A Kind of Magic

To answer these questions, glance away from them and consider this. There is a dominant view being expressed that while Rowling has magnificently brought closure to her series, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is, at its core, a marketing phenomenon.

Perhaps. But in this age of fragmented discourse, it is also an event of immense unifying power. For more than a weekend, the book kept vast numbers of people on the same pages … and certainly that is a marketing success. But it is so much more. For just a few days, the Potter book brought readers of vastly different inclinations, ages and cultures into a common conversation.

Perhaps those questions need to be reframed like this: why do Potter books work? Yes, they are derivative. Perhaps there are even better books on fantasy and magic currently being sent out to bookstores. And, certainly, Rowling is a clumsy writer at times. But that becomes so irrelevant upon reading her books, especially this last one in which she has been so large-hearted to her readership by bringing, so commandingly, different threads from the earlier six books to closure.

Those of us who read each book as it was published would confess to an unstated apprehension that the closing book would not hold. That doubt, in effect, put on hold the question, why are Rowling’s books so magical?

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows works so well — with even anticipated twists unfolding in a special way — that to read it is to know. Rowling has kept us interested by placing her magical world so coherently in consonance with the non-magical world. Remember C.S. Lewis had to resort to a sleight to undertake the comings and goings between the two worlds — when the kids returned from Narnia, time would not have moved in the non-magical, real world.

For Rowling, wizards and witches inhabit the same world and time moves along the same arrow. They live side by side. In her narratives, it is just that we Muggles (people without magical powers) often don’t realise that some curious happenings around us are not figments of our imagination; it’s just wizards going about their business. And if something is beyond the observation of Muggles, it is because protective spells and enchantments have been cast to keep them out of view.

In fact, as the battlelines get drawn between good and evil in this book — with Voldemort gathering his forces for a final hunt for Harry Potter, and Potter leading the quest for the Horcruxes in which Voldemort had stashed parts of his soul — a good way of determining on which side a character is by noting their views of Muggles. The forces of evil hate Muggles and want to keep wizards free of any contact with them. The forces of good keep insisting on a common humanity.

Perhaps this is why you don’t have to be child to feel the compulsion to look around you a bit curiously after reading this book. And that feat has to be an act of magic.