Skip to main content

On Harry Potter

Alison Lurie, famed Key West novelist and winner of a Pulitzer Prize (and mentor of Lorrie Moore), has now published a book of her essays, "Words and Worlds." Lurie must be close to ninety years of age--perhaps older.

One side-interest of Lurie's is children's literature, and "Words and Worlds" is especially fun because of the insights it offers about great books-for-kids. For example:

*The epilogue of the final Harry Potter volume feels like a betrayal because--by speeding nineteen years ahead and showing Harry as a fairly complacent middle-aged bourgeois man--Rowling suggests that really very little of interest could have happened to Harry between adolescence and middle age. (Lurie also hints that killing off Harry--permanently--may have been the right way to go.)

*An aspect of Harry Potter that puzzles Lurie: If Voldemort is so physically and spiritually ghastly, why would so many people and creatures follow him? Often, a villain is at least physically dashing; his popularity can be explained in part by his fetching figure and his charisma. Voldemort is hideous. Why make him this way?

*Lurie thinks the Bluebeard legend can be read, today, as a cautionary tale about looking too deeply into your new lover's past. With people marrying late into middle age, it's maybe best not to ask too many questions about a partner's dating history. (I'm not sure I agree.)

*Lurie wonders why Aslan, in Narnia, should be a lion. If he's a Christ figure, wouldn't a shaggy donkey or starving goat be more appropriate?

*Lurie sees, in "Rapunzel," a parable about adoption. In some versions of Rapunzel, the Witch is something like a heroine. At the very least, the Witch has given Rapunzel a home.

*Lurie emphasizes how important it is--in a kids' tale--to have the hero leave home, encounter his/her adventures, then return to the hearth. The idea of leaving home is crucial because, if the hero stays home, then parents intervene. You want the parents out of the picture. Maile Meloy encountered this issue, in her "Apothecary" novels, because she had wanted to draft lovable, sensible parents. Kids would approach Meloy and say: "Why can't you just kill off the mom and dad?" Sometimes conventions are conventions for a reason.

If you love kids' lit--and/or smart, observant writing--then Lurie's book is a must. Pure pleasure, at least so far!

(P.S. Yes, the baby is coming. Very likely today. Stay tuned!)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...