The interesting thing about DH was how it broke my heart in a million wonderful ways, while failing to break it where I would have suspected it to be the whole
point of the story to break it, in order to immerse me in the book's main storylines of tragedy. Such as the Dobby funeral and the Harry suicide... The former of which didn't move me one iota because I was too busy trying not to puke at the fact that the story had just a) killed the freed slave with his selfless rescue impulse bourn out of his inexplicably unconditional adoration of a member of the enslaving race, and b) started telling me incessantly that we're supposed to see the privileged-race beneficiary of this sacrifice
digging a tiny grave hole with his own hands, without relying on a power shovel, to be this super-considerate, unimaginably noble, wonderful payment for the wretched creature's
death. And the latter of which, the Harry horcrux destruction, 1) had been speculated in numerous fanfics already, 2) didn't seem like such a horrible thing (despite the fact that it by rights
should have been) if the boy's own
mother was suddenly happily endorsing this course of action... And, above all else, that particular heartbreak 3) paled in comparison into nothingness, for me, who was in the middle of screaming at the utter wrongness of the string of facts that had just been revealed in the same scene -- i.e. how Snape had had to live his whole life
and die in such misery, for mostly circumstantial reasons as opposed to any inexcusable, healthily-educated and well-informed choices on his part.
So that's the thing about DH. I still don't know if this makes the whole series an utter failure as a piece of literature (I
would venture my humble opinion that it makes it an utter misfit for something to be sold as a series of books targeted for
children, framed for them as a
fantasy adventure with straightforward moral messages), or if it makes it a brilliantly innovative piece of postmodern, deconstructive fairytale, regardless of how any of these things in the tale ended up being the way they are... (Because who cares, really, whether the author of this story
intended for it to be one thing or another? We all know she's just about the only fanatical adult fan of her creation that still believes, in this day and age, that its author would still be
alive.) But the question of whether it's a good thing or a bad thing aside, I think that there's one thing that remains incontrovertible: the real drama of the Harry Potter story -- IMO virtually
all of the real, fresh, mind-blowingly tragic and beautiful dramas of this story -- happened either completely off stage, or right at the corner of our peripheral vision.
Yet they happened. And we have all the clues necessary to reconstitute them into the downright operatic melodrama that they truly are.
( So we shall, shall we not? Because boy, how can anyone with a functioning soul NOT feel sorry for all those characters in HP that suffered the misfortune of being situated exactly where they were? )*ETA: In this post I failed to discuss Petunia's abuse of Harry in any substantial way, as my focus was on uncovering the aspects of her character that
weren't narratively put under the spotlight. Many commenting have voiced how they have a fundamental problem with seeing someone who abuses a child as a "hero," no matter what tragedy she may have come through. And I tend to agree, at least when it comes to realistic thoughts on actual human beings. Meanwhile,
static_pixie has
pointed out how Petunia's character is simply impossible to rationalize as a consistent portrayal of an actual human being. These fen's insights have allowed me to start thinking more about her character by shifting my focus this time onto her
character-trait coherency, and what I've come up with is an out-there hypothesis of her as a nightmarishly misrepresented character. It can be read here on my journal if you would like:
Some whacked-out thoughts on Snape and PetuniaI would, however, warn you that it's kind of dark as insinuation goes.