Hung up on Harry

How did Rowling get so many of us to buy into her demands of secrecy? Magic, perhaps

Before this day is out, the inordinately anxious amongst us will know. Harry Potter’s inevitably dark secrets will be within our grasp. But what will be the repercussions of an extraordinary moral consensus that got constructed around the release of this seventh — and in many ways, thankfully the last — instalment in J.K. Rowling’s saga? By this moral consensus, as good citizens of the book-reading world, it has been incumbent upon each and every one of us to await dutifully the retail embargo set by her publishers. So even if a copy was procured — by hook or by crook — it was a crime terrible enough to attract the description ‘spoiler’. And in this Mugglemanic week, there was no worse articulation of abuse to be had.

It is almost unreal. Elaborate security and binding legal contracts were brought to bear upon publishing, courier and retail personnel to ensure that not

a word leaked before the appointed hour. Copies, of course, leaked. Hastily photographed copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows were posted on the Internet. Instantly, presumably responsible fan sites averred that they would not cavort with — shock, horror — “spoilers”. A reviewer for The New York Times bought a copy and published a review, drawing stern reprimand from the author for the outrage. This, when the newspaper — with some rather stunning investigations to its name — flagged the review with a pretty apologetic clarification that it did not give away the ending.

That is the power of Rowling’s spell. She has not only captured the devoted readers amongst us with her creativity and imagination. She has uncannily made all of us submit to a vow of secrecy. She has willed us to nurture our curiosity till the time set by her. And those who violate it, is her curse, shall hereafter be known as “spoilers”. How did she manage that, if not by magic? Long after the day is out, the answer to this puzzle will remain elusive.