Getting Into: the Harry Potter books
Discovering the magic of the books, two decades later.
By Scott Rayner
Reading entire books wasn’t something my childhood self could accomplish in 1997. Easily distracted by video games, TV, and other books to start reading (then give up on), I wasn’t winning any reading awards at school. Suffice it to say the global phenomenon that was ‘The Philosopher’s Stone’ slipped past me when the world was first introduced to Harry Potter in the summer of ‘97.
Honestly, I’m not sure how much I knew about the world of Hogwarts by the time the series’ first film arrived in 2001. Aside from the fact that they were children’s books, which I was way too old for, and I didn’t like them. Harry Potter, the kid with the not-cool-looking big glasses standing by a train, nope. Of course, this terrible and uneducated attitude was not at all helped by the other wizard-themed thing happening at the time: ‘The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring’, was also arriving in cinemas.
This only solidified my feelings towards JK Rowling’s fantasy world; it was childish, while LOTR was both serious and amazing. Having not read Tolkien’s work properly at that age (the Hobbit was provided to me via the 90’s kid’s audible app - a parent’s bedtime story), I was basing this mainly on the ‘Fellowship’ film. Potter’s chances here were not aided by the fact that ‘Fellowship’ turned out a triumph of both adaptation and cinema, while the sentiment towards the first Potter film was not quite so glowing. This way of thinking remained cemented in my mind for twenty years. Curiosity, however, had built in conjunction with propaganda from family members. “The books are so much better than the films”, I was told. At long last, I decided to find out. With the ‘Philosopher’s Stone’ downloaded onto a Kindle, two decades later, I sought to (with an open mind) base my Harry Potter opinions on having, you know, actually read it.
Long story short: I’m in Ravenclaw now.
To expand on that a little, it turned out the books are good. And not only was my attitude towards Potter unfair, but it was also misplaced. While reading the first book, I found that the thing I’d resented about the series the most (that it centred on children) became one of its most compelling elements. This isn’t to say I connected with protagonist Harry (far from it), but rather with how much it tapped into the feeling of being at school - in a rose-tinted fantasy way - and drew on all kinds of nostalgia to make both Hogwarts and being at that possibility-filled age so rich and full of wonder.
Uncovering charms
Nostalgia aside, I found the second key of this to be the quality of depth of the “Wizarding World” itself. The school I attended as a child may not have been within a magical castle, but it was an old building. One which had large and looming paintings filled with generations of students’ rumours and lore of how their featured portraits moved to other parts of the painting (all true). Along with the uniforms, prefect badges, house names and general English school clichés (which Rowling certainly mined for Hogwarts development), I gradually found myself experiencing the warm, excited feeling that Potter fans have known for years: that Hogwarts itself is a character. Not to mention a place I wish existed. The history and lore it’s built on, the characters which fill its Great halls and dungeons, and never-ending secrets are just the beginning of making Hogwarts such a special, meaningful place.
And while The Philosopher’s Stone may not be the series’ best, it achieves one thing brilliantly: establishing a unique, colourfully dark, and quirky world. It’s one that can never run out of secrets or new ideas; magic, after all.
Perhaps there truly is something magical about Hogwarts and the world of Harry Potter. Going into the entire book series as an adult - decades after it’s been woven into the fabric of popular culture - I was struck by a few things for which magic seems the only explanation.
More than the sum of its magical parts
Do you like Harry Potter? Which house are you in? Those are likely to be the two back-to-back questions every fan has ever asked another human being. I knew going in that which house you belonged to was a big deal. My discovery then, that the books are told from a complete Gryffindor perspective - with little to no information about the other houses - made it so surprising to know people genuinely care for the other three houses. There’s certainly very little in the books to make being in anything other than Gryffindor desirable. And yet, fans love it (case and point above with my Ravenclaw pronouncement). How much of that is a happy accident, I’m not sure. But it’s certainly a magical result, one that strengthens the relationship between reader and source material for life. Going to wizardingworld.com and using the sorting hat to find your house helps to make you feel a part of the Potter world. It gives you a sense of identity, community, and access to a fictional universe not only when reading the books or watching the films, but in a tangible way. It’s an IP marketing department’s dream, but who cares, as it feels like you have ownership over a part of the Potter world.
The (angry) boy who lived
The absence of nostalgia provides a certain perspective when reading the series long after its release. Harry doesn’t have an easy ride in life (to say the least). Yet finding him often portrayed so angrily (if not violently) was surprising, being that it is his eyes we are asked to look through. Issues usually get sorted out by the end of the day, Harry recognising when he’s been wrong, and so forth. Yet it’s interesting how many young people connect with him as this trait develops throughout the books.
Hermione’s character, however, provided a very different reaction. With a bias from my basic knowledge of the films that she may be an annoying character (whether writing or performance), it was pleasant to discover - well before the end of ‘Philosopher’s Stone’ - that she was easily my favourite of the main protagonists. Harry being a bit too angry for me and Ron being a bit stupid aside, one strong reason led to this attachment: she is the only person who uses magic she has learnt to solve problems. There’s more to it than that (she’s always right and many steps ahead of the others), but it turned out that actual magic use at the magic school sealed the deal for me.
So, it’s magic again that makes the series truly work. Even what could be critiqued as a repetitive formula: each book starting at Privet Drive, taking you through the school year, same location, etc, all this works because of its relatable foundation. Going back to school each September, having challenges in your new year group, the teachers, homework, and your dynamics with other children changing - these are things which almost anyone picking up a Potter book could relate to. Whether that’s nostalgia for me or a more fantastical version of school a child reading the books can imagine experiencing - there’s a varied entry point to Harry Potter for almost anyone. For a series filled with spells and jinxes, perhaps this truly is the most powerful charm in Harry Potter.