Harry Potter turns 20 this year and 37
today.
That is, July 31 is the birthday of the
character and, in the book's chronology, he turns 37 in 2017. It's the year of the "19 years
later" epilogue, when his middle child, Albus Severus, goes to Hogwarts
for the first time.
The first book in the series, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone,
was released by Bloomsbury in the UK 20 years ago, in 1997. The Americanized version, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone,
was released the following year. I was
living in Edinburgh in 1997, spending the chilly days writing in a local café
that I later learned was the same one where JK Rowling had gone to write. I don't remember hearing about the book's
release at the time, nor do I recall much of the fanfare around the series when I
moved back to NYC in mid-2000.
The first movie was released in the autumn
of 2001, and that is when my own journey from platform 9 ¾ begins. My best friend (let's call her IKEA Girl,
because she is Swedish and it will annoy her) had urged me to read Harry Potter,
insisting that it would appeal to me.
But I'm neither a joiner nor a bandwagon jumper-on, and certainly not a
fan girl in any sphere. I maintained
stubbornly that if anything was really popular, it must cater to the lowest
common denominator, that it was self-evidently simplistic, low-brow, and
beneath my attention. I gravitated more
to art house films than blockbusters, to classical music rather than top 40
hits, and to Booker Prize-winning literary novels rather than airport pulp
fiction. In other words, I just couldn't
imagine that Harry Potter could be so popular and be any good.
Needless to say, that was about as accurate
as Fudge insisting that Voldemort wasn't back.
When IKEA Girl came to NYC for a visit in
late 2001, we went to see the first film, which had recently been released. I had no problem with that—I was intrigued
enough by her insistence that I would like it to be curious. Country Boy was less than enthusiastic about seeing
a children's fantasy film but he came along as well. He didn't emerge with any desire to delve
into the Potterverse, and IKEA Girl was disappointed, going on about how the
film wasn't as good as the book. Me,
well, I was smitten. I remember the exact
moment it happened: It was the scene
when the first year students are crossing the lake and they (we) get their
(our) first glimpse of Hogwarts castle.
My heart was aching; I've rarely been so moved by a scene in a
film. My mind was racing: This was me; I belonged in that world. Aesthetically, it was a perfect fit. How quickly could I get the books?
By that point, the first four books had
been released, and I immediately ordered them as a boxed set from Amazon
UK. I couldn't just run out and buy them
locally because I insisted on reading the British versions. On Xmas Day, Country Boy, my partner for over
seven years, left me. I had to deal with
the holidays, as well as the emotional fallout, and the abrupt doubling of my
living expenses. It was rough, to say
the least. But then the books arrived.
I dove in and haven't come up for air
since. I was enchanted (no pun intended)
to discover all of the things in the first book that had been left out or
changed in the film but I was disappointed that I didn't get to experience reading
it without knowing what was going to happen—my own fault, of course. I had been attending a weekly Irish trad seisiún at a pub
downtown and, since I could not put down the books, I brought them with
me. I sat in the pub with my pint of
cider and read in the dim light. I got a
lot of strange looks but didn't care. I
did nothing else until I had read all four books. I realise I must have gone to work, but I
have no recollection of doing anything but reading non-stop.
Then I had to wait two years for the fifth
book. That period was probably the
closest to a hiatus that I have taken from the Potterverse. I didn't know when the next book was going to
come out, and I also moved and started both graduate school and a new
relationship with City Boy. Those major
life changes provided distractions that got me through the waiting
period. I did search for Potter
information online and found The
Leaky Cauldron. As the Potter fandom
proliferated on the web, Leaky emerged from the crowd as the go-to site for
news, commentary, and discussion. It
developed quasi-official status when, in recognition of its quality and global
popularity, both the UK and U.S. publishers, and Warner Bros., began to give the
site's editors exclusive info, tickets to premieres, and merchandise for
giveaways. The senior editors created a
podcast, PotterCast, in 2005, that featured
news, discussion, speculation, contests, and interviews with the publishers of
the books, actors from the films, and even JK Rowling herself. Rowling recorded the podcast's intro, and even
invited the editors to her house where she, uh, baked them cookies. I am not even kidding. Rowling also wrote the introduction to the
2008 NYT bestseller Harry: A History, a book about the
Harry Potter fandom written by Leaky's webmistress, Melissa Anelli.
Leaky, and PotterCast, kept me going between
book and movie releases, providing a Harry Potter fix (Harry is my heroin?). Before the release of each new book or film,
I had a ritual of re-reading the previous books. When the fifth book, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, came out in 2003, I
pre-ordered my copy from Amazon UK. But
there was a catch: The book would be shipped from the UK on the release date,
which was, beginning with the fourth book, simultaneous in the U.S. and UK. So, I had to endure everyone around me lining
up for the midnight release parties and getting their book a week ahead of
me. The next day, going to work in NYC,
I was surrounded on the subway by people with their heads buried in the new
book. I made sure to time my re-reading
so that I was still immersed in the previous books right up until my British
version arrived.
I repeated this ritual in 2005 for the
sixth book, Harry Potter and the
Half-Blood Prince, but my system collapsed in 2007 when the seventh and
final book, Harry Potter and the Deathly
Hallows, was released. I doubt it is
going to surprise anyone that I simply could not wait. So, I stood in line at the Barnes & Noble
on the UWS and got my American copy at midnight. By the time the British version arrived, all was well.
1997-2007: Ten years, seven books. A
generation of children grew up with Harry.
But I wasn't a child, nor was I a swoony fan girl. To me, the Potterverse was escapism. It was a place I could visit, through the
books, movies, websites, theories, speculation, dissection, and fan fiction,
whenever I needed comfort. My favourite
books are the odd-numbered ones—1, 3, 5, 7.
I re-read the whole series occasionally but I often pick up those
favourites and skim passages. My main
comfort food is the first book. I love
Harry's discovery of the magical world; it plays into every girl's fantasy of finding
out that she is really a princess.
Having magical powers would be much better than being a princess, and
going to Hogwarts is literally being whisked away to live in a castle. I've re-read the first four-book set I
bought initially, the only paperbacks as the subsequent new releases were all
hardcovers, so many times the pages are falling out.
I appreciate the didactic aspect of the
books, the humour, the classical references, and, naturally, the political
allegory (the anti-fascism of Phoenix
is perennially relevant) but most of all I just want to immerse myself in the
Potterverse as a form of escapism. I curl
up with the books in the same way I curl up with a bowl of mac'n'cheese or ice
cream or a bubble bath with a glass of wine.
They are literary comfort food.
After the final midnight book release in
2007, the films enabled us to stretch the party out until 2011, when Deathly Hallows, Part 2 came out. Splitting the final book into two films was
the right choice as there was already too much cut from previous books when
they were stuffed into movie format much like Harry was stuffed into Dudley's
old jumper. The final book, although it
ostensibly resolved everything, had left fans with plenty to discuss. But after the final film was released, the
fandom began to fizzle. Some Harry
Potter devotees put the Potterverse behind them, some felt like they
had outgrown it, others moved on to other fandoms. In addition to PotterCast, Leaky had spawned
an annual Harry Potter convention, known as LeakyCon,
(which is in Dublin this year for a special "19 years later"
celebration that I would attend if I could afford it), and a news site called
LeakyNews. The con began to branch out
into other fandoms, and the news site spun off from Leaky as a general entertainment
news and pop culture website. PotterCast
never formally ceased but the intervals between podcasts grew longer, until
they became almost an annual reunion.
Leaky disabled its discussion forum and news shifted to items only
tangentially related to the Potterverse, such as what the films' cast members
were working on now.
But then Anelli was tapped to advise on a
new official interactive site for the books called Pottermore. At last, more Potter! On Pottermore, you felt like you were really heading
to Hogwarts, shopping in Diagon Alley for your set books and potion ingredients,
and even an owl, cat, or toad if you wanted one, getting chosen by a wand, and
getting sorted into houses, which then competed for points to win the House
Cup. Each chapter featured interactive
scenes, and new nuggets of information provided by Rowling herself. Waiting for the release of each book's
material on Pottermore may not have been quite as compelling as waiting for the
books themselves, but it was engaging and aesthetically pleasing. I loved it, and was sorry to see it change,
wiping all of the scenes, houses, etc., and replacing them with a news and
opinion format. It would have been ideal
if they could have done both—combining the opportunity to explore the chapters
interactively scene by scene with the commentary that they have since added.
 |
| Gryffindor scarf on lamppost outside cinema, finished whilst waiting for midnight screening of Deathly Hallows, Part 2 |
My most particular Pottermore thrill was
getting sorted into my house of choice, Gryffindor. My natural house would be Ravenclaw but I badly
wanted to be in Gryffindor. The sorting
hat supposedly takes your preferences into account but how would that be
captured in a computer algorithm? The houses
had to be evenly populated, and more people would likely want to be in
Gryffindor than the other three houses combined. What Pottermore chose to do was set a
multiple choice test. Your house would be
based on your answers, although presumably it would have to override them at
times to keep the houses balanced. It
was easy to suss which answer applied to which house. For most questions, my gut answer would have
been the Ravenclaw choice but I deliberately selected the Gryffindor
answer. My relief when I got in was out
of proportion, revealing how seriously I took my desire to be in Gryffindor.
The
Wizarding World of Harry Potter theme park and the Leavesden Studio tour were—and
remain—real places to go immerse yourself in the Potterverse. It is my heart's desire to visit both of
them, if ever I can afford it. There was
also a traveling exhibit of costumes and props from the films, which I devoured
when it came to NYC, taking City Girl along as her birthday present, whether
she liked it or not (she did).
But then things quieted down. Rowling went on to write some adult fiction,
which I dutifully read, but there didn't seem to be anything new in the
Potterverse. One day in 2013 I was
listening to one of the knitting podcasts to which I subscribe and heard an
interview with the editor of a major knitting magazine, to which I also
subscribe. I froze when, at the tail end
of the interview, she casually mentioned that she was working on a special
issue devoted to Harry Potter. I found
her email address and wrote her an email begging to be involved in any way with
this project. I would have cheerfully
offered my first-born, if necessary. I
didn't dare hope for a response but, to my surprise and delight, she invited me
on-board the project. I recruited City
Girl, who is also a freelance writer and editor, and we both thought it was one of the most
wonderful projects we have ever worked on.
It was also the beginning of a long and fruitful freelance relationship
with this knitting publisher—I went on to work on other special issues, such as
Downton Abbey and Jane Austen, doing writing, editing, proofreading, and tech
editing of patterns, until the company was sold. I still keep in touch with that former
editor, though, and she still loves Harry Potter.
With the advent of the Harry Potter and the Cursed Child play, and the Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
movie franchise, the Potter fandom has risen from its shallow grave like hungry
zombies. PotterCast, LeakyCon, and The
Leaky Cauldron itself, were given oxygen and revived. In January, Leaky advertised for new
editors. I responded and was immediately
chosen, I assume because I am an editor and writer by profession. I can't describe the thrill of pulling up the
site and seeing
my name as a byline for posts. Seven
months later, I still feel the same awe and excitement when I log into the
site's back end to compose a new post. I
have many ideas and just need to organise my time to write them—the editor
position is voluntary, so I need to squeeze it in around paying freelance work.
I did have a fear that I might be twice the
age of the site's other editors, let alone the target audience. Turns out there is a mix—some of them, yeah,
I am old enough to be their biological mother, others are older than me. Years ago, I got a bit frustrated with the
"family friendly" nature of the fan outlets. I wanted something a little more grown-up,
for fans who were adults when the books came out, who don't necessarily have
children, or even like children, where we can swear and talk about sex. It would not contain news, but rather
analysis, fan fiction, and discussion from an adult perspective. I realised if I wanted such a site, I would
have to make it. I registered a nifty
domain name (if I do say so myself) and wrote reams of content. There was just one catch: I don't have the
technical skills to make a pretty site, and I didn't want to use the blog
format that free services such as Wordpress or Blogger box you into. So, the site has never launched. It's on a backburner, for when I can either
afford to hire someone to develop the look and feel, or have the time to learn
the necessary skills myself.
So, 20 years later, the Potterverse is thriving,
and there are more movies and, if not more books per se, at least more
information about the wizarding world to look forward to in years to come.
I've yet to absorb the central lesson of
the books, which is to welcome death as a natural part of life. I'm a pretty hardcore atheist, and I don't
want to ever die; I don't want my consciousness to cease. I understand why Rowling wrote with that
perspective, why it's an existential goal for humans to make peace with death,
but, unlike Dumbledore, I don't expect to achieve that myself even when I am 150. But other themes in the books resonate with
me. On my living room wall, above my
desk, is Dumbledore's line, "It is our choices that show what we truly
are, far more than our abilities."
This is the key to success in my life.
This post is already too long to go into the details, so I'll elaborate
in another post, but suffice to say I have always rested on the laurels of my
abilities, my potential—"books and cleverness". I've never made an effort at anything. But in the real world, just like in the
magical one, it's grit, self-discipline, a work ethic—in other words, things we
do by choice, not innate talent—that determine our success. I've watched far less gifted students get
much better grades because they worked hard and I made no effort,
scraping by on my wits. My teachers used
to lament that I wouldn't have to make as much effort as most other students to
do well, that it was baffling how I never even tried. So, this quote reminds me daily that my
abilities count for little on their own, that I should make the choice, every
day, to try.
I am currently re-reading the series, in
honour of the 20th anniversary, and I find it just as spellbinding
(sorry) as ever. After all this
time? Always.
