you have magic every step of the way.”
It’s been eight years since then, and it feels like I’ve grown up with The Boy Who Lived. There’s been more than magic every step of the way – there’s been emotion and frustration, elation and loss. After reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, I wondered, “Whatever will we do without Harry Potter?”
Now that his story has ended, and the characters will, over time, fade like ghosts into literary history, the question is more poignant than ever before.
Related Stories:
Harry Potter and the five reviewers
Will there be more?
What a hollow ending
Rowling recovers
Humanity in all its grisly glory
