Alicia Polce
I was recently passing a leisurely hour with a few friends—good church-goers one and all. As the talk bubbled along, I almost let slip that I was eagerly awaiting the release of the next Harry Potter movie. At the last moment I bit my tongue, realizing this seemingly harmless comment might launch me into a serious debate and possibly put the state of my soul and the seriousness of my religious convictions in severe doubt.
Sound familiar? Well, I am quite sick of regularly dodging jabs and defending my enthusiasm for the Harry Potter series, especially among religious circles. I’ll gladly defend the poor, bespectacled boy from the ubiquitous slander and libel he has been pelted with, but it is becoming as tiresome and frustrating as Macbeth’s attempt to clean his hands—and, seemingly, as fruitless.
The criticism appears to focus mainly on the disturbing and graphic dealings with dark witchcraft in the book; and on the book’s portrayal of a good side to this world of witchcraft, which many see as insidious.
While these issues could be dealt with at great length, in short, a world filled with supernatural powers, which might be used for good or evil, is a hallowed tradition in fantasy and mythic literature. Even the innocuous Sleeping Beauty vividly depicts both the good, yet magical, fairy-godmothers, and also their evil and wicked counterpart, Maleficent—who uses those same magical powers for evil.
J. K. Rowling may commit a Miltonian sin in the detail with which she portrays the evil of her villains; but I would say she resists the temptation to sensationalize quite well and, unlike Milton, does not make her villains heroic or likable.
In fact, her detail is quite Christian and doesn’t shy away from drawing sharp and even philosophic lines between good and evil. One sees this in Book 6 especially, where she describes Harry’s power as stemming from his “ability to love” and Voldermort’s evil as caused by a “splitting in his soul” that is “against nature” and “beyond what one might call ‘usual evil.’”
The books, then, are not “children’s literature”—just as Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy isn’t (as he himself wrote). Rowling’s books progressively grow more intense as each delves more deeply into the nature of and the struggle between good and evil. Therefore, parents and teachers ought to be more cautious and avoid the recent trend of labeling them as material for children. This mis-categorization is perhaps at fault for causing many of the critical objections to the books.
But what the critics in their fear continually miss is the deep truths and symbolism found by the discerning reader in Harry Potter. The Muggles—non-magical folk—are described as those who are unaware and almost willfully blind to all the supernatural, magical goings on in the world around them. Those who are confronted with the wizard-world — like Harry’s aunt and uncle—resent its magic, because magic is beyond their control and disturbs their predictable world.
This could be a beautiful metaphor if we consider that Christians are those who should be looking for the supernatural in the midst of the natural that surrounds them.
There are also several characters whose immediate use in the novel seems elusive; yet headmaster Dumbledore patiently tolerates such characters with joviality bordering on humility. He realizes that there is a plan unfolding that he doesn’t completely understand, and he does not try to control things by jettisoning such misfit characters from Hogwarts. These characters often end up crucially impacting the books’ action later.
This theme seems reminiscent of our belief as Christians that each person has value and a role to play in Christ’s plan—even, and often especially, the least and most unlikely person.
True, Harry Potter will most likely never find a place in modern literary anthologies: The prose is not arresting, and I have seldom found myself re-reading a sentence for the mere beauty or rhythm of it, although Rowling’s word choice is delightful.
But Rowling’s series is worth defending because it is an encouraging break from the trends of modern fiction. It is a fairy story in the true sense, and this genre has been sadly and disturbingly silent—or just embarrassing—of late. It is rooted in the classics and is rampant with deeply Christian symbolism if Christians would only give it a sustained glance.
I think Christians especially need to be careful not to condemn or dismiss this series. Wondering at the magic and myth of it may help us even become less “Muggle-esque” in our own lives—shunning the profound, mysterious, fathomless quality of our faith while clinging pridefully and fearfully instead, only to that which can be understood, seen, explained, grasped or safely defined.
Think about giving Harry Potter a chance.
Polce is a Hillsdale College senior majoring in English.