(no subject)
In case this is news to anyone, I'm a giant idiot. My plans for last weekend were to reread OotP and HBP, neither of which has been read since their respective midnight frenzies but, when I opened OotP to the first chapter and began to read, I found myself thinking, This is strangely like Goblet of Fire. Just to be sure, I double-checked the cover, but it was definitely the right book. Settled back down to read, thinking that perhaps I was confused, and began to find the dust jacket annoying, at which point I removed it and realised that the book I was holding in my hands actually was GoF. Naturally, I snatched up the copy that I had previously thought to be Gof and took off that book's dust jacket, only to find that I was holding two copies of the same book.
At some point in the last four years, my sister's copy of Goblet of Fire managed to acquire my dust jacket of Order of the Phoenix, which means that my parents' house contains two copies of it. The worst bit is that my sister is on holidays with them in the middle of nowhere (sometimes known as the interior of BC), so I can't phone her and tell her about the hilarious predicament.
Ah, well, I'll be staying in their house this coming weekend, at which point I shall reclaim my book. Sadly, this means I won't have time to reread it before Deathly Hallows is released, which doesn't have me too upset. That book, in my opinion, has been the biggest disappointment of the series (if only because it was the first one to be released after I began to develop critical thinking).
At any rate, I reread HBP on Sunday and, in addition to finally finding the Ron and the Giant Squid reference (top of page 422 in the UK edition!) which has eluded my best efforts for the last two years, I have a few observations.
1) In the deep recesses of my mind, I knew that Dumbledore's manipulative streak was there and that it wasn't pleasant, but I was surprised at how much it stood out in this rereading. The thing is that it seems subtle enough to appear subconscious, and maybe JKR didn't even realise what she was doing (zero faith over here), but there isn't a scene between him and Harry where he is not manipulating the latter or using him in some sort of fashion. We see it when he leaves Scrimgeour to Harry in the beginning, again when Harry has to get Scrimgeour's memory, when Dumbledore forces Harry to watch him die (I don't think any of that was an accident but, rather, Dumbledore trying give Harry yet another reason for revenge), and, most disturbingly to me, when Dumbledore makes Harry feel guilty for pitying Tom Riddle after having a glance at his childhood, especially after preaching that love is the most powerful weapon of all.
Compassion is not a justification; Dumbledore, in all his supposed wisdom, ought to be aware of that. Apparently he is no Yoda; the "Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and hate leads to the Dark Side..." appears to have escaped his notice. He seems to want
2) What I say in the first point is, I think, why I don't have a problem with Lucius Malfoy. He's a manipulative bastard, but at least nobody's denying that. Everyone is selfish to varying degrees, but I think that the most selfish thing of all is to try and pass it off as self-sacrificing and noble. Dumbledore spends the entire series telling Harry that he knows what is best for him, but never bothering to tell him things about his family or letting him see their grave and, well, I've seen too much of that to be taken in by it.
When Lucius tells you that something really will be better for your health, he's perfectly clear in his meaning.
3) I'm intrigued by the lack of reaction from the other Death Eaters present when Snape kills Dumbledore. They just follow him and Malfoy out of the tower and pant a bit.
4) I'm curious as to whether Hermione's distrust of the Half-Blood Prince will translate into distrust of Snape himself, or whether she will continue to defend him, or at the very least seek an explanation. Even at the end of HBP, she demonstrates a curiosity in this area when she finds out the secret behind Snape's nickname... I have a feeling that she may be the key to uncovering his motives and reaching the truth.
5) "It's high time your grandmother learned to be proud of the grandson she's got, rather than the one she thinks she ought to have - especially after what happened at the Ministry." (McGonagall to Neville, pg. 165)
I had a moment where it occurred to me that McGonagall was channeling my old IB coordinator, who was the master of tough love but never failed to make one's strengths clear. If I hadn't already liked McGonagall, this single line would have done it for me, entirely for that reason.
6) "I need to see what Draco Malfoy is doing inside of you."
Enough said.
7) I still don't buy the Tonks/Lupin relationship. I like each of the characters individually, but... No, sorry, doesn't cut it. And that declaration of love at the end is mind-numbingly, painfully horrible. Depending on how it is developed in Deathly Hallows, I might change my mind (it has potential and I'd like to like it), but for the moment, just... no.
8) I'm more convinced than ever that Snape is good. At the very least, he took a huge risk in taking the Unbreakable Vow, which really should count for something...
I'm really not dealing with this Deathly Hallows thing now. The only thing that seems to relieve my crushing panic is... writing. Which shouldn't be surprising, since it tends to be my free therapy, but it doesn't help that I'm at a loss for words.
At some point in the last four years, my sister's copy of Goblet of Fire managed to acquire my dust jacket of Order of the Phoenix, which means that my parents' house contains two copies of it. The worst bit is that my sister is on holidays with them in the middle of nowhere (sometimes known as the interior of BC), so I can't phone her and tell her about the hilarious predicament.
Ah, well, I'll be staying in their house this coming weekend, at which point I shall reclaim my book. Sadly, this means I won't have time to reread it before Deathly Hallows is released, which doesn't have me too upset. That book, in my opinion, has been the biggest disappointment of the series (if only because it was the first one to be released after I began to develop critical thinking).
At any rate, I reread HBP on Sunday and, in addition to finally finding the Ron and the Giant Squid reference (top of page 422 in the UK edition!) which has eluded my best efforts for the last two years, I have a few observations.
1) In the deep recesses of my mind, I knew that Dumbledore's manipulative streak was there and that it wasn't pleasant, but I was surprised at how much it stood out in this rereading. The thing is that it seems subtle enough to appear subconscious, and maybe JKR didn't even realise what she was doing (zero faith over here), but there isn't a scene between him and Harry where he is not manipulating the latter or using him in some sort of fashion. We see it when he leaves Scrimgeour to Harry in the beginning, again when Harry has to get Scrimgeour's memory, when Dumbledore forces Harry to watch him die (I don't think any of that was an accident but, rather, Dumbledore trying give Harry yet another reason for revenge), and, most disturbingly to me, when Dumbledore makes Harry feel guilty for pitying Tom Riddle after having a glance at his childhood, especially after preaching that love is the most powerful weapon of all.
Compassion is not a justification; Dumbledore, in all his supposed wisdom, ought to be aware of that. Apparently he is no Yoda; the "Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and hate leads to the Dark Side..." appears to have escaped his notice. He seems to want
2) What I say in the first point is, I think, why I don't have a problem with Lucius Malfoy. He's a manipulative bastard, but at least nobody's denying that. Everyone is selfish to varying degrees, but I think that the most selfish thing of all is to try and pass it off as self-sacrificing and noble. Dumbledore spends the entire series telling Harry that he knows what is best for him, but never bothering to tell him things about his family or letting him see their grave and, well, I've seen too much of that to be taken in by it.
When Lucius tells you that something really will be better for your health, he's perfectly clear in his meaning.
3) I'm intrigued by the lack of reaction from the other Death Eaters present when Snape kills Dumbledore. They just follow him and Malfoy out of the tower and pant a bit.
4) I'm curious as to whether Hermione's distrust of the Half-Blood Prince will translate into distrust of Snape himself, or whether she will continue to defend him, or at the very least seek an explanation. Even at the end of HBP, she demonstrates a curiosity in this area when she finds out the secret behind Snape's nickname... I have a feeling that she may be the key to uncovering his motives and reaching the truth.
5) "It's high time your grandmother learned to be proud of the grandson she's got, rather than the one she thinks she ought to have - especially after what happened at the Ministry." (McGonagall to Neville, pg. 165)
I had a moment where it occurred to me that McGonagall was channeling my old IB coordinator, who was the master of tough love but never failed to make one's strengths clear. If I hadn't already liked McGonagall, this single line would have done it for me, entirely for that reason.
6) "I need to see what Draco Malfoy is doing inside of you."
Enough said.
7) I still don't buy the Tonks/Lupin relationship. I like each of the characters individually, but... No, sorry, doesn't cut it. And that declaration of love at the end is mind-numbingly, painfully horrible. Depending on how it is developed in Deathly Hallows, I might change my mind (it has potential and I'd like to like it), but for the moment, just... no.
8) I'm more convinced than ever that Snape is good. At the very least, he took a huge risk in taking the Unbreakable Vow, which really should count for something...
I'm really not dealing with this Deathly Hallows thing now. The only thing that seems to relieve my crushing panic is... writing. Which shouldn't be surprising, since it tends to be my free therapy, but it doesn't help that I'm at a loss for words.