So. There you go. I have read the final installment of the Harry Potter saga. I am filled with conflicting emotions. Harry has been a constant companion since I began bookselling around the time that HP & the Philosopher's Stone was released. I have seen the face of children's bookselling transformed beyond recognition, from a largely moribund
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I have read a shitload of fantasy in my time and this is the only series that had such a powerful effect, even though, consciously, I knew the books themselves weren't particularly great. Of themselves, at least.
In any case, yeah. Coming to the end feels wrong and hollow, and I have unanswered questions. I hope Ms Rowling does write more books in that universe, even if they're not HP ones. Who knows? Perhaps for charity etc. But it won't be the same/
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Oh, don't make me cry again... :(
I closed the book thinking, what the hell kind of ending is that? To much is left unsaid. Ah well. There's always fanfiction. :)
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I became less attached to the main character as the series progressed, but the various fates of the other characters and the conclusion of the Potter saga as a whole has left me feeling a bit at loose ends.
I think this was why I had a hard time getting excited about this book -- I knew once it came and went, that would be it, and all that gleeful anticipation would be no more.
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I climbed out of a window, waving to my (mostly awful) companions & just never came back after the holidays.
Admittedly, it leaves me unable to spell certain big words, & slightly less emotionally-damaged than I could have been, given another six months or so...
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