By Patrick O'Hannigan on 7.28.09 @ 6:06AM
J.K. Rowling is not a hack, and should not be treated like one.
In an essay for the New York Post published on the
opening weekend of the film Harry Potter and the Half-Blood
Prince, Kyle Smith
thumped the teenage wizard and his creator more than either
deserved. "Is there any children's writer more dismissive of
morals?" he asked sneeringly of J.K. Rowling. Having followed the
careers of the better-known students at Hogwarts as closely as
the rest of us, Smith concluded that, "A Rowling kid starts
learning at an early age that principles are adjustable depending
on convenience."
"Rowling ignores ethics to the point of encouraging dishonorable
behavior," Smith continued. He was particularly irate because
Harry spends the new movie "cheating out of a textbook that has
all the answers written in the margins." Worse, says Smith, "his
punishment for this is . . . nothing."
The obvious first impulse is to tell Smith to lighten up, but the
case he makes is interesting even though things fly apart; the
center cannot hold.
Consider, for example, Smith's assertion that J.K. Rowling's
writing is "dreary." By that he means that her characters are
one-dimensional, and her exposition of plot points happens in
paragraph-heavy dialogue when Harry and his friends brief each
other on events. Certainly Rowling does not have William
Goldman's Princess Bride touch ("Let me explain. No,
there is too much. Let me sum up…"). But few people have
Goldman's touch. And several prominent
critics, including thriller writer
Stephen King, count themselves among her fans. Moreover,
Rowling's craftsmanship has grown. She writes with more assurance
now than she did seven books ago, when her first Harry Potter
story became a publishing sensation.
In other words, J.K. Rowling is not a hack, and should not
be treated like one.
Smith thinks Harry Potter goes unpunished for using an annotated
textbook. That tells me he paid no attention to Harry's angst,
and missed the significance of what happens to Harry's mentor
when the teenager solves a mystery central to the new film.
Punishment can come in various forms. That some Hogwarts faculty
members treat Harry with kid gloves does not mean his opponents
do.
Moreover, as a friend with more time in academia observes,
Smith's indignation is disproportionate to anything Harry
actually does. Smith scorns the whole market for used textbooks.
Movie-goers may remember that at the start of the Potions class
where Harry and his friend Ron vie with each other for books,
Harry claims the only advanced edition by dint of quicker
reflexes; he does not then know that the textbook includes notes
made by a former student.
To suggest that Rowling's characters are amoral, Smith must
ignore things like a conversation in Half-Blood
Prince between Harry and Hermione, after each accuses
the other of casting furtive spells to affect the outcome of a
quidditch match. Had Rowling been cheerleading for untrammeled
power, she would not have had Hermione defend her own conduct by
making a distinction between practices and games.
That is a weak argument, as Smith would doubtless point out, but
it also shows allegedly amoral wizards appealing explicitly to
moral justification for their actions. Yet Smith is unwilling to
grant any quarter:
"If the Potter books are about nothing except childish good vs.
childish evil (and they are), then they amount to a cosmic
quidditch match," he says. "There's not a lot of suspense about
who will win, why they should, or what it all means."
Consequently, "All the pleasure for the reader is in the how --
the vacuous, disposable, inconsequential how," Smith declares.
Shall we parse that assertion? Smith concedes that the Harry
Potter stories please many people; his argument is that those
pleasures are trivial. Pay too much attention to doings at
Hogwarts, he implies, and you'll be sorry.
In an echo of the song lyric about how "Some people claim that
there's a woman to blame," Smith faults J.K. Rowling for giving
Harry Potter a small-scale rather than epic life. This
is not a Harry to sit astride a horse, encouraging men to battle
on St. Crispin's or any other day. Perhaps the scar on his head
is not prominent enough? Smith also accuses Harry and his young
friends of amorality. In any normal calculus, that would be an
adult failing, yet by a curious irony, the evils that Harry
confronts are "childish" -- or so says Smith, anyway. The adults
with whom Harry interacts do not think of Harry's adventures that
way.
If using some Rowling characters to defend others seems too much
of a stretch, we can turn instead to J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of
the Rings" trilogy. His characters wipe hers off the board in any
fantasy chess match, but there are lessons to be learned when you
take both stories on their own terms.
Think, for example, about Galadriel and Hermione as played by
actresses Cate Blanchett and Emma Watson: Galadriel is an elf
queen who knows her epoch is passing; of course she
makes more of an impression than Hermione, a young woman still
wrestling with her own insecurities. That Frodo the Hobbit is
more fully developed than Harry Potter is also not surprising.
Anyone with the fate of the world on his shoulders has more to
worry about than a boy whose biggest decision is to stop running
from and start chasing the wizard who killed his parents.
That said, it is uncharitable to punish Rowling for setting her
sights lower than Tolkien, or to assert, as Smith does, that
whimsical creations and narrative pull are "all Rowling offers,"
because "the Potter tales are built on nothing."
Message owl to Mr. Smith: You forgave L. Frank Baum for the
flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz, and praised Willy
Wonka for a "near-biblical" treatment of sin. Don't overplay your
hand here. Ignore Rowling's prep school setting, fantastic
animals, and turbocharged brooms. Look past goofy Ron and
wonderfully quirky Luna: The Harry Potter stories grapple with
loyalty, honor, and injustice, in entertaining ways that make
surprising numbers of younger children think.
J.K. Rowling's work, far from being dreary or dangerous, has
merit. Despite his youth and his status as "the chosen one,"
Harry is not one of those characters that blur the lines between
fantasy and reality for politicians. Had J.K. Rowling written
exclusively about the boy wizard and his wand, I'd worry about
her lessons for our president and his teleprompter, but Rowling
never narrows her focus that much. As Ron and Hermione remind
their friend near the end of the current movie, "you need us."
One might even call those plucky students and their allies
"conservative" in the best sense of the word. Rowling's good guys
have no desire to oppress the "Muggle-born" or treat the Ministry
of Magic with contempt. They revere Hogwarts traditions even when
sometimes breaking them. The bad guys, on the other hand, are
caste- and race-conscious wizards. From Voldemort on down, they
comprise a band of evildoers bent on tyrannizing other
people -- and that redounds to Rowling's credit.
I prefer broadswords to wands myself, but Harry Potter and
the Half-Blood Prince is a winner. Rowling owes the
rest of us no apologies.
topics:
Harry Potter