A Praise for Potter

A post I wrote last summer on my personal blog. Figured it deserved a place here. 

I can’t remember for the life of me, but something compelled me to try and write a post like this last summer. Each and every time it just sounded really over-stuffed, and I ended up deleting it. I’m very glad I failed like I did, not only because I think I’ve finally got the right inspiration, but because it’s much more appropriate now. 

If you follow me on here, twitter, or you’re a friend on facebook, you’ve probably seen my nonstop jokes, appraisal, and out-of-context-jerrymandered-in references to Harry Potter. It’s been a big week for me. Not only have I seen the final film three times, I got to go live a dream, and see his world come to life at the Wizarding World. It’s almost been overwhelming, and I’ve felt a certain giddy nostalgia in my heart that’s only been sprinkled about my life, popping up at certain moments I’ll remember forever. 

This is my send off. It’s almost a goodbye. I don’t think it’s a goodbye, really, because this isn’t a story that’s going to end just because the book and movies are finally complete. I use “complete” here because they aren’t “over”. That, too, implies an end. I will say that I’m going to drastically try and reduce my number of Harry Potter pictures, posts, and references after this (save a few pictures I’d like to whore for tumblr fame), so if you’ve been annoyed with me, you can breathe easy. 

My aim is to wrap up how Harry Potter has been in my life, through the books, movies, and just the world that’s been created by that wonderful J.K. Rowling lady. I’ll try to do it as elegantly as possible, but I warn you that this will be lengthy, personal, and kind of corny. I won’t hold it against you if you scroll past. 

Everyone kept telling me the Wizarding World was gonna be a lot smaller than it looked, and I guess I expected it to be uber-cramped, because it seemed huge to me. A very healthy sized theme park. There are so many freaking pictures I want to post, but I’m going to hold off. 

Stepping through the gates of Hogsmeade filled me with that nostalgia I mentioned. My heart warmed, and my stomach dropped. It was the same feeling I had when I saw the first trailer for Sorcerer’s Stone as a kid. I think it was on a VHS rental of ‘Cats and Dogs’, but it still seems clear as day. That haunting melody by John Williams sets off, and I was gifted with clips of owls fluttering by, odd looking folk in a strange alley, and a small boy walking next to an enormous, hairy half-giant. 

“Did you ever make anything happen? Anything you couldn’t explain?”

I feel like you could almost ask Rowling the same question. She made this happen. This story, this world, this movement. We can list why it’s such a phenomenon all night and day, but I think it’d be hard to explain it in it’s entirety. 

This was a story I was already very attached to. Yes, I was one of those kids. The “I actually read the books” kid. Kind of a funny origin to that, though. When I was in either second or third grade, we got this little TIME for Kidsmagazine. The issue in question was about the Harry Potter books, a series that was apparently taking the best-seller’s list by storm. Looking through that lil kiddie mag, I felt a strange attraction to the quirky artwork of Mary Grandpre. In fact, this picture of Hogwarts is one of the first ever Harry Potter images I remember seeing. 

Anyway, after that, a strange game of sorts started taking place. Every week, once we got to the library, almost everyone would run as fast as they could to try and snatch one of the few copies of Sorcerer’s Stone that we had. Once the kid in question got his/her hands on it, he/she would proudly sit it atop a desk and other kids would ask if they could only hold it. 

Thing is, I’m not sure most any of them actually read the damn thing. One fateful day, I was the lucky winner of the weekly race, and it was my turn for HP glory. Anyway, I did the whole “look how cool I am with my book I don’t read” bullshit, but one night I had an absolutely crazy idea. I could……read it. So, I cracked it open, and slowly but surely, I started. Very shortly after, I was hooked.

These books are wonderful reads for kids, especially my generation. I consider myself very lucky because the series was paced out over time for me. I had to wait for them, and my age corresponded almost perfectly with Harry’s at the time of the read. They’re technically a childrens’ book, but they certainly do age well. Harry Potter is an amazing “Coming of Age” series. 

It’s cliche to say, but in a lot of ways, it was my childhood. I remember spending long hours out in a tree I had in my backyard reading through Goblet of Fire. My mom was so cool, because she used to work night shift, and she snagged me a copy the day it was released. That book was a bit of a turning point for me, not only because it was one of my favorites, but it firmly secured my love of the series. From that point on, I got every book and saw every movie the day of it’s release. Much more than that, it was one that really pulled me in. 

The book was beautiful. The slip-cover so full of beauty and detail, and the pages almost had a smell to them. You felt the weight of the book, maybe even the weight of the story, in your hands. I like to say I’m thankful for these books, because I got to go on a journey. I felt the whimsy of Harry when the Weasleys rescued him and let him tag along on the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I related when Malfoy humiliated Harry in ways that certain bullies at school would get under my skin. I remember feeling an ominous dread when Voldemort returned and I even told my mom about it. “Things are going to get bad, Mom”, I said.

She answered “Well you should be happy, because that means there will be more for you to read.” She was right. Harry’s world was growing, not only in the heart of a young boy, but throughout the world. Imagine my delight when this happened. 

And now the worlds became intertwined. I got so many emotions and little details and the core story from the books, and the films added new elements and all the magical things I’d read as a boy could come to life. Soon, it wasn’t a world, but a universe. 

I’d read the funny lines from Ron, but now I could hear Rupert Grint deliver them. I’d read of Voldemort’s fearsome appearance, but now I could see him in the flesh.

Hell, I’d read about how good Butterbeer was, and now I can freaking drink it. 

That stuff is damn delicious. Let’s talk about this theme park for a second. It was brilliant! There are shops with food and candy and jokes and wands and robes and all sorts of awesome stuff. The main ride is crazy cool, but there’s so much detail put into everything. It felt like real magic to me, because you’d see something hover in a window, or a shadow may appear for a moment, but as soon as you’d point it out to someone, it would vanish. It was almost mischievous, but it made you smile. There are talks of expanding it, and I think that would be a stellar idea. 

I’m so happy that all of this has gotten so big. I love that other people are as nerdy as I am and it’s just okay because, as they say these days “everyone loves Harry Potter”. 

I remember in 5th grade, everyone was stoked for the first movie. Mr. Brown read the first one to us, and I had a well-worn copy that I combed again and again. Even the kids in class would pick out a name of a character they’d like to be. A big of an accomplishment was the fact that I got to be Harry. Everyone knew I loved it so much and I guess I was popular enough to get it. I felt a bit proud for this silly, imaginary game. 

Then I move to middle-school. All of the sudden, I find out everyone is too cool for that stuff. Harry Potter? Harry Potter is gay dude! If you like it, you’re just a nerd. This was really hard for me to comprehend, and my confusion with that correlated a lot with my middle-school experience. I moved away from all of my friends of Bonny Kate, and where I was once well-liked enough to be crowned the class Harry Potter, to someone who really had nobody to talk to. 

Those will always be some of the worst years of my life. I got picked on, and I had to try and start figuring out who I was and how to be social again. I’ll even say that some of the childhood cruelty I dealt with scarred me in some ways. It isn’t something I like to talk about. Despite all that, I stuck with Harry Potter, and Harry Potter always stuck with me. I still saw the movies, and I still got the books. His world helped me escape even more. Hogwarts turned out to be my safe haven just as much as it was Harry’s. 

By the time the final books came out, I was at a perfect age to receive the message. Tolerance, Acceptance, and Love will always win. I was no longer a boy, but a young man. It was half-way through my high school career when I read Deathly Hallows, and I figured out a lot of my morals and values in that time. I’m not sure how big a hand Harry Potter played in all that, but I think it did affect me. I’ll never understand why idiots protest these books for “witchcraft”. I even had a preacher once go on a big sermon about how we ought to burn every Harry Potter book and movie we owned. What fools those people are. Harry Potter’s biggest and truest moral is the power of love, and if you can’t see that, you’re just plain dumb.

Deathly Hallows is my favorite book, favorite film, but it also helped me come to terms with death. See, Voldemort’s worst fear is dying. He did everything he could to escape it and become a master of death. They don’t say this in the final movie, but the book it’s quite explicit. Harry Potter is a true master of death. How? Because he has accepted that he will die one day, and he does not fear it, and with that, he has conquered it. I believe there are two quotes about letting go at the beginning of the final book, and it’s a major theme. 

“Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and above all, those who live without love.”

Dumbledore has some of the greatest quotes of all time. 

I think I can wrap it up now. I’ll thank Harry Potter, for giving me a thirst for magic and adventure, for offering me safe haven in my time of need, for teaching me love and tolerance, and for helping me face my fears. For a children’s book, it’s offered me so much.

Every fall, I’ll think of a Halloween feast in the Great Hall. Every Winter, I’ll think of warm butterbeer in Hogsmeade. Every Spring, I’ll think of the trio studying rigirously for their O.W.L.S.. Every Summer, right about now, I’ll get that same feeling, that it’s about time to go back to Hogwarts. 

I know it won’t keep popping up as prominently through my life, but I’ll keep living it. With my children, who will hear me read these stories every night. We’ll talk about them, and when we finish one, we’ll watch a movie. Hopefully I can take them to the theme park when it’s all said and done. 

When I left Hogwarts, I felt a bit sad, but I remembered a line that really touched me from the final movie. 

Near the climax, as Harry faces death, he speaks Sirius Black from beyond the grave, along with his parents and other loved ones. He asks if any of the villains will be able to see them, and Sirius replies “No”, points to Harry’s heart, and finishes with “We’re in here, you see.”

That’s where Hogwarts really is, and you can go back any time you need to.