So if you’re part of the western world, you may not know who Karl Rove is but you damn sure know that the latest Harry Potter book has been released.
I’ve not read it yet and when last I checked, the reserve I’d placed at our local library had me 114th in line to get it, so I don’t really anticipate getting the chance to read it anytime soon. That’s okay, I read each of the others long, long after they came out. I’ve never minded being behind the times. Which is probably good, as I suspect I have little choice in the matter, generally.
This, then, is not a post about the latest Harry Potter book. No, it’s a post about the Harry Potter series in general, focussing mainly on the first one because I just read it out loud to Max, which means I’ve now read that one three times, I think, the second and third ones twice each and the fourth and fifth books each only once, the poor neglected dears.
That will tell you that I’ve not studied the series as assiduously as oh so many, but on the other hand, I’ve certainly a pretty fair acquaintance with the works in general, no? Yes.
And what I’ve decided is that J.K.Rowling is one of the great storytellers of our time, able to spin a tale wonderfully, keep multiple plots in the air successfully, create interesting characters and worlds and situations. What’s she’s not, however, is a great writer, the way J.R.R.Tolkein, for instance, or Charles Dickens or Mark Twain or Willa Cather or Fred Chappell are; every one of them are both outstanding storytellers AND magnificent writers, whose language glows like burning coal, to borrow The Bard’s words. Rowling’s prose is never more than pedestrian. And that’s okay—Stephen King is one of my very favorite writers and he’s the same way: a phenomenal storyteller but a journeyman when it comes to the actual language.
King and Rowling get tossed together a fair amount of the time, and that’s not entirely unapt, for the very reason I just mentioned, and King has reviewed the last several Harry Potter books for the New York Times, I believe, praising her considerably each time. There’s at least one other factor, however, which bears looking into. It’s the problem I have with the Harry Potter books and, interestingly, it’s not a problem King himself exhibits in his own writing, so I find it odd that he seems to have no problem with the lapse in others.
It is indeed a wonderful thing that, as you hear again and again and again, the hottest thing in the land is a book for children. Would that this were the case more often. But therein lies the very basic but real problem with the Harry Potter books. They are books written for children, marketed for children and starring children who are really pretty terrible role models.
Harry is intelligent and brave and funny and charming. He is also, apparently, a firm believer in Machiavelli’s principles. Harry, more than almost any "hero" I’ve ever encountered in fiction, embodies the phrase "the end justifies the means."
Harry and his friends are constantly fighting evil in various forms. Unfortunately, in order for good to triumph over evil, Harry and his friends steal and cheat and lie. Even more unfortunately, they are not the only ones.
In the very first book, Professor McGonagall, known to be the most upright and by-the-book teacher in the school, not only allows Harry to get away with breaking the strict rule against first-year students flying when they’re not allowed to; incredibly, she further breaks the rules herself (actually getting permission to do so from the headmaster) in order to help her house win the Quidditch trophy. Moreover, she goes out and acquires for Harry the absolute top-of-the-line model broom to further tip the scales in her favor. And this is the by-the-book professor? It’s made clear that it’s all right for her to do so because she REALLY wants to win the cup. Oh, well, then. When you put it THAT way…
Compare the readability of the Harry Potter books to pretty much anything in literature and they hold their own. They are definite page-turners, and the characters are utterly believable—no mean feat in the fantasy genre. But a hero who will do anything to win? An anti-hero, perhaps, but that’s not a true hero in my book. And it’s not what I would think of as being appropriate for young children—and young children are reading these books. In fact, they’re not just reading these books, they’re having these books handed to them, encouraged to read them, egged on, with the clear implication that there’s nothing wrong with them. And while an amazing number of adults have also read at least one or two of the books, I’ve encountered few who have sat down with their children and discussed the moral problems with the novels.
You can compare Harry to Frodo or Gandalf or Bilbo or any of the heroes from the Narnia books or, to switch media, Luke Skywalker or even, say, Superman. Superman could win every single conflict by simply killing his foe, but he (and his writers) understand that that’s not how it works. The hero wins by being more morally upright and intelligent and self-sacrificing than the villain. Luke Skywalker, in "The Return of the Jedi," refuses to kill the evil Emperor, as he knows that by doing so he will have turned to the Dark Side and evil will have won. His nobility and purity, in fact, inspires Darth Vader, his father, to turn away from the Dark Side and conquer evil. Now that’s heroism (even if it’s not necessarily appropriate for young children), while still solidly inside the fantasy realm, complete with magic and all.
Don’t get me wrong—I love the concept of the anti-hero. The original "Dirty Harry" film, although some of its cuts are amazingly slow by today’s standards, is still a wonderful movie, as are most of Martin Scorsese’s, to use two prominent examples. The heroes in the brilliant graphic novel "Watchmen" also spring to mind. But that doesn’t mean that I want my very young daughters to be seeing or reading them anytime soon. I do hope they read and see each and every one of them and can’t wait to discuss the works at great length—but not yet.
It is unfortunate that the only criticism anyone has seemed to level at the books focuses on the magical aspect, a criticism which I find ludicrous. Magic is staple of fantasy and fairy-tales. Live with it. All the harping on the magical elements does is to distract from the true flaws of the books and make those who would criticize them seem like nutjobs.
Actually, there’s one other criticism of Rowling that gets bandied about freely and that’s that she has cribbed rather generously from her predecessors. Not that this bothers me, either; after all, following Eliot’s lead, Rowling is stealing quite well from the best, and the final result is very well done. It’s the fact that these books are being read to and by children who are too young to understand some of the implications, and the media, while justifiably hailing the enjoyability of the books, are either ignorant of or just plain ignoring their flaws.
At least once in each of the first three books, Dumbledore, who has certainly proved himself imminently trustworthy, looks Harry in the eye and asks him if he needs any help. And each time, Harry lies and says he doesn’t. Why? Because kids, in popular children’s books, I guess, aren’t supposed to trust even completely trustworthy adults (not to mention that it would shorten the book considerably, but again, if that’s the only reason, then that’s a basic flaw in the writing). I’d hoped that in the fourth book Harry would have learned from his past mistakes. No such luck. Maybe the fifth time’s the charm? Um…no. Well, sixth time pays for all, they say. I think.
But wait! That’s not all! We actually learn at the end of the first book that Dumbledore arranged things so they would only work out for the best if—are you ready for this one?—Harry broke the rules. The greatest magician in the land, the powerful and wise and kind hero, actually encouraged Harry to lie and cheat and steal.
This in the most popular fiction for children perhaps ever.
What the hell kind of message does that send?
And, you know, it’s actually a really intriguing situation, one that could be thought-provoking. Invaluable, really. Only it’s not. It’s never brought up. No one in the book ever steps back and says, hey, hold on a moment. That’s…that’s just wrong. In fact, that’s really quite ludicrous. Did I just understand you right?
No, in the book whatever Harry and/or Dumbledore is, de facto, right. And whatever Voldemort does is, de facto, wrong. Even when they’re doing the exact same thing. Harry lying? Right. Voldemort lying. Wrong! Why? It’s an intriguing question. So let’s investigate it, twist it around, check it out from different angles, see what we can find.
But no. It’s never addressed. It’s just a given that the heroes are always correct, even when they’re not, and the villains are always wrong, even when they’re doing the exact same things.
So. We have a book where the adults are either stupid or evil or at the very least not to be trusted. The elite in the book—that is, all the magical people—fairly openly disdain all the Muggles, an attitude which is also pretty disturbing, although the author glosses over that by making virtually all the Muggles stupid and/or evil themselves. (Hermione’s parents are the only ones I can think of who don’t quite fit this description, and they’re barely in the books at all.) And, of course, the heroes of the book break pretty much every rule without consequence.
Now, breaking rules is no big deal, per se, as long as there is a consequence attached. You sneak out, you get caught, you get punished. That’s life. You run the red light, you get caught, you get punished. But Harry virtually never gets punished. Yes, there are a few exceptions, but they are comparatively minor. And here’s the thing: the rules he’s breaking aren’t arbitrary and foolish; this isn’t your basic civil disobedience here or minor schoolboy pranks. The rules are there for one very good reason: to keep the children from being killed. Yet time and again, Harry breaks the rules and, frequently, almost gets killed, or worse, almost gets someone else killed...and gets away with it because he’s such a skilled liar or because he’s Harry Potter and he gets special dispensation.
Don’t get me wrong. As I’ve stated before and as I must emphasize, I enjoyed the bejeebers out of the first five books and look forward to the new one. And I don’t think it should come with a warning label attached—I’m an ardent foe of censorship in all its various forms. (I think the labeling of records which started back in the late eighties was an abhorrent practice based on racism and classism and which has been one of the most effective forms of censorship in this country in the past several decades...and I don’t mean that in a positive light.) I think it’s mainly the duty of parents to think about these things and discuss the books with their kids, rather than blithely (as many parents I know have done) slap the books in the hands of their very young children, some as young as seven.
But I also think it would help if the most intelligent and widely read critics in the mainstream media brought up these legitimate flaws rather than either lauding them wholesale or focusing on the hysterical charges of occultism. Again, I cannot stress strongly enough that I have enjoyed the books and that the witchcraft angle doesn’t bother me in the least; it’s part of a long and noble history in children’s literature. What bothers me is the fact that the hero is a charming boy who lies and cheats and gets away with it.
One of the finest examples comes at the climax of the first book, when Harry lies about what he sees in the mirror in order to prevent Quirrell from getting the Sorcerer’s Stone: that lie is not presented as the difficult moral dilemma it might have been. Hmm, he might have at least pondered for a moment, I must do something wrong—lie—in order to do the right thing—keep this guy who wants to destroy the world from getting a tool which will enable him to do so. Well, lying may be wrong but him getting the Stone would be far worse for everyone, so I shall do this thing.
But it’s not presented that way in the slightest. Harry doesn’t hesitate to simply lie—and why should he? He’s been doing it throughout the book, why’s it going to cause him any moral anguish now? No, it is instead simply a clever strategy, and Harry suffers not the slightest pang of conscience over the lie.
Adults, one hopes, can recognize this for the flaw that it is (although again, I have not seen any mention of this kind of concern in a mainstream review). Perhaps some teenagers can discern the flawed nature of Harry’s actions as well. Max, for instance, actually gasped and buried her head when it came to one of Harry’s earlier transgressions and became increasingly distressed with each further moral lapse, sure that they were accruing and that his eventual comeuppance would be more severe and unpleasant indeed. Ah, the faith of a child.
So certainly the flaws could provide fodder for useful discussion about difficult choices—as I said, Max and Top Management and I had a very long and involved one. And one of the things we talked about was, for instance, Anne Frank. The people hiding young Anne may have had to lie to the authorities or even friends and family members on occasion, in order to protect the lives of Anne and her family. Was it wrong to do that? I think most ethicists would tell you that, no, of course that was the right thing to do—I’m neither an ethicist nor someone who plays an ethicist on television but certainly I would have said without question it was the right thing to do, and I hope I would have had the courage to do just that and further hope I never have to find out if I’ve got that kind of courage or not. But in the end, it’s still a question that’s worth exploring, rather than just shoving out of the way and pretending it doesn’t exist.
But as for the many, many young children who are reading or listening to these books—how many of them are able to understand that it’s not necessarily okay to do as Harry does? How many of their parents are raising the question? Or even aware that the books have those questions but never address them?
I don’t think, by the way, that any of this is intentional on Rowling’s part; I don’t believe she engineered the first novel, for instance, so the climax turns on a lie, thus putting her hero to the test and then having him ignore the moral question involved. Rather, I think she gets understandably caught up in the telling of a story, a story that’s clearly burning to get out. But I have to wonder what she would think if her own daughter began telling lies simply to further serve her own ends, no matter how reasonable those ends may seem. It just seems as though Rowling hasn’t really sat down and truly thought things out.
Whenever I’ve brought any of this up in the past, people tend to get very defensive. Many of them fall back on the lame response that it’s just so great that kids are reading anything at all, to which I normally respond that I’ll bet them a hundred bucks I can get absolutely any boy in the United States who’s at least ten years old or older to read for hours a day if that’s their only criteria. As they quickly learn that I’ll simply hand the kid a copy of Penthouse Forum and immediately realize I’ll win the bet every single time, no one has yet to take me up on the offer, which is a good thing, as I don’t feel like going to jail, even for a hundred whole dollars. But overstated as my ridiculous example is, it’s still valid: is reading truly so all-fired important that we’ll allow our kids to read anything just so long as they’re reading? I certainly hope not, and I say that as one who loves to read and in fact makes his meager living as a professional writer.
There are other problems with the books. Rowling improved as a writer as the series went on, but she also got more ambitious. This isn’t normally a bad thing, but in her case it means the books got longer and longer with more and more subplots and details which easily could have been omitted—and in storytelling, if it CAN be omitted, it SHOULD be. But what editor or publisher is going to tell Rowling to cut a scene she likes? A soon-to-be-unemployed editor or publisher, that’s who. Book Number Five in particular could have lost almost all of the first one hundred and twenty pages. It’s not that they were bad, by any means, in and of themselves. They just were unnecessary. Furthermore, she made absolutely no effort to bring any new readers up to speed; it was assumed you’d not only read the previous books but had re-read them recently enough to be familiar, with no need to recap at all. And while that may be true for the majority of readers, it certainly wasn’t the case with at least three I spoke to (and I’m only one of the three in this instance).
What’s more, the books have grown increasingly dark in tone—and they didn’t exactly start out all peaches and cream. The scenes with the Dursleys seem gratuitously nasty, those screaming plants are incredibly disturbing and the climactic scene in the maze in Book Four is not only terrifically dark, it also makes absolutely no sense from a structural point-of-view; in fact, to digress for a moment (who, me? This piece has been so concise up this point!) it’s a massive story flaw.
So Harry’s competing against other students in a variety of events. It comes down to him and one other student, a really good guy, finding their way through a maze as quickly as possible. They get to the trophy at the center at just the same moment and, both trying to do the right thing and be the very epitome of good sportsmanship, they agree to both grab the trophy at the exact same time. The result is that Harry’s fellow student is transported, along with Harry, to a trap Voldemort has set up and the nice kid is killed immediately.
Once again, what the hell kind of message does that send? And I don’t just mean for children’s literature. Since the time of the ancient Greeks, fiction has been set up in certain ways: you do something good, you will get rewarded. You do something bad, you will get punished. And there are obviously oodles and boodles of exceptions—but that’s just the point. Their very power comes from the fact that we know that they’re exceptions to the rule.
But not here—that’s not the point. The entire point here is that it was simply a shocking twist to the plot. That’s all, no bigger or better or more valid justification. It’s just a cheap, meaningless trick that lessens the novel and weakens the entire world in which it’s set. And it, like the lie Harry is forced to tell at the end of Book One, is really nothing more than shoddy plotting and lazy writing. And from a storyteller as skilled as Rowling, that’s inexcusable.
Okay. There’s one other problem and on this one I completely feel for Rowling (assuming she’s the slightest bit bothered by this eventuality). With each book her characters get a year older. And she’s said for some time that they’ll be exploring their sexuality, as teenagers indeed tend to do (with the obvious exception of me and the saintly Top Management, of course). I can understand her wanting to do that and, in fact, it would be unrealistic and a missed opportunity not to have her characters grow as they age and to explore their changes, physical and emotional and mental and spiritual. The problem is that while Rowling’s initial readers are growing just as Harry and his pals are, Rowling is picking up new readers all the time. So the kids who were, say, eight when the first book was published are now sixteen. Fine. But there are eight year olds picking up that first book even as we speak (or, as I type and now you read…if there’s anyone still with me by now). And they’re not going to wait eight years to read Book Six. They’re going to go right from the first to the second and on to the sixth. And Rowling herself has hinted in interviews I’ve read that Book Six won’t be appropriate for an eight-year-old. Its protagonist will be sixteen years old and it’s not surprising that a book with a sixteen-year-old protagonist might be inappropriate for an eight-year-old. Yet it’s not surprising than an eight-year-old, after reading the first one (which parents mistakenly think is just fine for any eight-year-old), will want to go on to the next and the next and the next. So it’s a real quandary for the writer. But it’s not one she seems interested in addressing, and it’s not one that’s being brought up anywhere I’ve seen.
In the end, I think Rowling’s books are quite enjoyable. I wish they weren’t lauded as The Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread as I firmly suspect that fifty years from now folks will still be reading The Lord of the Rings and the Chronicles of Narnia while the Harry Potter books will be fondly remembered but never placed alongside those true classics. As possible evidence to support my stance, I offer Judy Blume, who was the Rowling of her day, a guaranteed blockbuster every time out and now largely unknown to those younger than twenty-five. It happens. But quality will always out in the end. And maybe Rowling will prove me wrong with this latest book and fix the myriad flaws to be found in her earlier works whilst retaining their myriad charms. One can always hope.
In the meantime, enjoy the books, read them with your kids…but talk about them afterwards and explore together some of the moral problems they contain. There are real joys to be found in these novels, but real problems as well. Here there be dragons—but they’re dragons which can be defeated, if you’re just willing to take the time. It will be far from the most unpleasant battle you’ve ever encountered. But it’s not one to be avoided either.
UPDATE: It's been almost seven months since I wrote this piece. Given my job and the currently rather ubiquitous presence of Harry Potter in our society, it’s perhaps not surprising that I found myself returning to the topic two other times.
You can read those snarkfests here and here. There are also quite a few responses in the comments section which explore many of my objections in significantly more depth.
Wish I had more time to reply. I agree with your assessment of Rowling as a writer. Brilliant storyteller in need of an editor. She uses language cleverly but not beautifully. She is empathetic (able to invest her characters with believability and relaism) but is not insightful.
The point you bring up as the chief criticism is not unknown to me. It has been the primary discussion point of the more "enlightened" homeschool crowd who are unwilling to dismiss the books simply based on the magical elements yet who oppose HP as a role model.
I've been in numerous discussions about this point so let me give you a summary of why I don't hold to the "bad role models" assessment.
Without pulling the copies of the books from the shelves to validate my points, let me sum up. I see Harry, Ron and Hermoine (Dumbledore and more) in continuous struggles to see beyond the surface of what passes for ethical behavior and are being challenged to act on behalf of the greater right/good. I know this kind of thinking can lead to the justification of fascism and machiaveliian control, but I don't believe Rowling has gone there.
I see her as showing the growth of a young (immature) person's ethics in the midst of unusually dangerous times (with unreasonably large responsibilities and no genuine guidance or sympathy from family).
When Harry rode off on the broomstick (in book one), he did so to stop Malfoy from being cruel to Neville (having taken N's remembral).
HP, having come from a home where he was the victim repeatedly of cruelty and mistreatment, reacted perhaps immaturely (not thinking ahead to possible danger to himself) yet with strong "other-centered" conviction. His actions were not held accountable (perhaps, as you say, because of the demands of the plot more than an exploration of the ethics) but perhaps also because what he did came from a motivation of superior value. In this wizarding world, there is a clear clash of good and evil, but the good and evil themselves are not clearly distinct from each other.
In other words, the methods and manners of both sides often appear similar (how true is that in our world where we react in horror to terrorist bombings but are hardly bothered by AIDS in Africa, where we kill thousands of Iraqis and think little of it because the "ends justifies the means")...
The way we sort out our actions is based on the hierarchy of values we determine from within our culture and worldview. That's how it's done (even for those who claim divine guidance and authority).
The goal in ethics is to operate within a heirarchy of values. What I object to strenuously in my fundamentalist Christian background is the reduction of complex ethical dilemmas to "never lying" or "never breaking rules" or "always obeying authorities."
What if we framed the discussion from a different ethical orientation: how does what I'm about to do impact the well-being of others? How does it protect or enhance life for me and others? How does it promote the flourishing of others? Never lying is not as important as protecting others from danger, violence, mistreatment or cruelty. (I know I'm being reductionistic, but I'm jet lagged and this is a comment box, not an entire blog ).
When I read the Potter books, what strikes me is how truly human these characters are. They aren't pretending to have more virtue than most kids have. Yet they find themselves acting with bravery, loyalty, conviction for good and selflessness again and again in spite of their immaturity (mixed in with selfishness, boredom, pettiness, disrespect for the rules and distrust alternating with trust for authorities). To me, these characters ring true and that means I can think about their choices because I'm not being preached to.
They are models of the development of discernment rather than flat characters (to use Forster's definition) who operate in a one dimensional, moralizing way.
When I think of Frodo, part of his appeal was that the ring began to have power in his life, to the point of permanent damage! He did not just make good decisions all along. He was vulnerable and strong, morally upright and fully capable of being deceived... just like us.
It may be that not enough HP readers are seizing the opportunity to take the Potter books in that kind of introspective direction. But then, maybe not.
I have a hunch that these realizations (that morally demanding times demand mad ethical skills) may be within the psyches of the readers, but the fruit may be "a long time coming."
Julie
Posted by: Julie | Tuesday, July 19, 2005 at 03:14 PM
Okay, lotta stuff here. I’m going to go through your outstanding comments point-by-point, Julie. You’ll be in italics, because you’re special. :)
I see Harry, Ron and Hermoine (Dumbledore and more) in continuous struggles to see beyond the surface of what passes for ethical behavior and are being challenged to act on behalf of the greater right/good.
Wow. Well. That would indeed change my view of the novels were it true. Would that it were. Alas it is not. :)
I know this kind of thinking can lead to the justification of fascism and machiaveliian control, but I don't believe Rowling has gone there.
I agree it can and I agree it hasn’t in this case—because it hasn’t occurred to her to do so. I don’t think it has ever crossed her mind for a moment. You are giving Rowling far, far more credit than her first five novels indicate she deserves.
I see her as showing the growth of a young (immature) person's ethics in the midst of unusually dangerous times (with unreasonably large responsibilities and no genuine guidance or sympathy from family).
The families of Ron and Hermione are shown to be tremendously loving and nuturing ones and while Hermione’s family might not be able to give her much specific advice—although who the hell knows, since she’s never asked them—Ron’s certainly could. But, again, of course, he never actually checks with them, does he?
As for Harry’s family, no, of course he’ll be getting no help there. But Dumbledore is a clear father/grandfather figure and, as I said, not only does Harry not go to him for help, he refuses it time and again when Dumbledore offers. I mean, why would he? He’s only the most powerful and good wizard in the world, and he’s been keeping an eye on Harry—leapin’ lizards, no, Harry wouldn’t go ask his advice. Heavens to mergatroid. In Books Two and Three Dumbledore asks him point blank if he needs help, and Harry, who desperately does, looks him in the eye and lies. Rowling could have just made Dumbledore NOT offer help. Or Harry could later think about how maybe it would have been a good idea to confide in Dumbledore after all. But he never even gives it so much as a thought, and that’s the thing that bothers me. It’s the quiet, beneath-notice suggestion that kids should tough out their problems on their own, turning only to other kids (Hagrid counts as a big kid) for help. Again, do I think this was thought-out on Rowling’s part? I do not. I think it was completely thoughtless, the kind of clichéd plotting that all the worst (and by that I mean poorly-written) kinds of YA novels have, and it’s disappointing to see Rowling falling into the exact same trap. It’s lazy and, because of the way these books have been held up as fine examples of morality, it’s also disturbing.
When Harry rode off on the broomstick (in book one), he did so to stop Malfoy from being cruel to Neville (having taken N's remembral). HP, having come from a home where he was the victim repeatedly of cruelty and mistreatment, reacted perhaps immaturely (not thinking ahead to possible danger to himself) yet with strong "other-centered" conviction. His actions were not held accountable (perhaps, as you say, because of the demands of the plot more than an exploration of the ethics) but perhaps also because what he did came from a motivation of superior value. In this wizarding world, there is a clear clash of good and evil, but the good and evil themselves are not clearly distinct from each other.
Sure, Harry acted heroically on behalf of his friend. But regardless of his intent, he was not held accountable NOT because Professor McGonagall saw his cause was righteous (there is not the tiniest hint in the text that McGonagall breaks the rules because Harry’s intent was good), but because *she herself was corrupted by her desire to win.*
Go back and re-read that passage—not an unpleasant thing to do, right? I just did and it was really quite enjoyable, as always. Okay. So, now that you’ve done that, you’ll have seen that it’s obvious that not only did McGonagall not see Malfoy steal the ball from Neville, she didn’t even see Malfoy in the air—he was able to get down to the ground before she came on the scene. So she wasn’t choosing The Good Guy over The Bad Guy—which in and of itself would have been wrong for a supposedly neutral teacher to have done; after all, if there’s a hope of keeping the kids like Malfoy from going over irrevocably to The Dark Side, having a neutral teacher automatically takes sides against you *when you’ve only been in school for less than two weeks* would be exactly the wrong thing to do.
But no, the only thing McGonagall saw was Harry flying when she knew he wasn’t allowed to. BUT HE WAS REALLY REALLY GOOD AT IT. And so she rewards him for his transgression, even getting special dispensation to break the rules from Dumbledore. And she specifically says, "I better hear that you’re practicing hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you."
Bam! Right there, it’s clear she knows he should be punished, but she won’t, so long as he helps her house win the cup since, as she says, the previous year she couldn’t look Severus Snape in the face for a month after his house won it.
Even McGonagall, the most morally-upright character in the entire series, is shown from the first to be just as twisted as all the rest when it comes to her own wants. Fortunately, her wants, for the overwhelming part, are in the service of good. Otherwise…
Another flaw that I somehow forgot to put in the main piece was regarding when Ron and Harry go to save Hermione from the troll. Remember that? Hermione’s all upset, so she goes off to the bathroom to cry. Then all the kids get evacuated from the dining hall because it’s discovered that there’s a rampaging troll. Ron and Harry realize, however, that the troll is where Hermione is and as all the teachers are occupied elsewhere and can’t help her, they go to save Hermione themselves.
All’s good so far, right? No one’s done anything wrong and, in fact, Harry and Ron have acted absolutely unambiguously as heroes. Then the three friends courageously team up to do the impossible and defeat a full-grown troll, a task which, it’s made clear, is truly amazing. Rock on, my young friends! Rock on.
But wait! Professor McGonagall then enters and immediately freaks out, realizing they could have been killed—in fact, that was the almost certain outcome. But no sweat, right? I mean, all they need to do is explain what happened. Not only did none of the three do a single thing wrong, they all acted in a most exemplary way. So they’ll just explain that to her. Right?
Not a chance.
What happens instead is that Hermione LIES. For absolutely no reason.
The truth would have set them free quite nicely. But no. Instead good-little-girl, by-the-book Hermione lies and says she went to take on the troll by herself, and Harry and Ron, knowing that must be what she’d done, had to come and save her bacon. Hermione is reprimanded, and Harry and Ron grudgingly praised and warned never to do it again. And ever after that, she’s in like Flynn with the boys. Because she too is now of those kids who lies to a teacher. For no reason. She gives the finger to The Man, so she can now be part of The Club.
In other words, the methods and manners of both sides often appear similar (how true is that in our world where we react in horror to terrorist bombings but are hardly bothered by AIDS in Africa, where we kill thousands of Iraqis and think little of it because the "ends justifies the means")...
Yes. Yes! Absolutely. And that would make a fascinating book, exploring that very question. But that’s not this book, nor is it any of the Harry Potter books.
*And that’s just fine.* There’s a place in this world for pulp fiction, for simple potboilers. I love that stuff. That’s what the Harry Potter books are, and they’re swell examples of it. The problem is that they’ve been turned into this paradigm of "good versus evil" and they’re really not. I don’t believe for a moment Rowling intended them to be considered that way, but she got caught up in the hoopla and went along with the folks who want to view them in that light. They’re great pulp. They’re terrible theology or philosophy. A frozen pizza isn’t a filet mignon and if you try to make it so, you’re not only going to not end up with filet mignon, you’re gonna ruin your pizza. And the thing is, I love frozen pizza and I don’t care for filet mignon, so this isn’t a value judgement. What it is is a statement condemning trying to force one thing to be another rather than letting it be what it is.
The goal in ethics is to operate within a heirarchy of values. What I object to strenuously in my fundamentalist Christian background is the reduction of complex ethical dilemmas to "never lying" or "never breaking rules" or "always obeying authorities."
Which is funny since, if I’m not mistaken (and when it comes to knowledge of Christianity, I frequently am), my boy JC broke the rules (healing on the Sabbath) and didn’t always obey authorities (causing them to eventually nail him to a chunk of wood). Somewhat ironic, eh wot?
What if we framed the discussion from a different ethical orientation: how does what I'm about to do impact the well-being of others? How does it protect or enhance life for me and others? How does it promote the flourishing of others? Never lying is not as important as protecting others from danger, violence, mistreatment or cruelty. (I know I'm being reductionistic, but I'm jet lagged and this is a comment box, not an entire blog ).
Ah, but Julie, as you said, perhaps it’s because you’re jetlagged or maybe it’s because you’ve had these discussions with others, but you’re responding to me by refuting statements I never made and attributing to me attitudes I don’t possess. Not only did I not say that lying is always wrong, I specifically stated that that’s NOT the case.
BUT. In our society—and, I think, the world at large—lying is considered to be a no-no. Yes, there are times and places and cases where not only can an exception be made, but in fact, one perhaps MUST be made. But the point is that *those cases are the exception.*
But that’s not how it is in the Harry Potter books. There’s never the slightest indication that lying is wrong, or that it might be wrong normally but here’s a case where it’s fine. No. There it’s simply the norm.
Look, to turn even more serious for a moment, I believe all the world’s major religions recognize that it’s wrong for one person to take another person’s life, but that there are times when it’s not only acceptable but, indeed, imperative to do so. But to have a children’s novel where killing is treated not as either absolutely morally wrong nor a morally difficult choice but rather as a simple matter of course would be absurd and tremendously disturbing. Is lying as bad as killing? Is it moral relativism if I say of course not? But our entire legal system would fall apart instantly if it weren’t for the fact that it’s based on the notion that people in court MUST tell the truth. Lying is not a trivial matter. Except, of course, in the Harry Potter books.
And, again, here’s the thing: exploring EXACTLY those questions would make for a kickass book, as I mentioned in the main piece. If someone in Harry’s world would ever, just once, question whether it’s possible for a hero to do wrong even when he’s fighting evil, that’d make all the difference. If Harry paused for just a moment and said, hmm…lying’s wrong but it’ll save the world so, oh, well, here goes! that’d make a huge difference. But he never, ever does. No one does. The heroes and the villains act the same and no one ever questions that.
When I read the Potter books, what strikes me is how truly human these characters are. They aren't pretending to have more virtue than most kids have.
AH! You’re right, they’re not. But every person in that world treats Harry as a hero (unless they’re one of the ones trying to kill him, of course). So it doesn’t matter if Harry thinks he’s a hero or pretends to be a hero. The point is that the books are written in such a way that Harry is presented as a hero and that’s the clear impression the reader is supposed to walk away with.
To me, these characters ring true and that means I can think about their choices because I'm not being preached to.
When I think of Frodo, part of his appeal was that the ring began to have power in his life, to the point of permanent damage! He did not just make good decisions all along. He was vulnerable and strong, morally upright and fully capable of being deceived... just like us.
Okay, so did you feel like you were being preached to in The Lord of the Rings books? Because Frodo, as you say, made mistakes—and he paid for those mistakes. A hero doesn’t have to be perfect—in fact, if a hero’s perfect, well, that’s one boring-ass story, innit? No, a hero, like all characters, must be flawed for the story to breathe. I’m not suggesting Harry should be perfect—in fact, I’d hoped I’d made that quite clear.
Think of Edmund in The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. My God, you want flawed? He betrayed his own family! Turned them over to a witch! And he even admits that in his heart of hearts he knew what he was doing as he was doing it and knew how wrong it was…and he did it anyway. And, of course, because it’s a good story—scratch that, make it simply: because it’s a story—there were consequences.
Julie, I admire your ability to put up an admirable defense of these books, and your arguments are quite compelling. But you’re doing it by reading things into the books which aren’t actually there. As you said yourself, Rowling is not insightful, but you are, and that’s leading you to see things in these novels which don’t exist.
I love Barry Manilow—no kidding, I do. But if I claim his songs have deep metaphysical insights, that’s me, not his music. (Unless you believe there are no such things as deep metaphysical insights in actuality but it’s all in the eye of the beholder anyway in which case never mind this analogy.)
The Harry Potter books are tremendously enjoyable. But they’re not deep, they’re not morally complex, they’re just morally flawed rollercoaster rides which have been held up as a signpost for our troubled times. They’re not—they’re just a pleasant and fleeting diversion from them.
Posted by: Scott | Wednesday, July 20, 2005 at 08:25 AM
Good rebuttal.
I see what you are driving at - that Rowling uses gratuituous lying in her novels for the purposes of a driving plot rather than digging deeper into the ethical questions those actions raise. That is a fair criticism, I think. (And I think you are right about not digging deeper into the problem of plot development. I find it frustrating when a main character must solve his or her own problems but does so by not talking to the key character that could help for most of the book. That does feel forced.)
I remember the troll incident and being mystified by the fact that the kids didn't come clean, too.
I also have found Dumbledore's behavior disturbing repeatedly (he and Hagrid have both been responsible for endangering Harry and other students by their lack of action or overt actions... and they are not held accountable). So I'm with you there too.
I meant to agree with you about the end of the Tri-Wizard tournament. We discussed with our kids the lack of consequences to the school for creating such a dangerous event and the strange acquiesence of the parents.
So perhaps what you are arguing is that Rowling is not conscious of the implications of her choices that advance her plot... she puts the clever storyline ahead of greater character development and introspection, ahead of telling the truth and a troubled conscience that would guide ethical decisions. Would that sum up your point of view?
If so, I can see it.
Gotta go take a nap.
:) Julie
Posted by: Julie | Wednesday, July 20, 2005 at 12:38 PM
Sick of me yet?
While my 18 year old son changed his dead battery in the Barnes and Noble parking lot, we hashed through your point of view re: HP books. He is an avid fan so I thought his perspective might be worth exploring.
He feels that what Rowling does well is to show us how teens operate in oppressive environments (or at the least, extremely controlled environments). He told me that his two years of part-time enrollment in public school showed him that teens universally resent being controlled, lie to create bonds with each other and to resist those in authority over them (even nice authorities), that the authorities who are "good" still manage to exude self-interest and a lack of true understanding of what it means to be a teen and an individual, and that most kids aren't thinking all that deeply about their moral choices.
For a kid to stand up for anyone is such an heroic move that it stands out even if it is done clumsily. In most cases, the person in question pays for that "mistake."
He went on to say that even among our Christian homeschooled friends, he couldn't think of any that he knows who have a problem with lying to their parents. He then said that he has always felt that our family is different because telling the truth is rewarded in our family, even when it is incriminatiing (and we give lots of space to be individuals... something we've had to learn the hard way I assure you). So to him, the books ring true - they show teens in solidarity with each other to the point of lying and breaking rules with a thread of distrust for authority even when it has shown itself to be trustworthy.
His point of view, then, is that Rowling understands teen culture and shows it accurately (whether or not we like the message it creates). He would agree with you, though, that the book lacks a deeper exploration of philosophical and ethical questions and thinks that is a weakness in the books. He prefers Orson Scott Card (Ender's Game Series) for that kind of introspective and insightful writing. :)
So between the two of you, my position has been modified some. I see the main characters as in a fight for good against evil and are often justified in their choices that overlook rules. On the other hand, when they tend toward plot-advancing gratuitious lying, Rowling weakens the power of her narrative and character development.
Okay, now I can go on with my day. Thanks for that detour. Btw, the next one (#6) is a much better read than the 4-5 books, though less action packed. I can sense her trying to beef up the characterizations and dare I suggest a bit more subtlety? Will let you know when I finish it.
Peace, Julie
Posted by: Julie | Thursday, July 21, 2005 at 06:37 AM
Good rebuttal.
Why, thank you. :) Coming from you that means a lot. Once again, you’re in italics because you’re the honored guest.
I also have found Dumbledore's behavior disturbing repeatedly (he and Hagrid have both been responsible for endangering Harry and other students by their lack of action or overt actions... and they are not held accountable). So I'm with you there too.
I also found, rereading the first book this most recent time, that the "detention" Harry, Malfoy and Neville receive is beyond absurd—they’re sent into The Forbidden Forest, the most dangerous place on the school grounds (the place they’ve all been told will result in instant expulsion, so dangerous is it) at night with only goodhearted but not-overly-bright Hagrid to watch over them. It’s a ludicrous bit of plotting.
So perhaps what you are arguing is that Rowling is not conscious of the implications of her choices that advance her plot... she puts the clever storyline ahead of greater character development and introspection, ahead of telling the truth and a troubled conscience that would guide ethical decisions. Would that sum up your point of view?
Almost perfectly, except I wouldn’t characterize it as "clever" if there are these gaping flaws in logic; I’d say instead "exciting." But otherwise, yup, that’s purty much it.
Gotta go take a nap.
Ooh…lucky duck…
But wait! Like Freddie Kruger, she just keeps poppin’ back up!
Sick of me yet?
Please! Perish the thought.
My 18 year old son [snip] feels that what Rowling does well is to show us how teens operate in oppressive environments (or at the least, extremely controlled environments). He told me that his two years of part-time enrollment in public school showed him that teens universally resent being controlled, lie to create bonds with each other and to resist those in authority over them (even nice authorities), that the authorities who are "good" still manage to exude self-interest and a lack of true understanding of what it means to be a teen and an individual, and that most kids aren't thinking all that deeply about their moral choices.
An interesting and valuable perspective. Okay, some thoughts. First:
teens universally resent being controlled
I think I would change "teens" to "people." They may go along with it, but the overwhelming majority of people still resent it. And those that don’t seem to probably just aren’t aware that they are being controlled. But that’s a rant for another time.
lie to create bonds with each other and to resist those in authority over them (even nice authorities)
Mmm…it’s clearly been a lot longer since I’ve been a teenager than since he’s been a teenager, since he’s still a teenager, but I think I’d disagree with that. Teens lie for the same reason pre-teens and post-teens lie: because it makes their lives easier, at least temporarily. They lie because they believe it will allow them to get what they want.
that the authorities who are "good" still manage to exude self-interest and a lack of true understanding of what it means to be a teen and an individual
How sad. He may be right, of course. But, to get to the book for a moment, I don’t believe that’s true of Dumbledore in these novels; in fact, I would argue that Rowling tries very hard to make it clear that it's not. And it’s not meant to be true of McGonagall, although it is.
and that most kids aren't thinking all that deeply about their moral choices.
Unfortunately, that’s true. And it goes for most people too, I’m afraid I believe.
For a kid to stand up for anyone is such an heroic move that it stands out even if it is done clumsily. In most cases, the person in question pays for that "mistake."
Okay, this brings us back, I think, to the scene where Harry rescues Neville’s Remembrall from Malfoy. I didn’t want to get into this yesterday as I feared it would distract us from the main discussion. But as here we are again, I shall now take this opportunity to say what I wanted to yesterday but in a rare moment of self-restraint did not.
Harry didn’t get the Remembrall back from Malfoy because he was sticking up for Neville. Or, yes, he was, in part. But that was no more than a part, and rereading it just now—the book’s open in front of me even as I type, to page 148 for quick reference—it’s clear to me that Harry acts as he does largely because he hates Malfoy. It’s almost that simple. Yes, he’s sticking up for his friend, Neville. But when Harry acts as he does, as the book itself says, he does so on impulse, driven by instant anger and with little forethought. Some excerpts:
Blood was pounding in his ears…and in a rush of fierce joy he realized he’d found something he could do without being taught—this was easy, this was wonderful. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron.
He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.
"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.
Harry acted immediately, without thinking, because the little bastard he already hated was doing something he didn’t like and he reacted. And when he did, Harry found he liked what he was doing. Which is fine—but, again, if he’s getting pleasure from what he’s doing, and he is, that makes it less heroic. Not wrong necessarily but less heroic. And finally, when the girls scream and Ron whoops, that just gives total validation to Harry’s actions, making them not unjust, but again, by the arguments presented, less heroic. If he’s doing something he loves and getting approving attention for it, it’s not heroic. I may not be interested in getting hammered by a 320 pound defensive tackle, but if I’m getting paid five million dollars a year to play a game I love and be cheered by a hundred thousand fans, I’m no hero. Doesn’t mean that a running back’s a bad guy, of course. But he’s not a hero just for being a running back.
Here’s what I get when I read this scene: to put it very bluntly, Harry wants, needs, to prove that his dick is just as big as Malfoy’s. Harry could never, ever stand up to his cousin, because Dudley was twice his size and even if Harry had ever been foolish enough to try to take him on, the Dursleys would have made his already miserable life that much worse. So he was helpless and there was nothing he could do about it. But where I disagree with your son’s really interesting take is in how all those past experiences then manifest themselves in this present situation. Yes, Harry wants to stand up for the underdog because he’d been the underdog. But had some kid from Hufflepuff grabbed the Remembrall, Harry would have just held out his hand and said, "Come on, give it here." And that would have been the end of it. Instead he instantly turns all Dirty Harry (so to speak):
"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.
Boom. He’s just raised the stakes and forced Malfoy’s hand; Malfoy is now utterly unable to back down, even if he wanted to (which he undoubtedly doesn’t, of course). And Harry may not know much about wizarding at this point, but he knows all about interpersonal relationships and how to defuse a situation and how to make a situation explode. Harry chose to confront Malfoy in such a way as to positively ensure an ugly confrontation. And he didn’t do it that way for Neville. He did it because Malfoy, like Dudley, is a complete jerk who desperately needs a good beating. But Malfoy, unlike Dudley, is also his own size. And it’s safe to take him on. And so he does. Which makes him a great character. But that action does not make a hero.
And by the by, I should emphasize that I don't believe Rowling meant for this scene to be analyzed line by line as she wrote it, so the very scrutiny we're putting it through is somewhat unfair but, again, is a result of how the books have come to be perceived.
He went on to say that even among our Christian homeschooled friends, he couldn't think of any that he knows who have a problem with lying to their parents.
I’m not entirely surprised to hear that, but I am sorry that’s the case.
So to him, the books ring true - they show teens in solidarity with each other to the point of lying and breaking rules with a thread of distrust for authority even when it has shown itself to be trustworthy.
His point of view, then, is that Rowling understands teen culture and shows it accurately (whether or not we like the message it creates).
But the point of this entire discussion isn’t that Rowling is or is not painting an accurate picture of how things are. The point is she’s being lauded for painting a picture *of how things should be.* I’m not quibbling with her accuracy. I’m not saying kids don’t lie or cheat or steal—hey, I personally did all three when I was a kid. I’m disturbed by her showing kids lying and cheating and stealing and presenting it with an air of heroism. And then that a book that does so is held up as a pinnacle of morality? THAT’s the problem.
He would agree with you, though, that the book lacks a deeper exploration of philosophical and ethical questions and thinks that is a weakness in the books.
I don’t mean to quibble—believe it or not, I really don’t—but I think you’ll understand my desire to avoid as much confusion on this topic as possible. I agree that the books lack a deep—or indeed any—exploration of philosophical and ethical questions. But that, in and of itself, isn’t exactly a problem as far as I’m concerned. The problem is that the books seem to raise those questions again and again but never come close to addressing them in even the most superficial way. And, again, the even bigger problem still isn’t necessarily with the books themselves; it’s with the way they’re viewed and presented.
He prefers Orson Scott Card (Ender's Game Series) for that kind of introspective and insightful writing. :)
I’ve read Ender’s Game four or five times. Phenomenal book. Gosh, I love that novel. As with so many sci-fi series, alas, the first one is brilliant, the second and third are really good and the last ones make me wish he’d stopped at the first. As always, of course, that’s just my opinion and your mileage may vary.
So between the two of you, my position has been modified some. I see the main characters as in a fight for good against evil and are often justified in their choices that overlook rules.
If I got a sense there was a choice involved at any point, I might agree with you. But "choice" implies reasoning and thought and I see no evidence of any of that here. Just good ol’ fashioned yarns and ripping good tales.
On the other hand, when they tend toward plot-advancing gratuitious lying, Rowling weakens the power of her narrative and character development.
Yes. And, again, none of that would bother me much if it weren’t for the incredible social phenomena these books have become, and if they weren’t being touted as the Moral Guideposts for our current times.
Okay, now I can go on with my day. Thanks for that detour. Btw, the next one (#6) is a much better read than the 4-5 books, though less action packed. I can sense her trying to beef up the characterizations and dare I suggest a bit more subtlety? Will let you know when I finish it.
I very much hope you find that your initial impressions turn to be correct.
Peace, Julie
Right back atcha. :)
Posted by: Scott | Thursday, July 21, 2005 at 10:59 AM
Scott---I agree, and would add the whole dimension of how Ron/Hermione/Harry treat the issue of cheating in their schoolwork. Obviously there is no Honor Code at Hogwarts.
Posted by: Steve the LLamabutcher | Friday, July 29, 2005 at 06:39 PM
Wow! Such an interesting post. I was a big fan of Harry's at first...but the love soon began to wear thin. You, however, brought up some points I hadn't considered before. If you're interested, I wrote about my own opinion here: http://themediansib.blogspot.com/2005/11/harry-potter-mania-ie-jk-rowling-would.html
Posted by: Carol | Monday, February 13, 2006 at 11:29 AM