Yeah, yeah, yeah. Still not done with Harry. I'm working on it.
But with the return of Mad Men on Sunday comes fresh inspiration for a heroine post. Joan Holloway Harris and Peggy Olson are heroines for the ages (theirs and ours), and I'd like to take a moment to talk about them. And it's my blog, so I pretty much get to do whatever I want. HA!
I'm going to start with Peggy, because she is easily the single most evolved character on the show. I don't mean "evolved" like "forward-thinking and acting" (though she is that), I mean personally evolved since the start of the show.
The pilot is a typical "first day of work" by way of story-arc-opener for Peggy- she starts her first day as Don's secretary, taking advice (and OB/GYN recommendations) from the ever-helpful Joan and fending off the advances (momentarily, anyway) of the overzealous Peter Campbell. By the end of the episode, of course, she is on the Pill, knocked up, and well on her way to being more than just a secretary in the Sterling Cooper world.
Though modern times make this seem unlikely, Peggy spends the entire first season not knowing she's pregnant, and she's promoted to copywriter the day she gives birth. We later find out that Don tracks her down, helps her pick up and dust off, and the two set off toward the future knowing just a little bit of each other's secrets.
The changes in her over the course of season two are obvious-- at the end of the season she is able to confess to Pete that she had their baby, and that she could have made it so that they were together forever, but she "wanted more." This "more" seems to have been her disturbing affair with Duck in season three (still waiting to see how that hashes out) and very definite ambitions to be "the next" Don Draper, if not his most promising protege.
These seasons and changes are a marked by fierce contrasts-- Peggy hesitatingly welcoming Pete into her home in the pilot; Peggy rejecting his drunken offer of love and devotion. Peggy cowering under Don's glare when she missteps on her first day; Peggy looking Don straight in the eye and demanding his respect when he makes her an offer (but not really) to join the still-zygote Sterling, Cooper, Draper, Pryce. Peggy the secretary; Peggy having her own secretary (a man!) who she can order around at will.
While Peggy has grown and changed (or, at the very least, figured out what she wants and how to go about expressing it), Joan has achieved her goals, only to find out that they're not all they're cracked up to be.
Joan Harris spends her time being the best: she is the best secretary (and therefore becomes the Office Manager), the best mistress (discreet and non-demanding... plus she's really great for your nuclear mother/daughter squabbles), and then later the best fiancee (to the biggest dirtbag around), and the best wife (she quotes Emily Post to the dirtbag and plays the accordion... awesome). All of this, but nothing in her life is perfect. Because she is a woman in this time, she might be given the "highest position" that can be given to a woman (Office Manager), but she is trumped by Peggy, who breaks through the ceiling and enters the men's realm.
Her perfection as a wife is indisputable, but the perfection of her life as a wife is nonexistent- Greg is a whiney, inept surgeon who is very jealous, possessive, and useless. When she brains him with a vase in season three, it is a joyous thing to behold.
I will be anxious to see what has happened to Joan since she was summoned back to save the men as they floundered trying to get the details in order to create SCDP (One of her last lines of the season: "Greg's going to kill me"). Last we heard, her useless husband had joined the Army so he could go be a surgeon in Vietnam, where I really, really hope he dies. Big time. Whatever she's doing at SCDP, she's doing well, since she has an office all to herself in the sleek (if crowded) new offices in the Time Warner building. And while we're at it, I hope she's still using her considerable charm and physique to lull those men into submission before going in for the kill. Manipulative? Sure. But you can't argue that it doesn't work, and you can't argue that it's not a smart move on her part.
23 July 2010
In Which I Talk About Non-Fiction, and Get Slightly Political
Yes I am still reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. No, I haven't finished it yet.
But it occurred to me today that I have read two additional books that I haven't really talked about here. Those would be my non-fiction book on CD "readings" that take place in my car. First there was John Adams by David McCullough, which, at twenty four discs, took me FOREVER to finish. And right now there is American Lion by Jon Meacham, which is not taking nearly as long to finish.
What's interesting, and entirely accidental, about this whole thing is that Jackson comes to his Presidency only a few years after John Adams dies, and whereas the Adams biography covers the man's entire life from start to finish, American Lion picks up when Jackson defeats John Quincy Adams in the 1828 Presidential Election, covering only briefly his early life and rise to power. As a result, this experience has been rather like reading a continuous timeline of our country in its infancy.
Each of these books is well-written, though I will admit to a secret weakness for David McCollough and therefore a preference for his work in general.
Personally, I have been appalled by the political climate in our country. There is a lack of civility in the discourse which is at times inhumane- people (in general and politicians specifically) are not allowed to be human beings, but rather must be paragons of virtue who have made a sum total of zero mistakes in the course of their lives. And in the name of political progress, any and all mistakes made by any person at any point in their lives is available for use in character assassination by opponents.
One of the reasons I like Obama is that he, at least, believes in civility. When it came out that the pro-family, pro-life, pro-abstinence Sarah Palin's seventeen-year-old daughter was pregnant, the media jumped on it and asked Obama if he had anything to say. And he did. This is what he had to say: "I think people's families are off-limits, and people's children are especially off-limits."
He absolutely could have taken this opportunity to say that obviously teaching abstinence-only is ludicrous, and here is a grade-A example of why it doesn't work. But he didn't. And that's one of the main things I like about him.
Anyway, I have been appalled by the language, and, to quote a barfworthy Bush/Cheneyism, "the discourse." And whether or not this is hugely influenced by "the media" (just as a blanket term) is probably indisputable. However, I have spent a long time thinking that with each year that passes, the situation is getting worse. And worse. And worse.
So I don't know whether or not to be relieved or horrified to learn that the situation has actually not changed very much in the 240+ years since the formation of our lovely government. John Adams passed the Alien and Sedition Acts to lock up newspaper editors who wrote libel or false stories about the leaders of this country. Freedom of Speech and Freedom of the Press aside, it's fascinating to read that in the last years of the eighteenth century he was dealing with such vicious attacks on his presidency and character that he felt he had to take measures to protect himself and the office. To say nothing of the fact that Thomas Jefferson, his opponent, was behind a great number of these attacks.
As for Andrew Jackson, there's really no dispute that he married his wife Rachel under... dodgy circumstances. Whether she was still married to her first husband when they wed, or whether they lived together (in sin!! WOOT!) before marriage, there was plenty of fuel for opponents to use in the anti-Jackson fire. In fact, there are some who would argue that the attacks made on Rachel to derail her husband's presidential bid hastened her death, which occurred right before he took office. As for dealing with a politically overheated country, the Southern states first started talking of secession so that they did not have to live under what they thought of as despotic Jacksonian rule.
Awesome Friday rant, right?
Apologies for over-politicalness, or whatever. It's just been startling to be to read about these two very different men who ran our country, who were running things under relatively similar conditions to those of today. It really does seem as though things have not gotten worse... we just hear about it faster, what with the internets and the television. So... yeah. Have a good weekend.
But it occurred to me today that I have read two additional books that I haven't really talked about here. Those would be my non-fiction book on CD "readings" that take place in my car. First there was John Adams by David McCullough, which, at twenty four discs, took me FOREVER to finish. And right now there is American Lion by Jon Meacham, which is not taking nearly as long to finish.
What's interesting, and entirely accidental, about this whole thing is that Jackson comes to his Presidency only a few years after John Adams dies, and whereas the Adams biography covers the man's entire life from start to finish, American Lion picks up when Jackson defeats John Quincy Adams in the 1828 Presidential Election, covering only briefly his early life and rise to power. As a result, this experience has been rather like reading a continuous timeline of our country in its infancy.
Each of these books is well-written, though I will admit to a secret weakness for David McCollough and therefore a preference for his work in general.
Personally, I have been appalled by the political climate in our country. There is a lack of civility in the discourse which is at times inhumane- people (in general and politicians specifically) are not allowed to be human beings, but rather must be paragons of virtue who have made a sum total of zero mistakes in the course of their lives. And in the name of political progress, any and all mistakes made by any person at any point in their lives is available for use in character assassination by opponents.
One of the reasons I like Obama is that he, at least, believes in civility. When it came out that the pro-family, pro-life, pro-abstinence Sarah Palin's seventeen-year-old daughter was pregnant, the media jumped on it and asked Obama if he had anything to say. And he did. This is what he had to say: "I think people's families are off-limits, and people's children are especially off-limits."
He absolutely could have taken this opportunity to say that obviously teaching abstinence-only is ludicrous, and here is a grade-A example of why it doesn't work. But he didn't. And that's one of the main things I like about him.
Anyway, I have been appalled by the language, and, to quote a barfworthy Bush/Cheneyism, "the discourse." And whether or not this is hugely influenced by "the media" (just as a blanket term) is probably indisputable. However, I have spent a long time thinking that with each year that passes, the situation is getting worse. And worse. And worse.
So I don't know whether or not to be relieved or horrified to learn that the situation has actually not changed very much in the 240+ years since the formation of our lovely government. John Adams passed the Alien and Sedition Acts to lock up newspaper editors who wrote libel or false stories about the leaders of this country. Freedom of Speech and Freedom of the Press aside, it's fascinating to read that in the last years of the eighteenth century he was dealing with such vicious attacks on his presidency and character that he felt he had to take measures to protect himself and the office. To say nothing of the fact that Thomas Jefferson, his opponent, was behind a great number of these attacks.
As for Andrew Jackson, there's really no dispute that he married his wife Rachel under... dodgy circumstances. Whether she was still married to her first husband when they wed, or whether they lived together (in sin!! WOOT!) before marriage, there was plenty of fuel for opponents to use in the anti-Jackson fire. In fact, there are some who would argue that the attacks made on Rachel to derail her husband's presidential bid hastened her death, which occurred right before he took office. As for dealing with a politically overheated country, the Southern states first started talking of secession so that they did not have to live under what they thought of as despotic Jacksonian rule.
Awesome Friday rant, right?
Apologies for over-politicalness, or whatever. It's just been startling to be to read about these two very different men who ran our country, who were running things under relatively similar conditions to those of today. It really does seem as though things have not gotten worse... we just hear about it faster, what with the internets and the television. So... yeah. Have a good weekend.
19 July 2010
In Which Harry Potter Wins the Tri-Wizard Tournament
Cedric Diggory is dead.
As far as momentous deaths go, this one is stunning in its lack of ceremony or preamble. A simply hissed "Kill the spare" and a muttered death curse, and the handsome, intelligent, nice, bland Hufflepuff hero drops to the ground like a stone. Within the hour Voldemort rises and the second war begins.
The death of Diggory, I think, was meant to shock on a number of levels. As previously rambled in this blog, his death is the opening salvo of the "yes, this is a real and dangerous war, and people you know and love will die." Granted, we hadn't known Cedric that long, but we knew enough about him to know he was a genuinely good person, even if he was a touch boring and his dad was really, really obnoxious.
To kill someone so suddenly, with no compunction and no remorse, is standard Lord Voldemort. We have been told throughout the first four books that at the height of his power, He Who Must Not Be Named committed atrocities against innocents, and genuinely reigned terror on the wizarding populace. The death of Cedric Diggory is the first time this has directly affected one of our heroes, and is the first death in the "next generation" of those fighting the Dark Lord. In the words of Albus Dumbledore, "remember Cedric Diggory."
The Goblet of Fire is a book I often discount, but for reasons I can never remember when I'm actually reading it. As stated ad nauseum, this is the first "grown up" book, filled with Dark Marks and Death Eaters, government conspiracies and cover-ups, and an emotional family reunion that makes me cry every damn time. No matter how much it is mocked by Boy Scout.
While the Tri-Wizard Tournament was diverting and exciting (as is the Quidditch World Cup) none of that could match building tension, layer upon layer, beginning with the disappearance of Bertha Jorkins (who I think I referred to as Jenkins previously... I apologize) and the death of Frank the gardener (another wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time incident) and ending when Wormtail carries the world's most disturbing "baby" to the foot of Tom Riddle's grave. Nasty, creepy, and oh so wonderful.
I also have to mention again (again) the brilliance of J.K. Rowling and her writing. And her planning. And everything about her. Albus Dumbledore is speaking to someone in Goblet of Fire, and he tells them about a room that he stumbled on when he took a wrong turn to the restroom, a room in the castle he had never seen before, a room full of chamber pots. At the time, Dumbledore muses about whether he will find the room again, whether it only appears on the quarter moon, on Wednesdays, to people who really have to go, etc. Diehards, however, will note that Dumbledore is making the first mention of the Room of Requirement in the series. More of this ohholycrap awesomeness to come in The Order of the Phoenix.
On a scale of one to extremely excited, I am extremely excited to have reached the fever pitch of this series. No more messing around with spirits and apparitions, and people who-may-or-may-not be trying to kill Harry after they've escaped from Azkaban. From now on, we're all in.
As far as momentous deaths go, this one is stunning in its lack of ceremony or preamble. A simply hissed "Kill the spare" and a muttered death curse, and the handsome, intelligent, nice, bland Hufflepuff hero drops to the ground like a stone. Within the hour Voldemort rises and the second war begins.
The death of Diggory, I think, was meant to shock on a number of levels. As previously rambled in this blog, his death is the opening salvo of the "yes, this is a real and dangerous war, and people you know and love will die." Granted, we hadn't known Cedric that long, but we knew enough about him to know he was a genuinely good person, even if he was a touch boring and his dad was really, really obnoxious.
To kill someone so suddenly, with no compunction and no remorse, is standard Lord Voldemort. We have been told throughout the first four books that at the height of his power, He Who Must Not Be Named committed atrocities against innocents, and genuinely reigned terror on the wizarding populace. The death of Cedric Diggory is the first time this has directly affected one of our heroes, and is the first death in the "next generation" of those fighting the Dark Lord. In the words of Albus Dumbledore, "remember Cedric Diggory."
The Goblet of Fire is a book I often discount, but for reasons I can never remember when I'm actually reading it. As stated ad nauseum, this is the first "grown up" book, filled with Dark Marks and Death Eaters, government conspiracies and cover-ups, and an emotional family reunion that makes me cry every damn time. No matter how much it is mocked by Boy Scout.
While the Tri-Wizard Tournament was diverting and exciting (as is the Quidditch World Cup) none of that could match building tension, layer upon layer, beginning with the disappearance of Bertha Jorkins (who I think I referred to as Jenkins previously... I apologize) and the death of Frank the gardener (another wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time incident) and ending when Wormtail carries the world's most disturbing "baby" to the foot of Tom Riddle's grave. Nasty, creepy, and oh so wonderful.
I also have to mention again (again) the brilliance of J.K. Rowling and her writing. And her planning. And everything about her. Albus Dumbledore is speaking to someone in Goblet of Fire, and he tells them about a room that he stumbled on when he took a wrong turn to the restroom, a room in the castle he had never seen before, a room full of chamber pots. At the time, Dumbledore muses about whether he will find the room again, whether it only appears on the quarter moon, on Wednesdays, to people who really have to go, etc. Diehards, however, will note that Dumbledore is making the first mention of the Room of Requirement in the series. More of this ohholycrap awesomeness to come in The Order of the Phoenix.
On a scale of one to extremely excited, I am extremely excited to have reached the fever pitch of this series. No more messing around with spirits and apparitions, and people who-may-or-may-not be trying to kill Harry after they've escaped from Azkaban. From now on, we're all in.
15 July 2010
In Which I Go Off the Deep End (Again) and Write About Nicole Lasseter for No Good Reason
Yes, I'm still reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (poor Winky!), but this week is slightly insane (Hi, Boy Scout. How're ya doin'? Good? Good.) and rather than blow off the writing until I'm done like I have in the past, I have decided to mix things up and write about one of my heroines. You know, that list I was/am/was/am putting together at my own convenience.
Nicole Lasseter is the first heroine Kresley Cole wrote (well, the first one she published) and in my mind she remains one of the best. Girl sailor, raised on the high seas by her father, and then sent to exclusive boarding schools at the insistence of her grande dame granny. Nicole, like so many of my faves, likes the sea, has red hair, and is fairly kickass.
Mostly what I like about her is that she knows who she is and knows how to stand up for herself. Falling in lust-at-first-sight with your father's sworn enemy is not the easiest way to go about things, but Nicole manages to keep both men in her life without compromising her relationship with either one of them.
There are a couple of instances, too, where she stands up to Sutherland, the reprobate middle-son-turned-heir-to-the-title ship captain determined to ruin her father, without coming off as a total shrew. When Sutherland has her father thrown in jail to be released only after the commencement of The Great Circle Race (England to Australia in the fastest time), Nicole decides to captain the ship herself, which she does successfully until an act of sabotage brings down her ship.
When Sutherland rescues her from the sinking vessel, his own ship has already been sabotaged with tainted water, an act he assumes she has committed out of revenge. Rather than cowering under his anger and scorn and the active hatred of his crew toward her, Nicole holds her ground, holds her head high, and literally dares a ship full of salty sailors to do her harm.
Sutherland's past is murkier than expected (it's not often you meet a glowering hero with a genuine reason to glower), and when he and Nicole have their Big Separation, she definitely doesn't just fall back into his arms when he shows up at her doorstep. And she definitely refuses to let Sutherland bully her with regard to helping her father's shipping business off the ground. Again, she remains obstinate that she will not choose between them and he'll just have to get over it. And of course he does... it's a romance novel, people!
So Nicole is strong and clever and intelligent, and she commands the respect of those around her. So she's a rockstar for the back five of my Top Ten. Or Nine. Or whatever.
Nicole Lasseter is the first heroine Kresley Cole wrote (well, the first one she published) and in my mind she remains one of the best. Girl sailor, raised on the high seas by her father, and then sent to exclusive boarding schools at the insistence of her grande dame granny. Nicole, like so many of my faves, likes the sea, has red hair, and is fairly kickass.
Mostly what I like about her is that she knows who she is and knows how to stand up for herself. Falling in lust-at-first-sight with your father's sworn enemy is not the easiest way to go about things, but Nicole manages to keep both men in her life without compromising her relationship with either one of them.
There are a couple of instances, too, where she stands up to Sutherland, the reprobate middle-son-turned-heir-to-the-title ship captain determined to ruin her father, without coming off as a total shrew. When Sutherland has her father thrown in jail to be released only after the commencement of The Great Circle Race (England to Australia in the fastest time), Nicole decides to captain the ship herself, which she does successfully until an act of sabotage brings down her ship.
When Sutherland rescues her from the sinking vessel, his own ship has already been sabotaged with tainted water, an act he assumes she has committed out of revenge. Rather than cowering under his anger and scorn and the active hatred of his crew toward her, Nicole holds her ground, holds her head high, and literally dares a ship full of salty sailors to do her harm.
Sutherland's past is murkier than expected (it's not often you meet a glowering hero with a genuine reason to glower), and when he and Nicole have their Big Separation, she definitely doesn't just fall back into his arms when he shows up at her doorstep. And she definitely refuses to let Sutherland bully her with regard to helping her father's shipping business off the ground. Again, she remains obstinate that she will not choose between them and he'll just have to get over it. And of course he does... it's a romance novel, people!
So Nicole is strong and clever and intelligent, and she commands the respect of those around her. So she's a rockstar for the back five of my Top Ten. Or Nine. Or whatever.
12 July 2010
A Statement About the Third Book in My Marathon
I don't know about you, but I forgot how fast the Harry Potter books are to read. Of course, the first three are the shortest, but that is neither here nor there.
Ah, The Prisoner of Azkaban. Let's all agree right now that this book is where the saga begins. The Sorcerer's Stone is the beginning; The Chamber of Secrets is a time-burner and back-story filler; The Prisoner of Azkaban begins the rise of Voldemort.
A lot of retrospective pieces of interest, not the least of which is Professor Trelawney's second real prediction. In an under-mentioned creepy, creepy moment in the series, the fortune-telling ding-bat has a genuine moment of sight in the middle of Harry's Divination final exam. She predicts the rise of the Dark Lord following the return of his most loyal that very night. When Harry relates this incident to Dumbledore at the end of the story, Dumbledore lets drop that this is the second time Professor Trelawney made a legitimate prediction.
It's not until later that we learn her other prediction was the reason Voldemort came to Godric's Hollow to murder Harry Potter in the first place.
Meeting key players in the coming events is at once exhilarating and sad, knowing what is to come for them. When Remus Lupin stood up to ward off the Dementor on the Hogwart's Express, all I could do was hear small voices saying "Teddy Lupin is kissing our cousin!!" When Cedric Diggory comes over to admire Harry's Firebolt, all I could think of was "the wrong place at the wrong time". And when Cornelius Fudge met Harry outside of the Leaky Cauldron, all I could think was "you raging Douchecanoe."
We also see the beginning of Harry In Isolation, as he starts to get cut-off from people based purely on his own experiences. No one can know what he experiences when he's near the Dementors. No one knows the relief he feels to learn that there is a whole network of people out there, friends of his parents, who care deeply about his well-being. While occasionally whiney, Harry is also a very singular boy to whom not a lot of living people can relate. The Prisoner of Azkaban is the first time we start to see this build thematically.
So what happens in the end? Of course the servant escapes to rejoin his master, though the servant turns out not to be the man we suspected all along. And where does The Goblet of Fire begin? With the servant and his master in the Riddle mansion in central England, talking about the murder of poor Bertha Jenkins.
And with that... on to the Quidditch World Cup! (Appropriate, no? From one Cup to the other...)
Ah, The Prisoner of Azkaban. Let's all agree right now that this book is where the saga begins. The Sorcerer's Stone is the beginning; The Chamber of Secrets is a time-burner and back-story filler; The Prisoner of Azkaban begins the rise of Voldemort.
A lot of retrospective pieces of interest, not the least of which is Professor Trelawney's second real prediction. In an under-mentioned creepy, creepy moment in the series, the fortune-telling ding-bat has a genuine moment of sight in the middle of Harry's Divination final exam. She predicts the rise of the Dark Lord following the return of his most loyal that very night. When Harry relates this incident to Dumbledore at the end of the story, Dumbledore lets drop that this is the second time Professor Trelawney made a legitimate prediction.
It's not until later that we learn her other prediction was the reason Voldemort came to Godric's Hollow to murder Harry Potter in the first place.
Meeting key players in the coming events is at once exhilarating and sad, knowing what is to come for them. When Remus Lupin stood up to ward off the Dementor on the Hogwart's Express, all I could do was hear small voices saying "Teddy Lupin is kissing our cousin!!" When Cedric Diggory comes over to admire Harry's Firebolt, all I could think of was "the wrong place at the wrong time". And when Cornelius Fudge met Harry outside of the Leaky Cauldron, all I could think was "you raging Douchecanoe."
We also see the beginning of Harry In Isolation, as he starts to get cut-off from people based purely on his own experiences. No one can know what he experiences when he's near the Dementors. No one knows the relief he feels to learn that there is a whole network of people out there, friends of his parents, who care deeply about his well-being. While occasionally whiney, Harry is also a very singular boy to whom not a lot of living people can relate. The Prisoner of Azkaban is the first time we start to see this build thematically.
So what happens in the end? Of course the servant escapes to rejoin his master, though the servant turns out not to be the man we suspected all along. And where does The Goblet of Fire begin? With the servant and his master in the Riddle mansion in central England, talking about the murder of poor Bertha Jenkins.
And with that... on to the Quidditch World Cup! (Appropriate, no? From one Cup to the other...)
10 July 2010
In Which Harry Stabs a Big-Ass Basilisk with an Awesome Sword
What did I tell you?
If I'm being honest, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets is the weakest link in the series for me (This is not to say in any way that it is bad. It is just not the best book. By far). We're over the introductions, but the sinister-ness hasn't started to build yet (see: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban), and we're still trying to establish a solid villain. Literally.
However, in retrospect, there are a number of things that make Chamber of Secrets an essential volume. While Prisoner of Azkaban brings things away from the new rise of Voldemort and focuses on the events leading to the night of his demise, Chamber of Secrets goes back to the beginning, and shows the origins of the boy who became unnameable.
Tom Riddle, inhabitant of the diary that possesses Ginny Weasley, is of course the teenage incarnation of the Dark Lord. In his interaction with Harry in the Chamber, Tom reveals his roots: he was born of the last descendant of Salazar Slytherin and a Muggle who didn't know what he was getting into until after he had married and impregnated the witch living on his estate (full disclosure: we don't know the nature of their relationship until later books.)
Once again we see the pieces of detail being planted for later, and we see the extent to which certain people have been involved in past events: Dumbledore's role at Hogwarts before becoming Headmaster, confirmation of the Malfoys' full allegiance to Voldemort, etc.
We also get to know Fawkes and the hidden power of the Sorting Hat, as well as becoming familiar with the Basilisk and all of its terrible powers.
I just started reading Prisoner of Azkaban and it is twelve kinds of awesome. While being an excellent book to begin with (so much mis-direction! so many layers!) it is also as though you can feel the momentum gathering for the coming storm. And what a storm it is.
If I'm being honest, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets is the weakest link in the series for me (This is not to say in any way that it is bad. It is just not the best book. By far). We're over the introductions, but the sinister-ness hasn't started to build yet (see: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban), and we're still trying to establish a solid villain. Literally.
However, in retrospect, there are a number of things that make Chamber of Secrets an essential volume. While Prisoner of Azkaban brings things away from the new rise of Voldemort and focuses on the events leading to the night of his demise, Chamber of Secrets goes back to the beginning, and shows the origins of the boy who became unnameable.
Tom Riddle, inhabitant of the diary that possesses Ginny Weasley, is of course the teenage incarnation of the Dark Lord. In his interaction with Harry in the Chamber, Tom reveals his roots: he was born of the last descendant of Salazar Slytherin and a Muggle who didn't know what he was getting into until after he had married and impregnated the witch living on his estate (full disclosure: we don't know the nature of their relationship until later books.)
Once again we see the pieces of detail being planted for later, and we see the extent to which certain people have been involved in past events: Dumbledore's role at Hogwarts before becoming Headmaster, confirmation of the Malfoys' full allegiance to Voldemort, etc.
We also get to know Fawkes and the hidden power of the Sorting Hat, as well as becoming familiar with the Basilisk and all of its terrible powers.
I just started reading Prisoner of Azkaban and it is twelve kinds of awesome. While being an excellent book to begin with (so much mis-direction! so many layers!) it is also as though you can feel the momentum gathering for the coming storm. And what a storm it is.
7 July 2010
In Which We Talk About Harry Potter
Let me start by saying that if you've been living under a rock and are wary of Harry Potter spoilers, you might want to read on with caution. Let me also say that this is going to be an ongoing discussion due to my current "Harry Potter Marathon."
Disclosure disclosed? Awesome.
While I am sure that there are better fantasy series than Harry Potter (I'm not well read enough in that arena to have a properly formed opinion), I have a hard time believing that Harry doesn't at least rank in the top 10. Also, though I read Twilight and was enamored of it for a bit (before I really, really thought about what I had read), and I cannot argue its place in pop culture, I want to be very clear that there is no competition between Harry and Twilight. None. Not in quality of writing, not in quality of ideas, not in staying power over time. Saying that Twilight is in the same league as Harry Potter is like saying the Backstreet Boys belong in a conversation about the Beatles. It's just not going to happen.
Now that that's out of the way (you really don't want to get me started on a Twilight rant), I can say that over the weekend and to the consternation of Boy Scout, I finished Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.
Firstly, I was struck by the fact that, at the time I first read it (I was... 15? Maybe?), I thought Sorcerer's Stone was AMAZING. And it is. But it's almost laughable to read it now, knowing all of the amazingness that is to come. It's a light, almost breezy read filled with clues (Sirius Black leant Hagrid his motorcycle! Harry doesn't like hanging out with his scary cat lady neighbor! AHHHHHH), and it is most definitely "the introductory book." (Note to Stephenie Meyer: the books are supposed to get better as you go along. Not worse. See?)
It also struck me while reading The Sorcerer's Stone, and not for the first time, that the books mature with Harry. Now I'm not saying that J.K Rowling in any way dumbs down her language or her imagery or her writing for younger readers. What I'm saying is that the things that happen to 12-year-old Harry are scary and dangerous, but not too scary and dangerous for a 12-year-old. Rowling did an excellent job of growing the conflicts along with Harry. There are some emotional and traumatic events that occur in the first three books, but it's not until (SPOILER ALERT?) the death of Cedric Diggory that Rowling makes it known that all bets are off. Yes, these are ostensibly children's books. And no, thank you. There will be no punches pulled.
Part of the beautiful world that J.K. Rowling created in Potterverse is the fact there are consequences (I'm looking at you again, Ms. Meyer!). However, Rowling is kind enough not to force adult situations on a child who is just learning about who he is. Literally.
I would also like to say a word about Snape in this book (SPOILER ALERT for Boy Scout, apparently. However, I shall try to speak obliquely). His role is actually very minimal in this book, when you look at it. From the beginning he is trying to save Harry's life (remember Quirrel and the Quidditch match?) and from the very beginning, there is not a single person who thinks Snape is a danger to Harry. Of course it can't be said that he doesn't hold malice toward the boy, but it's sort of heart-breaking to know how the Snape felt about Lily Potter, and to see him do everything in his power to keep her son safe... whether he wants to or not. And it's Dumbledore himself who confirms for the first time that Snape was in school with James Potter (he makes no mention of Lily) and that "they hated each other." To me this deepens Snape's heroism-- nothing he did was for James or for Harry themselves. It was all for Lily.
So maybe that wasn't so oblique after all. Sorry, Scout.
Going back to a previous point, this speaks further to Rowling's abilities as a writer. She knew, even in the first book, that there was more to the greasey potions master than met the eye. But she knew that neither Harry nor his contemporary readers wanted or needed to see the man behind the curtain. That was for later, when everyone was ready.
(This is where I could talk about how knowing the end of your story at the beginning and planting seeds of growth along the way is a sign of a superior story-teller, but I won't go there. No. I won't. I won't say that adding details in the last 50 pages to lend relevence to your ending is lame. Nope. Won't do it... Shit.)
I guess I'm done for now. Be sure and come back next time for "In Which Harry Stabs a Big-Ass Basilisk with an Awesome Sword." No innuendo intended.
Disclosure disclosed? Awesome.
While I am sure that there are better fantasy series than Harry Potter (I'm not well read enough in that arena to have a properly formed opinion), I have a hard time believing that Harry doesn't at least rank in the top 10. Also, though I read Twilight and was enamored of it for a bit (before I really, really thought about what I had read), and I cannot argue its place in pop culture, I want to be very clear that there is no competition between Harry and Twilight. None. Not in quality of writing, not in quality of ideas, not in staying power over time. Saying that Twilight is in the same league as Harry Potter is like saying the Backstreet Boys belong in a conversation about the Beatles. It's just not going to happen.
Now that that's out of the way (you really don't want to get me started on a Twilight rant), I can say that over the weekend and to the consternation of Boy Scout, I finished Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.
Firstly, I was struck by the fact that, at the time I first read it (I was... 15? Maybe?), I thought Sorcerer's Stone was AMAZING. And it is. But it's almost laughable to read it now, knowing all of the amazingness that is to come. It's a light, almost breezy read filled with clues (Sirius Black leant Hagrid his motorcycle! Harry doesn't like hanging out with his scary cat lady neighbor! AHHHHHH), and it is most definitely "the introductory book." (Note to Stephenie Meyer: the books are supposed to get better as you go along. Not worse. See?)
It also struck me while reading The Sorcerer's Stone, and not for the first time, that the books mature with Harry. Now I'm not saying that J.K Rowling in any way dumbs down her language or her imagery or her writing for younger readers. What I'm saying is that the things that happen to 12-year-old Harry are scary and dangerous, but not too scary and dangerous for a 12-year-old. Rowling did an excellent job of growing the conflicts along with Harry. There are some emotional and traumatic events that occur in the first three books, but it's not until (SPOILER ALERT?) the death of Cedric Diggory that Rowling makes it known that all bets are off. Yes, these are ostensibly children's books. And no, thank you. There will be no punches pulled.
Part of the beautiful world that J.K. Rowling created in Potterverse is the fact there are consequences (I'm looking at you again, Ms. Meyer!). However, Rowling is kind enough not to force adult situations on a child who is just learning about who he is. Literally.
I would also like to say a word about Snape in this book (SPOILER ALERT for Boy Scout, apparently. However, I shall try to speak obliquely). His role is actually very minimal in this book, when you look at it. From the beginning he is trying to save Harry's life (remember Quirrel and the Quidditch match?) and from the very beginning, there is not a single person who thinks Snape is a danger to Harry. Of course it can't be said that he doesn't hold malice toward the boy, but it's sort of heart-breaking to know how the Snape felt about Lily Potter, and to see him do everything in his power to keep her son safe... whether he wants to or not. And it's Dumbledore himself who confirms for the first time that Snape was in school with James Potter (he makes no mention of Lily) and that "they hated each other." To me this deepens Snape's heroism-- nothing he did was for James or for Harry themselves. It was all for Lily.
So maybe that wasn't so oblique after all. Sorry, Scout.
Going back to a previous point, this speaks further to Rowling's abilities as a writer. She knew, even in the first book, that there was more to the greasey potions master than met the eye. But she knew that neither Harry nor his contemporary readers wanted or needed to see the man behind the curtain. That was for later, when everyone was ready.
(This is where I could talk about how knowing the end of your story at the beginning and planting seeds of growth along the way is a sign of a superior story-teller, but I won't go there. No. I won't. I won't say that adding details in the last 50 pages to lend relevence to your ending is lame. Nope. Won't do it... Shit.)
I guess I'm done for now. Be sure and come back next time for "In Which Harry Stabs a Big-Ass Basilisk with an Awesome Sword." No innuendo intended.
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