The Cursed Child

Serpensortia.

This post is the second of two parts. The first was a general overview of my thoughts on Harry Potter, and my own house, wand1, Patronus and so on. I talked about two of the three ways in which the series’ legacy lives on.

This post will focus on the third. The eighth and, supposedly, final story.

Full spoilers to follow.

So. I’m in Slytherin. Still coming to terms with that, but I can’t deny that the whole aura of darkness2 appeals to me. I never was afraid of snakes.

But that’s a rather one-sided view. As I noted last time, Slytherins are painted black in the main series. At most, there are shades of grey.

*sighs* No, not fifty. 

Perhaps Harry was an unreliable narrator. I mean, he doesn’t narrate. But we see the world through his eyes. With all the grief Slytherins gave him over the years, it’s no wonder he’d be biased.

More likely, Rowling simply wanted them to be the bad guys. Main characters like Draco and Snape are nuanced, but let’s be fair. These are books about Gryffindors. The other houses serve as contrast and competition. Developing them further was outside the purview of the story. It’s not like we see a lot about Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, either.

Clearly, the makers were aware of this. The eighth story takes things in a different direction. This time our heroes are not in Gryffindor.

They’re in Slytherin.

First and foremost, Cursed Child is not a novel. It’s a play. Showing in London, where the vast majority of fans are never going to see it. Releasing the script for said play is the solution. An imperfect solution, but there you have it.

Nineteen years after Deathly Hallows, the happily-ever-after is revealed to be, well, not so happy. Harry Potter is now the beleaguered Head of Magical Law Enforcement. A stone-cold Ministry man, he’s called at one point.

Harry’s second son, Albus Severus, has grown up in his father’s shadow. Scorpius Malfoy, the sheltered son Draco hid away for years, is rumoured to be Voldemort’s child in truth. No surprise when Scorpius is Sorted into Slytherin. It’s a huge shock when Albus joins him. The son of Harry Potter, in Slytherin. Albus is a troubled boy, miserable at Hogwarts, resenting the weight of his father’s legacy. Scorpius is his only friend. 

Using a stolen Time-Turner, the pair undertake a reckless journey through time to right the wrongs of Harry’s past and save Cedric Diggory. But changing the past is not without consequences. Meanwhile, Harry and Draco are forced to admit that trying to protect their sons from old pains has only given the boys new problems here and now.

You can see how legacies are a major theme. Albus, Scorpius, and the villain, the daughter of Voldemort, are each burdened by their fathers’ pasts. It’s never made clear who the child from the title is. Perhaps all three of them are cursed.

Cursed Child has been compared to fan-fiction. It’s not hard to see why. This is a story of roads not traveled. Scenes from earlier books are rehashed and examined anew, as Albus and Scorpius jump from timeline to timeline, between intriguingly non-canon scenarios. Except they are canon. But not canon canon. Does your head hurt yet?

There’s a whole lot of what-if going on here. What if Cedric never got to that maze with Harry? What if Ron and Hermione never fell in love? What if Voldemort won the Battle of Hogwarts?

What if, their first time on the Hogwarts Express, Harry and Draco became friends?

Well, no, that would have been quite different. Draco was an arrogant little insert-four-letter-word-here; Scorpius is anything but. I’ll get to him later.

All this jumping around does give us new perspective on the series. Snape’s return in the Darkest Timeline was one of my favorite parts. Even after Harry’s death, with Voldemort in power for decades, he, Ron and Hermione still kept the resistance alive. For all his unpleasantness, it cemented him being a good person at heart – deep down, anyway.

And the part where he kills Umbridge was extremely gratifying. There’s a scene in Order of the Phoenix where they face off, the two people Harry hated most in the world; he couldn’t decide who he wanted to win. I wanted Snape to win.

Yes, I read the lines in Alan Rickman’s voice. He will be missed.

1946 - 2016.

It’s not just the alternate timelines, either. Near the end, adult Harry speaks with Dumbledore’s portrait, admitting that he’s been as poor a father to Albus as Dumbledore was to him. Mind blown. Of course Harry looked up to Dumbledore as a mentor, guardian and role model. But as a father figure? I thought back and realized: of course he was.

Having said that. Acknowledging the relationship is one thing. Harry and the portrait saying they loved each other was a bit much.

Maybe it’s just my inner guy-ness. At times, I felt uncomfortable with Albus and Scorpius, too. This kind of close male friendship is outside my experience. They are close. Both are outcasts at Hogwarts. All they have is each other, and it shows. They depend on each other. They share their feelings. They hug.

And they complement one another. With his daddy issues, Albus soon seemed perfect for Slytherin. I couldn’t figure out what Scorpius was doing there. A pureblood, sure. But he was so nice. Not angry or manipulative. I thought he was written in just to be a foil for Albus.

Until that part where he convinced everyone, even Albus, that he’d lost the Time-Turner in the lake. On the spot, with a straight face. That was good acting. I was impressed.

Huh. Maybe I really do belong in Slytherin.

Ahem.

Scorpius Malfoy is the best part of Cursed Child. He’s funny, awkward, introverted, a bookworm. He’s a lonely boy, and stays optimistic despite it. He is absolutely the most original character. The story needs him.

Because at the end of the day, Cursed Child is not an original story. This eighth tale is largely a tribute to the previous seven. The ending loops back to the very beginning, with adult Harry watching his parents being killed yet again. (And having a melodramatic reaction at that.) Each of the main novels stands on its own merits. Does Cursed Child stand on its own? I’m not so sure.

Then again, that’s not a fair comparison. Cursed Child is not a novel. It’s a play. A completely different medium. The script alone is the barest of bare-bones translations. There are hints of what it’s really like in the stage directions. Live actors (duh). Transforming set pieces. Black-cloaked Dementors who rise up amidst the audience and converge on the stage.

If it was a novel, there’d be room for so much more detail. Descriptions, backstories. Exposition not told through dialogue. Explanations for questionable plot twists3. Development for minor characters. As far as I could tell, Albus' older brother, James, is a mischievous cool kid, just like his namesake. His little sister, Lily, is a girl. Really, that’s all I got.

So where does that leave us?

Neither a novel nor the play itself, the Cursed Child script book is something of a middle child, just like Albus. Don’t go into this expecting too much. It doesn’t live up to the series’ legacy.

But it is a fun read nonetheless. Albus and Scorpius’ friendship is moving; their adventures are interesting; and the story does give new perspective on the series as a whole.

For all of us not seeing the play - it’s the best we’re going to get.



1 - I never mentioned my wand, did I? Cedar, dragon heartstring, quite bendy. Perceptive and loyal, with a high level of adaptability. Dragon heartstring has the greatest potential for power – and the greatest chance to turn to the Dark Arts. Isn’t that a coincidence.

2 - Completely unrelated, but I just found an excellent examination of darkness on Waiter Rant. Check it out.

3 - Taking the whole Voldemort-having-sex bit for granted; when, exactly, did Bellatrix Lestrange have time to be pregnant?

Where's My Hogwarts Letter

Lumos.

Due to the *ahem* excessive length, this post will be the first of two parts. Hold on to your broomstick, hippogriff, or flying Ford Anglia. 

Today I’m talking about Harry Potter.

If you’ve followed the blog, you’ve probably noticed all the HP references sprinkled around. I talked about the books themselves in a few places. One was a key example for why I love to read.

So obviously, I don’t care about the series at all.

Spoilers to follow.

I remember reading my first Harry Potter book – Chamber of Secrets – when I was eleven. Okay, no. Any thoughts about the story escape me. I just remember how it felt. I was amazed.

It was so vivid. The castle with its shifting staircases, animated armor and courteous ghosts. The comedy offsetting a very real sense of danger. The camaraderie between Harry, Ron and Hermione. And of course, the magic. Harry Potter was unlike anything I’d read so far. This was imagination with a capital everything.

It was, as Ron would put it, bloody brilliant.

They’re all like that. No weak links here – every book is deserving of praise. Though we all have our favorites. Mine are Prisoner of Azkaban, for many reasons; Order of the Phoenix, for its dark tone and themes of rebellion; and Deathly Hallows, for its hugely satisfying conclusion of the series.

It’s not all about wandwork, either.

Harry Potter is a coming-of-age story. We watch as Harry and friends struggle through adolescence. Homework and young love coincide with death, prejudice and cruelty. As the books grow ever darker, their lessons grow increasingly clear. All life is transitory. Doing the right thing is never easy. And above all else, it is our choices that make us who we are.

Yeah. There’s a reason this is one of the highest-selling book series of all time.

Harry Potter has been translated into more than seventy languages. It’s expanded through companion books, movie and video game adaptations, truckloads of merchandise, and currently has attractions at four different theme parks the world over. Harry won’t be forgotten anytime soon.

But that’s not all. The magic lives on, in three very different ways.

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them comes out next month. The movie – the first of five, apparently – will begin a whole new storyline. It’s a very different setting; New York in the 1920s, instead of Britain in the 1990s. Not that that’s a bad thing. The premise is intriguing, and Rowling hints at a much larger tale in the works. Grindelwald's in there! 

 

If only it were a novel instead…

Who am I kidding. I’m really, really looking forward to it.

Then there’s the Pottermore website. A sort of official blog, the Wizarding World’s digital presence. Isn’t that ironic. On it, J.K. Rowling posts short stories, character profiles and articles on various magical topics. There’s a membership system too, allowing access to various quizzes determining what kind of witch or wizard you are. This is where things get interesting.

Naturally, I’ve taken all of them. Twice.

You’re not supposed to do that. A single account can only take the tests once, so the answers will be definitive. But that’s easily gotten around. Just open another account.

What? I was curious.

And dissatisfied with my first Patronus. I wasn’t alone there.

Each quiz draws on a larger pool of questions, so no test will be exactly the same. Most questions aren’t intuitive, either. You can’t game the system. Looking back, I’m still not sure how I got the answers I did. My first Patronus was a wood mouse. My second, a white stallion. Which fits better? Perhaps both.

In conjunction with Fantastic Beasts, the site introduces Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – the American Hogwarts. This too has four houses, named for creatures from Native American folklore. It’s a nice touch. They’re not carbon copies, either. Whereas the Hogwarts four represent qualities of character, Ilvermorny takes a broader scope, with their houses representing heart, mind, body and soul.

Again, I got two different answers.

My first was Pukwudgie. Yeah, I’d never heard of it either. A pukwudgie is a sort of goblin archer, fiercely loyal. This house favors independence, healing, and the heart. I could live with that.

My second, however, was Thunderbird. Pretty much what the name implies. A giant bird whose wingbeats create storms, related to the phoenix. This house favors freedom, adventure and the soul.

I was torn here. Independence and freedom aren’t all that different. Healing makes sense; I try to be considerate. I like adventures, both real and imagined. And how do you compare the heart and the soul?

You can probably guess what I chose in the end. *points to blog title*

Rowling herself is in this house.

Thunderbird it is.

There is a point to this. I’ve been talking about conflicting answers, but there was one test where I got the same results – the Hogwarts Sorting.

I was never going to be a Gryffindor. I’ve said before that personality-wise, I’d be either Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Not brave, but intelligent and loyal. Given the choice, I’d choose Ravenclaw.

But the official test gave me neither eagle nor badger.

I got Slytherin.

Twice.

Okay. There were a couple of repeated questions where I gave the same answers. But why should wanting a black cat make me a Slytherin? One of my favorite pets was a black cat. What’s wrong with that?

I was indignant at first. But the more I thought about it…

Slytherins are rather maligned in the series. Their house is for Dark magic, Nazi children, the enemies of Gryffindor. Think about it. In all seven books, can you recall an instance where a Slytherin student is not conniving or hateful or just plain bad?

There are nuances, though. In the end, Draco Malfoy was just an insecure little brat. His mother, Narcissa, truly loved him. And Snape, one of the most hated characters, was arguably one of the most heroic.

Dumbledore noted how the house is known for cleverness, determination, resourcefulness, and not always following the rules – all of which being qualities Harry possesses. Harry could have been in Slytherin, remember. Pottermore describes them as complex individuals, with the potential for good or evil. Voldemort was a Slytherin, but so was Merlin.

Light and darkness. That appeals to me.

All right, fine. The serpent it is. I wanted intelligence, but I’ll take cunning. 

They don’t all turn out evil. Scorpius Malfoy, exhibit A. I like that kid.

Besides. I, of all people, can say that not all snakes are bad.

That’s all for now. The second half will focus on the third way in which Harry Potter lives on. The eighth story, set nineteen years later.

Next time, I’ll talk about Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.

Making Messes

I am not a hoarder.

I’m not even close. Those stacks of newspapers and garbage you see on TV? Never in a million years. My room stays clean. All right, all right, I’m not a neat freak, either. Sometimes I miss the cobwebs forming in the ceiling corners. It could be worse.

And it occurs to me that that’s not just because I’m tidy. It’s also because the mess is manageable.

I don’t have a lot of stuff.

The stuff I do have can be divided into three categories: clothes, books, and various odds and ends. Whoops, forgot video games and digital devices. I’ve got a few of those too.

And I’m not really attached to any of it.

The clothes are there to be worn. Duh. The books are for reading, the games to be played. Many of those, gifts and so on, come with sentimental value. That’s normal. I just got a few more over the weekend.

But I have little problem getting rid of old clothes. If I don’t play the games, I sell them. Heck, the only reason I’m keeping my Wheel of Time collection is that I’m sure someday I’ll want to read them all over again.

Things are meant to be used.

But it’s not always that simple. I was reading an article the other day by a self-confessed hoarder. He talked about buying the same books more than once, after losing earlier copies in the piles of junk he’d amassed. He’d forgotten whether he owned them or not – and he needed to be someone who would own those books. While being interviewed about his condition, he blurted out, “What would I be without it all?”

In this case, at least, hoarding was tied to a person’s identity. The lines between who he was and what he owned were blurred. This man needed so much stuff because he was his stuff.

Kind of sad, really.

That’s an extreme example of what I’m talking about today. Not materialism run rampant, though you could make that case too.

No – today I’m talking about self-image.

How do you see yourself?

Physically, emotionally, psychologically. Identity is a complex subject – now that’s an understatement – so let’s stick to perception. What do you see when you look at yourself? And more importantly, do you like what you see?

Everything you see?

Honestly.

If your answer is, Yes! I’m awesome! I couldn’t be more awesome if I tried! Then great, good for you. No need to finish reading this. Go away. Shoo. Be awesome somewhere else.

But I’m guessing that deep down, not a lot of people are going to say that.

A few days ago, there was an instance when I behaved in a way I regret. (I’ll spare you the details.) Logically, I know there were reasons behind how I acted. Mitigating factors. It wasn’t that bad, all things considered. But still.

The next day I hated myself.

I didn’t want to think that I could act that way. I still don’t.

We all have flaws, imperfections. It’s the human condition. There are so many we get hung up on. Maybe you have a short temper, a cynical mind, a passive personality, an addiction. Maybe you take things too personally. Maybe you jump to conclusions.

Even admitting them is difficult. We jump through all sorts of hoops to justify our actions. No one wants to face their flaws.

But we have to.

Despair comes from thinking that nothing will ever change – but we can change.

Here’s the thing about mistakes. The only way to stop making them, is to make them. Every failure is a lesson in disguise. This is how we learn, and grow.

Sucks, doesn’t it.

That guy from the example? He was right. All the junk we carry around, the screw-ups, issues and insecurities – they are a part of us.

But not the only part.

We are more than our mistakes.

So don’t beat yourself up when you make one. Learn from it, and move on. You’ll be a better person for making it.

Heck, you’re a better person now.

You have good parts too, don’t you?

Just a reminder. You never know who’s going to need it.