Have You Ever Heard of These "Potter" Books?

Obviously I read this the week it came out, but I haven’t had time to actually write it up. In fact, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to write it up. Why not? Because it’s been the most hyped tome since Jesus’ boys penned a little tract called “The New Testament.”

Maybe you’ve heard of it?

Is Potter Jesus? No. Anyone who blows a character out of proportion like the throngs of pre-teens at Barnes and Noble in Union Square needs to know this: fiction = lies. That said, there is some truth to the connection that these people (and lets’ be honest folks: there were some slightly “elder” folk in the midst) have with the characters. And that’s a testament to the genius that is J.K. Rowling.

I’ve had this argument with my more literary-minded friends before, thinking that they’re just kid-books. Or, worse yet, “sci-fi/fantasy” books. Hell, when I talked to my geek/nerd friends when the first books became popular in the U.S., they thought it was the gayest thing in the world to read Harry Potter (because it was “wack; not like The Lord of the Rings – there’s a great episode of “South Park” that echoes this sentiment).

Here’s the problem with both arguments. To begin: What’s wrong with science fiction or fantasy? How much of great literature actually falls under this category? Oh, that’s right, a whole bunch. Shall we do a little list of authors?

Orwell
Bradbury
Asimov
Tolkien
Verne
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

How about perhaps more of a stretch:

William Golding
Toni Morrison
James Joyce
Cormac McCarthy (who just won the Pulitzer)
Philip Roth

Fantastical elements are part and parcel of much of these latter authors' writing, and yet they aren’t classified in a specific “genre” so as not to denigrate their attempts. But it’s there nonetheless.

Magic is magic, boys and girls.

And there’s nothing wrong with that! In the September 2007 issue of Harper’s, an essay from Ursula Le Guin (a canonical sci-fi author – and I love the idea of canonical sci-fi) makes this point abundantly clear when she writes:

“Could he [Michael Chabon] not see that Cormac McCarthy – although everything in his book (except the wonderfully blatant use of an egregiously obscure vocabulary) was remarkably similar to a great many earlier works of science fiction about men crossing the country after a holocaust [speaking of his prize-winning novel, The Road] – could never under any circumstances be said to be a sci-fi writer, because Cormac McCarthy was a serious writer and so by definition incapable of lowering himself to commit genre?”

I’m not saying she thinks that McCarthy holds that opinion, but it’s pretty clear she thinks that the people who read him believe he isn’t “science fiction.” Le Guin’s highly sarcastic essay points out quite clearly the nature of the literary community, in it’s pedestal-placement of “high literature,” as totally ignoring the fact that if you’re going to sneer at “genre,” make sure your Ivory Tower isn’t built on it in the first place!

Moreover, by immediately placing something in a category, you are immediately shutting down any sort of constructive and objective facilities you might have. Considering that the first Potter book, The Sorcerer's Stone, is essentially a mystery novel that incorporates magic shows that it doesn’t easily fit into any genre, per se. It also helps that Rowling is an incredible writer.

Is “incredible” or “genius” too grand of terms? Maybe. But consider these two things: She’s a billionaire and you can read one of her 750 page novels in a day.

I don’t think I’m stretching those words too much.

What makes her so successful? Obviously, I wish I knew the formula, because then I’d be living in a castle in Scotland, too (although, I don’t actually have a desire to live in a castle in Scotland, but if that’s where all the billionaire authors hang out, that’s where my U-Haul will be pulling up to). Instead, though, you can point to a number of things. First, ease of reading. This is fiction at its best, because it is eminently readable. The sentences are not overly complex, the dialogue is natural and flows well, the explanations are short and yet provide information to complex ideas, and the story moves quickly.

Second (and obviously tied to the first) is that it works as YA literature – which I’ve discussed a few times. By being readable and appealing to a wide age-group, she created an audience virtually unparalleled in literature. Think of it this way: Ulysses, often considered the greatest novel ever written, is read by very few people, and understood by even less. You virtually can’t read it for deep understanding without guidance. On the flip-side, an 11-year-old girl can read Harry Potter, and not only get through it without difficulty, but probably give an adult insights they hadn’t even thought of. I’m sorry, but that’s genius.

I recently was speaking with my friend, and she asked me where I thought Potter would rank alongside The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings. I honestly think they will surpass them in terms of literary stature. They have characters that are more readily identifiable. The stories don’t carry any blatant religious overtones or subtexts. And, in an age of instant access, children are growing up with these books. People about to have children are reading these books. And millions and millions of copies are circulating, as well as concurrent movies (something Lewis and Tolkien did not have the luxury of). They have the immediacy of being in the minds of a huge audience, and they have a universality that shouldn’t have any trouble enduring. I love Lewis, and I appreciate Tolkien (I like the story, but I’m not thrilled with the execution), but I think Rowling has taken their tradition and brought it to a whole new place. Because unlike Lewis, her seven books tell one story, and unlike Tolkien, she wrote a populist text.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is an excellent finale to an excellent series. I think it satisfies everything that a fan could want, despite some protestations I’ve heard to the contrary. Rowling was unafraid to make strong decisions regarding characters (some die). Better yet, she answers the questions raised by the series (especially books 5 and 6), and she ends it in a way that leaves very little possibility for there to be more in the Potterverse.

And that’s a good thing.

Imagine you have the ability to write a winning lottery ticket whenever you want. But imagine doing so would destroy something beautiful each time. That’s what Rowling has the ability to do. By ending the last book the way she does, though, she pretty much closes down any future Harry Potter novels. What this means is that there won’t be any Superman IIIs or Batman and Robins or Rocky Vs. In other words, beloved franchises were ruined because of the desire to make more money. It may be over, and that may be sad, but it means the story is complete, and in time I think that’s for the best. I’d rather read all seven and be upset that there’s no more than read an eighth book and hate it.

Like I said, she’s a genius. And I’m willing to go toe-to-toe with anyone who disagrees.

I’m sure I can find a couple of people who might back me up.