Showing posts with label Harry Potter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harry Potter. Show all posts

Thursday, July 21, 2011

The theology of Harry Potter #7: book vs film

Brad Littlejohn has an excellent exposition of the theology of the final Harry Potter book in comparison to the final film (which doesn't stack up so well). If you ever wanted someone to demonstrate that there was much more going on christologically in Rowling than the all too common and wearily superficial assumption that her depiction of magic equalled a nefarious seduction of young minds into Satanic arts, then read his piece.

Warning: film plot spoilers.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Harry Potter and consumerism


Harry Potter and Consumerism from CPX on Vimeo.
H/T CPX.

The only questions are: can the dark wizard Consumerism and his nefarious crew of Planet Eaters be defeated before he takes over the world? And what kind of magic will be required to defeat his curse?

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Rowling on the fringe benefits of failure

“As is a tale, so is life: not how long it is, but how good it is, is what matters.”

- Seneca

J. K. Rowling recently delivered the commencement address at Harvard University to a group of new graduates. Even if you are not a Harry Potter fan, it may well be worth twenty minutes of your time.

“Failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. [...] I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was. [...] I was set free because my greatest fear had been realised. [...] Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life. [...] It is impossible to live without failing at something unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all, in which case you have failed by default.”

Rowling's reflections upon her failures are funny and insightful. She tries to avoid the trivialisation and triumphalism of much self-help discourse in which failures are turned into success-in-disguise. She is willing to learn from her mistakes, but doesn't feel the need to treat them as anything but mistakes.
H/T Lis.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Link love

It's been a while since I've shared the love.

Alastair posts some Thoughts on Rowling's revelation that Dumbledore is gay.

Michael has discovered Hart's often breath-taking The Doors of the Sea and offers some reflections upon providence.

Rory is reflecting upon lessons learned about churches (big and little) while in the UK recently.

Frank has noticed a worrying tendency in Christian responses to climate change.

Mark has been posting some (more lengthy) thoughts on creation science (or as MPJ would say: 'creation' "science"). I've just linked to the first few posts in a series that already contains eleven lengthy posts.

Friday, September 07, 2007

O'Donovan on wakefulness IIb: Admiring

Admiring (cont)
This is a summary of the second half of Oliver O'Donovan's second lecture in the 2007 New College Lectures Morally Awake? Admiration and resolving in the light of Christian faith. This second lecture is on Admiring.

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The feeling of dread arises when we reach the limits of our knowledge. We fear the unknown. This is most clearly seen in children, who, in order to praise one thing as good, often need to demonise alternatives. We treat our dreads as though they were as real as our loves. We can love evil by refusing the adopt the self-reflective position, becoming curved in upon ourselves, according to Luther's definition of sin: incurvatus in se. We then divide the world in two: good and evil. This creates a negative sense of "world" to go alongside the positive use assumed throughout these lectures so far. This negative world is a world our self-enclosure pitched in opposition to the real world.*
*Perhaps I missed a crucial step in this paragraph. This is one section I'd like to revisit when the recordings and full text of the lectures appears on the New College website.

Repentence is thus the progress from unreflective knowledge to reflective knowledge. In coming to know ourselves we come to know (reflectively) our unreflectiveness. Conversion is the beginning of the perfection of love, which casts out dread, according to St John (1 John 4.8). Augustine spoke of learning to love the self, by this he meant that the love of God and neighbour is a self-aware love; we do not come to love God and neighbour absent-mindedly. These loves are not in competition. We do not love ourselves as much as we love God, for we are to love him with our whole being, and there is nothing left over after this love. Self-love is not self-interest or protectiveness, yet nor can we rule the self out of perfect love. Reflective self-love is the opposite of unreflective self-absorption in which we are left at the centre of our own universe without a purchase on the reality of others.

Love must be ordered. There are many good things in the world; how can we love a pluriform world? We need an ordered set of relations as we participate in the moral order. Our admiration has to be structured, rather than simply saying "wow" to each new thing. We must learn to value most what is most valuable. Our love must learn nuances, similarities, contrasts, causes and effects. An ordered knowledge of an ordered world will lead to an ordered knowledge of self. We come to learn about our eyes as we use them to observe the world. We discover that there are others like myself, who see and love. The neighbour is always the self's companion; indeed, it is through the neighbour that we come to awareness of the self: I am other people's other people - vulnerable, capable of disappearing to them as they are to me.

Returning (once again) to Augustine (a frequent touchstone throughout this lecture), in his De Doctrina Christiana he distinguishes between loving and using in order to create a hierarchy in which God is the supreme good to be loved. The first lecture spoke of wakefulness to the world, the self and to time, but why not to God? Why isn't God a fourth thing alongside the others? Each of the other three are not fully grasped except in relation to God. God is the source and end of our awakening. Yet God is not the direct object of our attention, except through the incarnation and prophetic utterance of the Spirit. How can God be the source of our admiration?

To answer this question, let us focus on the experience of gratitude. I admit that what is good, is good for me. I belong to this world and am indebted to its goodness. Gratefulness makes our knowledge of the world come alive. Yet it has also seen that good is a communication: it is for me, but from whom? Who is the source? Once we have caught ourselves being grateful, we are driven to address the supreme good. It is possible to enjoy this or that good without thinking of the source in the supreme good, though it is not possible to do so throughtfully. We can only grasp God's goodness is relation to created (and redeemed) goods. Love thus follows a path from the world through the self and neighbour to God.

Goodness for me is an event, a history. It occurs in time. This doesn't mean that change is all that matters. The goodness of God is not simply something past and achieved, it is also a promise. In admiring, we learn to anticipate God's future goodness. It is as we are placed before a given good that is open to perfection that we begin to hope. Hope holds before us a future that is our good. Opens a space in which we may act. Our ultimate hope, extended to an absolute future means we can intend to our immediate future.*
*Again, I wasn't sure I followed this section, but I think O'Donovan was making a similar point to Barth's comment about little and big hopes. He included a quote from Augustine and extending and intending, which I missed. There is more on hope in the third lecture.

Virtue is a form of goodness realised in others around us, a glimpse of what human action is given to be. Virtue is in the first place in the third person and visible, rather than internal. It is not a law, ideal or command. The virtues are not to be imitated, but to be loved. They are the evidence or seal on God's promise for our lives, communicating a promise of the perfection we lack. Virtue is a kind of goodness, not rightness.

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Question time included queries about the Word of God (O'Donovan spoke with great care of Christ, the Scriptures and Christian proclamation), more on his closing comments about virtues, the reality of evil (O'Donovan repeated the view of the fathers that Satan is perfectly good insofar as he exists. The problem with Satan is not what is there, but what is not there: love. There is a hole at the centre of Satan. Living from fear is living out Satanic emptiness [making interesting links with Voldemort]. When we confront the Other, do we highlight what is not known and centre on that? Satan asks us to worship a lack. A further question asked then if evil only existed in the mind, to which he replied that evil is an event, a doing, rather than a being. Satan's evil is not in his being, but in his rebellion. In our sin we assert ourselves against reality), the difficulty of portraying goodness in art due to our cynicism (a protective mechanism, which believers can dispense with in order to be expert admirers), and on eschatology. This final question took a few attempts to articulate, until finally the questioner came right out and asked "Are you pre-, post- or amillennialist? What is your eschatology?". There was an audible dropping of the collective penny and we turned to hear O'Donovan's reply. "I have no eschatology," he said, "apart from that of the New Testament." He refused to systematise or sequentialise the scriptural images of what he called "the absolute future", though confessed his orthodox belief in the return of Christ, the judgement of God and the resurrection of the dead.

All three nights were well attended and had excellent, albeit fairly brief, question times. Everyone I spoke with agreed that this second lecture was the hardest to follow. As I heard someone say on the third night, "I followed him down all the streets, but I missed some of the corners." And I think my note-taking reflects that: I got many/most of his assertions, but didn't always grasp the logical links and moves between them. If these summaries feel jerky, that is why.
Ten points for providing a link to a very similar photo on this blog, taken just a few metres further back.
Series: I; IIa; IIb; IIIa; IIIb.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

'Whispers of Christ' in Harry Potter

An article in Christianity Today (now a few weeks old) about Christian echoes in Harry Potter (H/T Em). My recent post was not meant to indicate hostility towards hearing such echoes, just disappointment with further confusion in popular usage of 'resurrection'.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Harry Potter and the hallowing of death

Warning: spoilers aplenty
"...there are far, far worse things in the living world than dying." (p. 577)
It seems J. K. Rowling has been reading my blog. She must have been doing so even as far back as Order of the Phoenix, 718, where the idea is also expressed.

As I mentioned before, the final Harry Potter novel is by far the most theological. Not that such themes were absent from the rest of the series, but Deathly Hallows takes them to a new level. In particular, I'd like to reflect a little on death in Harry Potter.

It's been there from the opening chapter of Philosopher's Stone: "The Boy who Lived". Muted at first, Rowling starting popping off characters from the middle of the series: Cedric (Goblet of Fire), Sirius (Order of the Phoenix), Dumbledore (Half-Blood Prince) and the final book is almost Shakespearean in its blood bath: Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, Remus Lupin, Fred Weasley, Bathilda, Colin Creevy, "and fifty more", plus Severus Snape, Bellatrix, Voldemort himself and, of course, Harry.

Or does he? For all the discussion of a Christ-like death and resurrection, Harry does neither. The much-pondered penultimate chapter "King's Cross" is quite clear that Harry never died: "He failed to kill you with my wand. ... I think we can agree you are not dead" (570); indeed, Harry's blood in Voldemort's veins has kept him alive while the dark lord lives (567). King's Cross is a near-death experience (from which it would be possible to board a train and go "On" as Dumbledore says: 578)) occurring in Harry's head. It is here that wounds are healed and glasses are no longer needed (except for Dumbledore's, confirmed as a fashion accessory: 567). This is Harry's taste of restoration, of 'resurrection'. When he comes back, he is again the scarred, mortal boy who almost died. Except that he has now also become a man: "You wonderful boy. You brave, brave man." (566)

The Resurrection Stone is no such thing. It is a ghost stone, able to bring back shadows of those who once were. Indeed, the very desire to see the dead again is what mislead Dumbledore into attempting to use the stone and so destroyed his hand (and his health). The dead who are 'raised' by this stone at worst make the user himself want to die in order to join them, and at best give some moral encouragement to the living. The dead do not live again, except in life-and-love-sustaining memories.

When Harry and Hermione read the tombstone of his parents, they discover 1 Corinthians 15.26: The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. Confused, and thinking it sounds like a Death Eater sentiment, Harry asks "Why is that here?" to which Hermione replies: "'It doesn't mean defeating death in the way the Death Eaters mean it, Harry. [...] It means ... you know ... living beyond death. Living after death." I've posted before on life after death, and how that's not what 'resurrection' means in the Bible. Resurrection is life after life after death, as N. T. Wright puts it. It is not life continuing despite death, a transition to another form of existence. It is life again and better.

Harry is no Christ, dying to save those he loves (what about dying for his enemies?) and rising triumphant. Of course, there are parallels and of course this story has been powerfully shaped by Christian archetypes. But if any are tempted to read the Gospel narrative in light of its portrayal of 'death and resurrection', they will be gravely misled.

I'd love to say much more, and perhaps I will continue these thoughts at some stage, but for the moment, I'll end with one final reflection.

Voldemort: his name means 'the flight of death', but I wonder whether it mightn't also mean 'flight from death'. "He fears the dead. He does not love." (577) Here, finally, is an insight more properly called Christian. It is the fear of death that drives Voldemort, that blinds him to love and the more powerful magic: "Of house-elves and children's tales, of love, loyalty and innocence, Voldemort knows and understands nothing. Nothing. That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never grasped." (568) Death, though an enemy, is not to be feared. The hope of resurrection liberates us from obsessing about staying alive.
Ten points for the location of the picture.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Harry Potter: the end or a beginning?

OK - I finished late last night. Time to discuss it. I'd love to hear your reflections and theories. Those who don't want spoilers can avoid the comments. This was certainly the most theological volume of the series.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Harry Potter: the beginning of the end

I'll be getting my hands on a (borrowed) copy of #7 this evening. No spoilers in the comments please.

More than five years ago, I wrote an English honours thesis comparing the representation of children and childhood in Harry Potter and Narnia. At that stage, only the first four books had been published and no movies had come out. I'll be very interested to see whether my claims still hold up in light of the final revelations.

As is often the case, the best thing I've read on Harry Potter is found on Alastair's blog in a lovely post called 'Of Boggarts'. Here's a taste:

Christian authors can and should tell stories of Greek and Norse gods, of dragons, giants, goblins, faeries, of witches on broomsticks, of pixies, gnomes, elves and dwarves. These stories are the chains in which defeated Boggarts are paraded in triumph before the Risen Christ.
Also from Alastair comes a link to this catchy video which I can't get out of my head.