I have pretty much failed at my attempt to read all the Harry Potter books in one month. I blame January for this. So far 2014 sucks. A lot. Like a proper lot. Yesterday at the suckiest point, however, I kind of decided “fuck it – I’m taking a reading day” which is the only reason I actually managed to get through the fourth book at all. If I have a “worst” of the Harry Potter novels it’s this one. Perhaps because I am hardly one for organized sport? And perhaps because this one is a little long. Of course the “worst” of the Potter novels still surpasses the best of many others, so it is hardly a complaint when I call it so. What I did particularly like about this one is that life-angst kind of starts to come through on a very real level. Relatable humanity if you can call it that. All three of our young heroes start to experience the real frustrations of growing up. The dynamics between the two sexes start to shift. The agony of self consciousness. Jealousy. Self doubt. All those things which plague us as children and then intensify as we grow up. Hermione starts to become concerned with the livelihood of house elves – a concern that no one seems to share. This is where Hermione can truly be admired as a heroine worth looking up to. She holds on to her convictions despite not only the indifference of her closest friends but often despite their active annoyance. She is not only clever in a book-smart sort of way but she is wise as well.
Time travel stresses me out. This is ridiculous I know, but it always has. It is one of those things that I have never felt capable of grasping. Funny enough, Doctor Who has recently become my All Time favourite thing, but for some reason The Doctor doesn’t mess with my head quite like most time travel stuff does. I think after reading this book and watching the movie again I am starting to feel more confident about it. That whole “the present makes room for time travel” thing kind of fits for me now (maybe Doctor Who helped?) although I am sure I couldn’t explain it to my grandmother….which according to Einstein means I don’t really understand it enough. But yeah whatever. I devoured this book ages ago and am only getting around to reviewing it now. A grave mistake on my part because all I can remember from the experience is the whole time travel clicking thing. I did, once again, find myself thinking that despite my unending adoration for Emma Thompson, she was badly cast as Professor Trelawney (excuse the spelling if it is incorrect, I can’t be bothered to check right now but I am almost positive that it’s right). Usually I am not bothered by things such as casting. That is someone else’s job. But when it comes to the divinations teacher I cannot get my own picture of her out of my head. She never arrives in my mind as the frizzy haired Ms. Thompson. She is more understated. Barmy, of course. But not ridiculous. I feel exactly the same way about Mad-Eye Moody in The Goblet of Fire. Perhaps I take all of this a little too seriously?
So I suppose I should be embarrassed to admit that I cried through the entire last book of the Harry Potter series. Actually – I cried when Syrius died. And Cedric. And when Dumbledore died. But mostly I cried when Fred died. Throughout the entire Harry series I loved those two. they were my favourites. My favourite of the series is book five. I laughed until the tears were falling down my face when those two turned the school into a swamp. So much of the gloriousness that is those two characters is lost in the movies. I am planning to re-read the entire series again over the December holidays. I’m really looking forward to it. Now if I can just find somewhere cheap and remote to hide away while I do so….