Harry Potter and the Magic of Books

Since last week, I've been rereading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, the fifth book in J.K. Rowling's seven-book series, as a primer and memory refresher. It's been a couple years since I first read it and it's amazing how much of the 870-page tome I've forgotten. Actually, it's more amazing that there are parts I haven't forgotten. As of this morning, I'm twenty-five pages from the end and nearly ready to start the sixth Potter book. Once I complete the Half-Blood Prince, I'll have spent little more than a week and nearly (square the eight, divide by seven, carry the zero) 1,522 pages in the world of wizards, muggles and magical creatures.

Books, especially like the ones in the Harry Potter series, are magical. In a way, writers are wizards and their pens (or word processors) are wands. Depending on their skill and ability to concentrate, they cast spells on their books to make them portkeys. Yet, not even the most powerful wizard can tell if his or her spell will turn out to be a charm or a curse. The only ones who can make that call are professional critics and Amazon reviewers.

I think your average wizard/writer, like your average driver, is barely competent (and much less so on rainy days). Coincidentally, the same can be said for critics and Amazon reviewers. Some wizards can only manage to transport the reader (along with bits of the sofa) a few feet away without assurances that a few feet away will be free of walls, people or other solid objects. Some are able to send the reader far away, but can't guarantee that all or any of the reader will end up in the same place at the same time. Quite a few wizards are simply incapable of moving readers anywhere without readers performing disbeliefum suspensia on themselves.

The highly skilled wizard/writer is not only able to transport the reader across time and space safely, but is able to create a richly populated world for the reader to inhabit and enjoy. If the writer asks the reader to leave reality behind, he or she replaces reality with something better: a vivid imagination. The greater wizards not only draw readers into their story, but into their world, and Rowling is such a wizard (technically a witch, I suppose). When she writes, she does more than put thoughts down on paper. It's as if she puts her memories into a pensieve and allows us to dip our heads in to experience them ourselves.

As I write this, I'm imagining myself sitting at the office, wanting to take a break from work. Since the building has anti-disapparating jinxes in place, I have to find another way out. I check over my shoulder to make sure nobody is looking. Once assured, I pull out a blank, letter-sized sheet of recycled paper from under my keyboard. I tap it lightly with my green Sanford Sharpie (fine point) and softly say, "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good." The office layout appears on the paper along with names and locations of coworkers. Once I see the coast is clear, I grab my copy of the latest Harry Potter and don my invisibility cloak, which I've kept hidden in my snack drawer along with my special bag of Every Flavor Skittles. I make a beeline for the stairwell and escape for some fresh air and an uninterrupted fifteen-minute visit to Hogwarts. If only.