As the opening scenes of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two hit the screen and cries of Expecto Patronum, Lumos, and Silenco (one we knew well and used unsparingly in the home of my youth) rose in the air, I was formulating my next Facebook status--Note to self: write a series of best selling books that are made into blockbuster movies for which people wait in line decked out in ridiculous costumes in imitation of the characters I created. (Ka-ching!) Chuckling to myself, as narcissistic writers are wont to do, my amusement soon turned to discomfort and then dismay as I picked up on a disturbing theme in the movie, one that has certainly been present in all things Harry Potter (which I just now accidentally typed as Happy Rotter—a Fruedian slip, no?) from the beginning. However, it was the intensity of the final installment, laid out in glorious movie magic, that revealed it to me with force.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy Harry Potter but like other books of its ilk—the Twilight series, The Hunger Games, etc.—as well as movies with similar dynamics (just about every Disney movie made in the past twenty years) it sports negative themes embedded in the positive ones. As a result, there have been rabid fans, as well as rabid detractors, from the moment Hagrid declares “You’re a wizard, Harry.” As for myself, I was never one to be concerned with the fact that Harry Potter’s world is peopled with the antithesis of Christianity, in a phrase, witches and wizards, as I’m a fantasy fan from way back. As time went on, none of my kids became the least obsessed so I dismissed the Potter progression as pretty much harmless. After all, the story is a classic battle between good and evil and what society doesn’t need a few of those? However, as I watched the final battle between those on the side of good and those on the side of evil, a disturbing series of events unfolded.
Case(s) in point: The Malfoy family who walk away from the fray at the final moment, who never totally commit to one side or the other, (the worst kind of villain, in my opinion) whose concern was not standing for a cause they believed in but only the survival of their child. Yet, they suffer no negative consequence for their perfidy. Then there's Mrs. Weasley whose actions are merely marginal for the entire battle but who springs into action when her child is threatened. Her whole world is at stake but her battle cry is “Not my daughter, you don’t!”
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy Harry Potter but like other books of its ilk—the Twilight series, The Hunger Games, etc.—as well as movies with similar dynamics (just about every Disney movie made in the past twenty years) it sports negative themes embedded in the positive ones. As a result, there have been rabid fans, as well as rabid detractors, from the moment Hagrid declares “You’re a wizard, Harry.” As for myself, I was never one to be concerned with the fact that Harry Potter’s world is peopled with the antithesis of Christianity, in a phrase, witches and wizards, as I’m a fantasy fan from way back. As time went on, none of my kids became the least obsessed so I dismissed the Potter progression as pretty much harmless. After all, the story is a classic battle between good and evil and what society doesn’t need a few of those? However, as I watched the final battle between those on the side of good and those on the side of evil, a disturbing series of events unfolded.
Case(s) in point: The Malfoy family who walk away from the fray at the final moment, who never totally commit to one side or the other, (the worst kind of villain, in my opinion) whose concern was not standing for a cause they believed in but only the survival of their child. Yet, they suffer no negative consequence for their perfidy. Then there's Mrs. Weasley whose actions are merely marginal for the entire battle but who springs into action when her child is threatened. Her whole world is at stake but her battle cry is “Not my daughter, you don’t!”
And what about the adults who seem incapabale of harming so much as a fly? There’s the ineffectual Professor Slughorn whose big moment is to demonstrate a glassy-eyed lack of comprehension in the face of utter destruction. At least he's still alive. The number of adults who die in the face of the same evil fury over which young Harry and his friends triumph is staggering. One of these, Professor Lupin, discounts the fact that his pointless death leaves his child parentless as he will be sure to understand the "contribution" they made once he's old enough. In my mind, the only contribution his death made was to highlight the fact that it was only "the boy" who could possibly make any contribution at all whatsoever. Even Hagrid, gigantic in size, strength and utter presence, is reduced to a man of small means and accomplishments, who fails to determine that the seemingly dead Harry he cradles in his arms is very much alive.
The Harry/Hermione/Ron triumvirate isn’t the only example of strength, talent, capacity and triumph that, quite frankly, trumps the adults amongst the occupants of Hogwarts. Neville Longbottom, the butt of jokes throughout the entire series for his lack of any redeeming value whatsoever, saves the day in his very own way, not once, but twice. Contrast that with the shot of the once-malignant janitor as he pushes his broom against a pile of dust bordering a mound of boulders. The message is clear; there is little he can do to clean up the mess that has become Hogwarts and we are left to believe that in a place full of experienced spell-casters, there are none but children (who are scurrying around, binding up the wounded, fetching drinks of water, etc.) to make things right.
The Harry/Hermione/Ron triumvirate isn’t the only example of strength, talent, capacity and triumph that, quite frankly, trumps the adults amongst the occupants of Hogwarts. Neville Longbottom, the butt of jokes throughout the entire series for his lack of any redeeming value whatsoever, saves the day in his very own way, not once, but twice. Contrast that with the shot of the once-malignant janitor as he pushes his broom against a pile of dust bordering a mound of boulders. The message is clear; there is little he can do to clean up the mess that has become Hogwarts and we are left to believe that in a place full of experienced spell-casters, there are none but children (who are scurrying around, binding up the wounded, fetching drinks of water, etc.) to make things right.
The proliferation of film and story peopled by children who triumph over/in rescue of ineffectual adults has increased at an alarming rate since my oldest was born 21 years ago and even the least guilty amongst us has paid a price. Ask any long-time school teacher--there’s no doubt children have become far less respectful of their elders, more derisive of their superiors and more likely to “talk back” to adults. Even those children who are of a meek and obedient nature seem to have lost sight of their proper place. For example, as we walked out of the final Harry Potter movie, I asked my nine year old if he was going to have bad dreams that night. Humiliated by the question (he’s the baby of the family, but, as I frequently forget, no longer a baby) he took a moment to compose himself and very firmly stated: “Don’t ever ask me that question again.” I was shocked by his turn of phrase and informed him that his father and I made the rules, not him. Yet, if I am honest, I must own some responsibility for his choice of words. Aren’t I the one who tends to snicker at the remarks my teenager makes, the same ones a youthful me would have been sent to my room to repent of? Aren’t I the one who ignores the tirades of my eldest when he is in one of his King of Siam moods (sure, he’s bipolar and experiences temporary chemically induced madness but his younger siblings see the lack of consequences). Aren’t I, in one way or another, as guilty as the next parent of worshipping her own children in this youth-worshipping culture in which we dwell?
Isaiah said (3:4-5): And I will give children to be their princes, and babes shall rule over them. . . . the child shall behave himself proudly against the ancient . . .”
I’m not saying that Harry Potter is ruining a generation of children so save your hate emails (unless yours is very well written and makes me laugh). What I am saying is that his story is a symptom of an already pervading attitude that just might ruin us.
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