''''Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,'''' by the Scottish writer J.
K. Rowling, is the third in her projected
series of seven fantasy
novels for
children; the first two are ''''Harry Potter and the
Sorcerer''s Stone'''' and ''''Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.'''' The
books have attracted legions of grown-up readers as well. Their runaway
success here invites analysis, partly because the books are as popular
with boys as with girls. Sure, this is a fantasy series, but what kind
of magic spell can turn so many reluctant boy readers into an army of
bookworms?
So far, in terms of plot, the books do nothing very new, but they do it
brilliantly. The first three share a similar structure: pre-teen-age
orphan boy gets in trouble with his unwilling guardians -- a gloriously
tiresome pair of relatives -- and goes on to spend the academic year at
Hogwarts, England''s boarding school for the training of witches and
wizards. With each installment we learn more about the background of
the series, the mysterious death of Harry Potter''s parents, the doing
of evil Lord Voldemort. So far, so good: plainclothes kid born to the
heroic breed. Another diamond in the rough.
A hero has to be worth his salt. (Her salt, too. Ursula K. Le Guin,
Diana Wynne Jones and Robin McKinley have shown us that if male heroes
don''t share the salt the female heroes will go on a quest for it.) But
no nascent hero of either gender becomes effective without a decent
apprenticeship. Rowling''s books conform to one of the archetypal
patterns of fantastic children''s literature: the education of the hero.
True, as English literary fantasy began to flower, Lewis Carroll''s
Alice learned next to nothing from her dream adventures; in the
Victorian age of improving literature for children, Alice''s
imperviousness to the behavior modification attempted by the mad
residents of Wonderland was a chief attraction of those books. And
Peter Pan, never growing up, changed very little.
But from the late 1930''s on, some of the great English fantasies -- and
some American ones -- have concerned themselves with Heroics 101. The
adventures of Bilbo Baggins in ''''The Hobbit'''' constitute an Outward
Bound training of a burglar, since ''''
warriors are busy fighting one
another in distant lands, and in this neighborhood heroes are scarce.''''
Wart from ''''The Sword in the Stone'''' is given a magical mystery tour of
the natural world by his tutor, Merlyn. Ged in ''''A Wizard of Earthsea''''
attends a school for mages. Harry Potter is the new boy in the dorm --
or House. Though Harry is not yet so commanding a figure as his
predecessors, he seems destined for greatness, and the books resemble
Kipling''s ''''Stalky and Co.'''' as peopled by sports coaches, school
nurses and pimply novice witches and wizards.
As the new book begins, Harry Potter is 13 and beginning his third year
at Hogwarts. A mass murderer named Sirius Black has escaped from a
maximum security prison called Azkaban; he is so notorious that even
dull-witted Muggles (nonmagic citizens) are terrified. Black is on the
prowl for Harry Potter, who has been shown to be fingered by destiny to
fight Lord Voldemort to the finish. (The lightning scar on Harry''s brow
is the result of an early skirmish, but a badge of honor too.) In the
most gripping scenes, the villain infiltrates the school despite the
host of horrifying phantasms, called Dementors, deployed to guard the
property. Yet even with Sirius Black breathing hot on his trail,
''''Harry had no room in his head to worry about anything except the
match tomorrow."
Now this is good boyish thinking, putting first things first, and may
be the secret to the success of the books: J. K. Rowling''s fantasies
celebrate a boy''s relish in physical prowess as well as the more
bookish values of moral and intellectual accomplishment.Now this is good boyish thinking, putting first things first, and may
be the secret to the success of the books: J. K. Rowling''s fantasies
celebrate a boy''s relish in physical prowess as well as the more
bookish values of moral and intellectual accomplishment.
Novels are best suited to focus attention on an individual, someone
whose life seems genuinely novel, apart, unprecedented. But the needs
of boys and girls are multiple and contradictory. While desiring heroic
distinction, children also have to find their places in the herd. And
novels that effectively celebrate tribal membership are rare. Harry
Potter and his friends Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley are dedicated
to the triumphs of Gryffindor House as much as they are to their
individual academic efforts. The competition among the four Houses of
Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry is practice jousting for
the more serious battles against Sirius Black and other agents of Lord
Voldemort. The earliest athletic games kept warriors in fighting trim.
It''s all part of a good education, for boy warriors and girl warriors.
We can''t know where J. K. Rowling will take our Harry. But if her
series goes on the way it''s started, Harry will be 17 by the last
installment. At a book a year, Chloe will be 16 when the final volume
appears, and I suspect the dashing lightning scar on Harry''s forehead
will have a different allure. Maybe by then J. K. Rowling will have
achieved what people who love the best children''s books have long
labored after: breaking the spell of adult condescension that brands as
merely cute, insignificant, second-rate the heartiest and best of
children''s literature.GET THIS BOOK FREE.BUY SELL RENT BOOKS ONLINE - ON MY BLOG.http://workfromhomedepot.blogspot.com/2008/01/review-books-summary-abstracts.html