Harry Potter
Everything’s been said about Harry Potter. I got on the bandwagon late, when there were already four or five books out. I’m a sci-fi and fantasy fan, and I’d read that there was really nothing new in there, and that the only really good thing about the whole saga was that it was getting kids to read (then came the movies - allow me to roll my eyes). Well actually I really like the series. It keeps me wanting more. Sure, a lot of stuff’s been seen/read before in other ways, but, urr, well - what else do you expect? Literature (and music and art…) has been around for a long time and - sorry to burst your bubble - we humans are simply not that complex: we get the same thrills from the same fictional events. I’m tired of all this talk about originality - art is theft, and skill is in an original arrangement of themes and concepts. Anyway: I like Happy Potter. AND… I am seeing first-hand the pleasure it brings to the Kid. He has long been an avid reader, but his choices err on the comic book/Dragon Ball side too often for my taste. He’s now finishing the fourth Potter book - a brick - and is eager to begin the fifth one asap. As an über-avid reader of a stepmom and owner of over 2,000 books myself, it moves me to tears when he says “I just can’t put that book down!” That’s the clencher, the ah-ha moment: the joy of reading that opens his mind and will guarantee him reading memories for a lifetime. Sure it could have been, like me, with The Wizard Of Oz
