My Own Phoenix Song
So I just finished Book 6. As of this moment, it is my favorite.
I noticed that my two favorite books lack direct contact with Voldemort. Interesting. The dramatic devices used around the overtly-villainous Voldemort do irk me sometimes; this may have something to do with it. That may not be the only similarity, however.
Book 6 never comes across as forced. It's like she hit a stride as a writer. The characters, and the story, are then so well-established that she seems to have just peaked with Book 6. Book 5 was awkward because she had to cement the story, but Book 6 benefited from it.
I am also deeply impressed by how she handled romance. See, I in particular HATE romance. I once asked my boyfriend, "Baby, what are two things I hate?" and he answered, immediately, "Liars and romantic comedies."
But she did not make me hate it. ALSO, and this is more significant, she handles gender well. I cannot stand, on principle, when distinct lines are drawn between boys and girls, as in what is expected and not expected or common or uncommon...accepted or unacceptable. But even though she does draw lines in behavior and comments on it, it never bothers me. I hope it's because it's just so sincere. Observant, rather than dictative or ignorant.
Book 6 lacks any real faults that I can see. I really love reading it, and enjoy the way Harry snarks more and more. How he demands and stands his ground and challenges Snape to fight him, to kill him.
But the end of that great book rings in another much larger truth: Book 7. Waiting for me. The End, which I have only read once and have shied away from ever since. It seems impossible. Book 7 was always this distant, lingering promise. The answer to all our questions and the End of Everything. Holding it is depressing to me, because it came to pass and the reality of that is sad. I know I'll get to relive it over and over again in years to come, and on two big screens by the end of this week, but for right now, I'm sad.
Tomorrow I will begin Book 7 all over again, only the second time reading it since the month it came out. It must be said that I've done as much as possible to honor the end of Harry Potter. I will include another post that demonstrates that.
Tonight: Movie 5.
I noticed that my two favorite books lack direct contact with Voldemort. Interesting. The dramatic devices used around the overtly-villainous Voldemort do irk me sometimes; this may have something to do with it. That may not be the only similarity, however.
Book 6 never comes across as forced. It's like she hit a stride as a writer. The characters, and the story, are then so well-established that she seems to have just peaked with Book 6. Book 5 was awkward because she had to cement the story, but Book 6 benefited from it.
I am also deeply impressed by how she handled romance. See, I in particular HATE romance. I once asked my boyfriend, "Baby, what are two things I hate?" and he answered, immediately, "Liars and romantic comedies."
But she did not make me hate it. ALSO, and this is more significant, she handles gender well. I cannot stand, on principle, when distinct lines are drawn between boys and girls, as in what is expected and not expected or common or uncommon...accepted or unacceptable. But even though she does draw lines in behavior and comments on it, it never bothers me. I hope it's because it's just so sincere. Observant, rather than dictative or ignorant.
Book 6 lacks any real faults that I can see. I really love reading it, and enjoy the way Harry snarks more and more. How he demands and stands his ground and challenges Snape to fight him, to kill him.
But the end of that great book rings in another much larger truth: Book 7. Waiting for me. The End, which I have only read once and have shied away from ever since. It seems impossible. Book 7 was always this distant, lingering promise. The answer to all our questions and the End of Everything. Holding it is depressing to me, because it came to pass and the reality of that is sad. I know I'll get to relive it over and over again in years to come, and on two big screens by the end of this week, but for right now, I'm sad.
Tomorrow I will begin Book 7 all over again, only the second time reading it since the month it came out. It must be said that I've done as much as possible to honor the end of Harry Potter. I will include another post that demonstrates that.
Tonight: Movie 5.