Tag: J.K. Rowling

Posted on

Fantastic Tales

Beware the dragons. Watch out for the trolls. And always remember that heroes may be hazardous to your health.

Not your usual prescription, I grant you. But it’s apparently second nature to Graeme Whiting, an English headmaster who made international headlines when he declared that fantasy fiction would rot your child’s mind.

No, I’m not overstating it. Kind of hard to, really.

“Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones, The Hunger Games, and Terry Pratchett, to mention only a few of the modern world’s ‘must-haves’, contain deeply insensitive and addictive material which I am certain encourages difficult behaviour in children,” Whiting wrote as part of a lengthy blog post on his school’s website, “yet they can be bought without a special licence, and can damage the sensitive subconscious brains of young children, many of whom may be added to the current statistics of mentally ill young children.”

You might be surprised to learn that he and I agree on exactly one thing: Parents should pay attention to what their children read. Books do indeed open doors onto many places, and every parent should know where their child is spending their time, whether it’s in the park or in the Shire.

But fantasy can open some wonderful doors indeed.

I’m not writing to disparage the more classic works that Mr. Whiting himself loves and encourages for a growing mind, such as Shakespeare or Dickens, which were also part of my reading. Enough so that I’m a bit amused. After all, Dickens was long considered popular trash by lovers of “proper literature” and as for Master Shakespeare – well, whose life couldn’t use a dose of teen marriage and suicide (Romeo and Juliet), eye-gouging (King Lear), witchcraft (Macbeth), and rape and mutilation (Titus Andronicus), with just a sprinkling of cross-dressing and humiliation of authority (Twelfth Night)?

Sure, they’re wonderful – dare I say magical? – stories. But safe? C.S. Lewis once warned visitors to Narnia that the great Aslan was “not a tame lion” and if a story has any power to it at all, it can never be considered a “safe story.” When books meet brains, anything can happen. Anything at all.

Stories have a power that the great authors of fantasy knew quite well.

“Not the Gandalf who was responsible for so many quiet lads and lasses going off into the Blue for mad adventures?” the hobbit Bilbo Baggins declares in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit. Tolkien has been my own Gandalf since about third grade, leading my imagination into places both terrifying and wonderful – as have many of the fantasy authors who followed in his wake. My family and I have cheered on Harry Potter, wandered with Taran and Eilonwy, leaped through wrinkles in time, and stumbled through wardrobes into unexpected worlds.

You acquire many things on a quest like that. Beautiful language. Heartbreak and hope. A decidedly quirky strain of humor. And most of all, the realization that evils can not only be survived, they can be overcome.

“Fairy tales do not give the child his first idea of bogey,” G.K. Chesterton famously wrote in 1909. “What fairy tales give the child is his first clear idea of the possible defeat of bogey. The baby has known the dragon intimately ever since he had an imagination. What the fairy tale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon.”

No, stories aren’t safe. Few things worth having are. But they can be priceless.

So yes, have a hand in your child’s reading. Be careful. Be aware. But be open to wonder as well. And don’t fear the dragons.

After all, that is where the treasure is to be found.

Posted on

Gone To Potter – And Thank Goodness

“No story lives unless someone wants to listen.” – J.K. Rowling, 2011.

Don’t look now, but Harry Potter may just save the world.

OK, granted, he’s famous for doing that. I’m intimately familiar with the battles of England’s favorite boy wizard against the forces of Voldemort. I’ve cheered him on as he raised his wand against evil, selfishness and – most frightening of all – government bureaucracy.

But I’m not talking about the fictional confines of Harry’s hidden magical universe. I’m talking right here. Right now.

Or at least, that’s what Anthony Gierzynski is saying.

Gierzynski is the author of “Harry Potter and the Millennials,” a political science book that looks at the children who grew up among tales of Hogwarts and now make up a young voting bloc of their own.

What sort of voters? That’s the interesting part. Based on Gierzynski’s studies, the millennials who grew up reading the Potter books were more likely to be tolerant of differences and less likely to support using deadly force or torture; more likely to be politically active and less likely to be authoritarian.

In short, the sort of people we seem to need so much these days.

“I give Dobby most of the credit!” teased a friend.

Maybe so. Maybe there’s something to be said for an early exposure to Dobby, the fearful house-elf with an unlikely potential for heroism … or to a world where wizards’prejudices have visible consequences … or even to an orphaned boy who belongs to two worlds and sometimes feels out of place in both.

But proceed with caution. And not just because of the giant spiders.

Gierzynski himself warns that correlation may not be causation. For those not used to the difference (a majority, it seems, on the Internet), it works like this: After it rains, I go out and find the roof of my house is wet. But that doesn’t mean soaking my roof will make it rain.

Applied here, it means be careful which way you point the sign post. Sure, it might be that reading Harry Potter creates a tolerant, activist personality. But it could also be that people with tolerant, activist personalities were the most likely to read about him in the first place. Or even that it’s pure coincidence.

Either way, it gives me some hope.

Remember, Harry Potter books in their heyday were the most popular books in the world. At a time where the National Security Agency competes with online marketers to see who can make our lives the most transparent, when ideological differences repeatedly become hard-and-fast battle lines, when rights are treated like conveniences – well, it’s a little encouraging to know that a solid chunk of that record-breaking readership believes in a better way.

More, that they believe in fighting for one.

I know, it’s a long way from imagination to reality. But the way is there. And it’s a road that J.K. Rowling herself has been forcefully pointing to for a long time.

“The Potter books in general are a prolonged argument for tolerance, a prolonged plea for an end to bigotry and I think it’s one of the reasons that some people don’t like the books,” the author once said. “But I think it’s a very healthy message to pass on to younger people that you should question authority and you should not assume that the establishment or the press tells you all of the truth.”

Yes, it’s a story. A fiction. A dream.

But people who have a dream and the passion to see it through, for better or worse, have had an amazing impact on the world before. They will again.

Choose your dreams well.

That’s the magic that lasts.

Posted on

Accio Memories

It’s time again for the world to go to Potter. Just once more.

If you’ve been keeping track, you know the final Harry Potter movie debuts in London on Thursday. If you haven’t been keeping track but have small children, you likely know just how many days, hours, minutes and seconds remain until its local opening – with regular updates.

It’s the end of an era. A rather exciting one.

How often, after all, do kids spend  almost 15 years getting jazzed about a literary idol?

Yes, I’m a bit of a fan myself. I like J.K. Rowling’s combination of broad humor and tender heart. I like what she has to say about love, about friendship, about sacrifice and self-discovery.  I like how she takes the wish-fulfillment most adolescents have – this isn’t my real family, I was born to something special – and shows how even when it comes true, it’s not free.

But even if I’d never read a page, I think I would love her anyway.

I spent four years in college working in a bookstore. Among kids, our most popular books by far were the Goosebumps series, the juvenile horror series by R.L. Stine. They weren’t exactly great literature – OK, they were literary chewing gum – but they went off the shelves almost as quickly as they came in.

For that, I loved them.

You see, reading isn’t a natural instinct. It’s a trained habit. It requires a curious mix of impatience and dedication that’s almost foreign to a video-game mindset, the eagerness to dive through a story and the willingness to swim through a river of words to do it.

You have to get hooked. And over the last decade and a half, Ms. Rowling has been one of the best pushers in the business.

I used to direct summer Shakespeare in Kansas, with casts that had a heavy teen content. It was not unusual, when a performance weekend overlapped with a “release day,” to see half the cast backstage, plowing through a few more chapters of Hogwarts while waiting for their next entrance.

I didn’t mind. (Well, as long as no one missed their cue.) The passion had been freed. It was becoming a habit, even an addiction.  Seven hundred pages? All the better – more to read!

That was the real magic.

The books came to an end four years ago. The films, riding their success, are concluding now. But I hope the reflex that’s been trained over seven volumes and 4,175 pages won’t die. That the same eagerness that led children to fill bookstores at midnight (and resent spoilers dearly) will find its way into other works, other stories, other discoveries.

And I hope all of us can keep encouraging them. No delays. No stifling.

Just Harry up, already.