April 3, 2015- National Monthly Journal Challenge

Bits and Pieces

My comments (below), on Harry Potter , are based on the reading of the first book, the movie series, and subsequent public comments about the characters by J.K. Rowling, the creator of the series.

In the end, exciting as the saga is, it has a bit of a disappointing end. With all their unique gifts, the character end up with numbingly normal lives. If I’m remembering correctly, the surviving Weasley twin spends his days running a joke shop, and Hermione, perhaps the most gifted, ends up a stay at home mother of a passel of kids. Harry Potter himself ends as a teacher, but before that, serves as a bureaucrat. Nobody ends up in any artistic (writer, painter, actor, etc.) endeavor, far as I can see. Everybody is a typically middle-class English citizen. Was middle-class existence somehow Rowling’s point? It was a waste of a perfectly plausible fantasy, if that WAS the point.

Fantasy should, in my unschooled opinion, be larger than reality. I’m not saying that fantasy needs always have a happy ending. J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, for example, has a mixed bag ending. Sam comes home to domesticity, but the Shire has known evil, the elves are forced to leave Middle-earth, a place they love, and Frodo goes with them, burdened by the loss of the Ring. The end of the story is more bitter than sweet; no one, or thing, comes through unchanged. Only Sam seems to escape a fundamental blighting.

Which causes me to reflect on the fact that in the Harry Potter world, the muggles, the vast majority of the population, are, with a few exceptions, unaware of the magic world around them and have no understanding that what could happen in the magic world, could affect/effect them. It reminds me a little of the people in my country who remain ignorant of the politics and ideas surrounding them. The difference is that the muggles in Harry Potter’s world have no choice. In the real world, especially in America, ignorance is a choice.


It’s Passover/Easter weekend. The temperature, as posted, is 72 degrees, but it feels like 40 degrees. There are rumors of snow for the weekend.
Of course I am wishing it were warmer. Spring weather seems to be annoyingly tardy and I am impatiently waiting for, at least, the time when I can exchange a heavy coat for a lighter sweater. The only thing to which I’m looking forward is that my sister will take me out to lunch, on Easter. I don’t care where she takes me. I just need to get out of here.

And the pool is now dry.


About elrondsilvermaul

I never know what to say about myself. I let what I write try to speak as to who I am. I can only add, here, that I am 72, live in a nursing home, am twenty years a cancer survivor, and identify as a gay male. I intend to use this blog as storage for poems? written over the long years (and still being written). This does not preclude other uses.
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