Monday, July 28, 2008

Dancing

A few definitions from Dictionary.com:
• to move one's feet or body, or both, rhythmically in a pattern of steps, esp. to the accompaniment of music
• to perform or take part in (a dance): to dance a waltz.
• a successive group of rhythmical steps or bodily motions, or both, usually executed to music.

I think the fist and third of these are inadequate because they would include tapping one’s foot as dancing. This certainly isn’t the way the word is commonly used.
It seems that when people talk about dancing they either mean performing or taking part in a dance (e.g. a waltz), or the improvised body movements that occur to popular music. It’s the second of these that I wish to discuss, and it’s a discussion that’s been brewing for years. Sorry to anyone who’s offended by it – none intended.

I don’t dance much. There are many reasons for this, one of which is that I don’t like the music. I struggle not to hit something when The One And Only is played, so I’m not about to stand up and start bopping with an expression of enjoyment on my face. I’m quite fussy about my music, and it’s usually not the danceable type. The main exception is ska music, though some people would debate whether skanking counts as dancing. Because I don’t dance much, I’ve had plenty of time to watch other people dancing, and I have made a few observations.

Some people are really good dancers – they are aesthetically pleasing to watch. These people are either technically really good, or very inventive (a friend of mine mimes every individual word in some songs, it’s genius).

Some people can get by – nothing impressive but not embarrassing to watch. They tend to wiggle a lot, and lead the way in the ‘organised dances’ (such as Reach for the Stars by S Club 7)

Some people are not very good dancers at all, but they know this and embrace it and have a good laugh at themselves. Much credit to these people.

Some people are really quite unconfident. They don’t appear to know what to do with their bodies and are actually quite hard to watch. They don’t seem to want to just dive in and see what happens and therefore adopt various coping mechanisms.

One coping mechanism is to form up in a large circle, facing inwards. These circles usually have a few people in the ‘can get by’ category (‘good dancers’ tend to be lone rangers). The unconfident seem to think that by associating with the can-get-bys, their incompetence and unconfidence will be overlooked. Because of the circular formation, participants can concentrate on singing to each other, so what the body is doing becomes less important. The dance moves themselves include swaying, bouncing on the toes, and swinging the arms.

Another coping mechanism is to ‘look cool’. This technique usually involves standing slightly slouched, with feet moving slightly, but with a determinedly relaxed expression. The key part is to survey what other people are doing and scan the outer perimeter of the room, in order to convince onlookers that you are completely unconcerned with what your own body is doing.

The most amusing coping mechanism to watch in action is the chatting. The unconfident dancer will try to wiggle for a few seconds, realise he or she is fighting a losing battle, and engage in brief (a few seconds) conversation with a nearby friend. This allows them to stop dancing for a few seconds.

In terms of relative abundance, most dance floors I have seen contain very large numbers (about 60-70%) of unconfidents, usually male. About 30% tend to be can-get-by’s and laugh-at-selves, with good dancers being very rare.
The unconfidents do not look happy to be there. They try to, but aren’t usually good enough actors. However the can-get-bys and laugh-at-selves encourage them enough to keep them there. If an unconfident is receiving individual tuition from a can-get-by, they tend to gain confidence and become a laugh-at-self, but unfortunately there aren’t enough can-get-bys for every unconfident to benefit.

The thing with dancing is that, ideally, it should be both enjoyable for the dancers and aesthetically pleasing for the onlookers. Good dancers, can-get-bys and laugh-at-selves all seem to enjoy it, and good dancers are also aesthetically pleasing. Unfortunately the unconfidents are not aesthetically pleasing and don’t appear to be enjoying themselves, although they try to make it seem so. It’s all quite upsetting to see.

Another observation: if a group activity is happening, the participants will generally invite people in the vicinity to join in. If these people don’t want to join in, they will politely decline and the participants will continue with the activity. However, if the activity is dancing, this is not enough – the participants will continually badger the onlookers to join them on the dance floor, sometimes resorting to physical action. This is another reason I don’t dance much – I’m very stubborn and the more people try to get me to dance, the less I am likely to do it. I don’t fully understand why people (and it’s often the can-get-bys) feel the need to do this but I’d be very interested to know. To be honest, it makes me quite angry when it happens.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

"Get the gospel in there"

A week or so ago I was talking to a Christian friend about my job and he asked me “what do you say when people say ‘so you’re science teacher and a Christian?’ ”. I said that I hadn’t faced that situation yet, but that I’d probably throw it back in their face with something like ‘yeah, aren’t you?’ or ‘yes, it makes more sense to me than anything else’. My point was that I’d try to make them explain why they thought the two might be inconsistent and then try to answer their queries.

My friend then made some sort of comment along the lines of “and then you’d swing it round to get the gospel in there”. What he meant was that he’d expect me, as a Christian, to manoeuvre the conversation to a point where I can hit my colleague with “God-loves-you-so-much-he-sent-Jesus-to-die-for-you”. At the time I let it pass, but it really grated with me. I have a problem with the idea that the aim of every conversation should be to talk about Jesus’ death on the cross.

Why can I not have an intellectual discussion about science and religion without trying to turn it into a preach? And who is to say that my colleague would not encounter God through that conversation, without any mention of Jesus?

The standard ‘four-point gospel’ or ‘two ways to live’ seem like very narrow views of the gospel. What about the good news of God’s love expressed through his creating and maintaining of the world, something that would flow far more naturally from a discussion of science and religion? Or what about bringing my views on abortion to a prep-room discussion, without discussing Jesus? Or trying to explain God’s love in the midst of reports of another natural disaster? There may be times to explain what I believe about Jesus, and what his crucifixion and resurrection were all about, but I don’t think I should be trying to bring that into every conversation.

I can think of little that would put me off God more than some Christian who tried to twist every conversation into a preach about my sin and Jesus death.

This approach also has overtones of seeing colleagues as projects to be worked on rather than people to be loved. The main command of God is to love, not to preach or convert. Sometimes (rarely) loving someone will involve telling them about what Jesus was all about (e.g. four-point gospel, though personally I’m not fan of that). More often it will be nothing like that. It will be helping them out with a task, giving them a gift, listening to their concerns. “Love is a verb”.

When it does come to ‘converting’, it’s about helping people move closer to God. We’re not called to make converts, but disciples – and disciples keep learning. They don’t just step across a line and stop, they charge right across the line and keep running. Therefore Christians should be focused on where they and others are going rather than where they are now. It’s not about getting a confession of faith, or repeating a prayer. It’s just about helping people understand what God is like and what he’s done (and that is not limited to the cross, though it includes it).

The central point of a person’s walk with God may not be the point when they say they believe (I didn’t even have this moment!), but the point they first experienced someone giving them something for nothing, or when they stood on top of a mountain and saw the beauty of creation, or the time they went to church at Christmas and were challenged with a different thought about baby Jesus, or even when they lie on their death-bed and look back on God’s faithfulness.

So if I’m asked how I can be a Christian and a scientist, I probably won’t mention Jesus, and I might not even mention my God. I might just explain how I see no contradiction between science and religion, or I might describe my worldview of the natural and the supernatural. But that might be exactly what my colleague needs. They may have been preached Jesus at dozens of times and know all the theory but have hit a stumbling block with science. Then surely helping them past that would be much more appropriate than hitting them with two ways to live again. Our conversations should be natural and our lives focused on expressing God’s love in all sorts of ways. And we shouldn’t narrow down God’s work to a three day period 2000 years ago.

Long Harry Potter ramble

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD! If you’ve read the books, go ahead and read this. If you haven’t, I ask you not to spoil them for yourself. However I have no problems putting this online because if you wanted to find out what happens you could have found out on any number of websites already.

I originally wrote this about 9 months ago, after reading Deathly Hallows, and posted it as a Facebook Note, but I’ve updated bits since then and now have a blog to put it on.

I often find I think best by writing, so this is primarily to help me compose my thoughts on the Harry Potter series, but if you’re reading, I hope you enjoy it and it gives you some interesting ideas about them. So this isn’t really a review, it’s more of a spiel of some of my thoughts about the books. There will be some specifically about book 7, but some of it will be more general. I’ll start with a little of my history as a HP fan.


Fan History
I first read Philosopher’s Stone in 1999, I think, about the time that ‘Prisoner of Azkaban’ was released. I’d tried it about a year before, but I didn’t like it (!). I confess that I got bogged down in the early chapters which are, I still maintain, the weakest part of the series. I think it was the endless letters and chasing around hotels, and the fact that the intrigue of the first chapter seemed to disappear. Also, in contrast to the rest of the series, those first few chapters have a distinctly childish tone to them which, and as by this time I was on to LOTR, I found a bit beneath me. By sister and brother both read books 1 to 3 and nagged me to read them, so I gave it another try, and was addicted very quickly. I read and re-read 1-3 that year, and subsequently read 4 to 7 as soon as they came out. I even permitted myself to experience the carnage of a midnight opening for ‘Deathly Hallows’.

8 years later and the books are my all-time favourites, having read them all an embarrassingly large number of times. I do follow the general internet fandom, though I don’t contribute because I find the triviality of most of it incredibly annoying!



The Success of Harry Potter

Harry Potter is obviously huge. Some of the statistics about book sales, money and changes in childrens reading trends are just scary. And of course, all the spin-offs – films, charity books, websites, a theme-park (the thought always makes me want to puke) and vast amounts of merchandise (incidentally: Death Eater masks?! Does no-one else have a problem with this? We might as well be encouraging kids to dress up as Nazis, for the DE’s have very similar views. OK so the DE’s are fictional (sorry to break that to you) but it’s promoting the same values…ok rant over (for now)).

People seem to struggle to work out exactly what makes the books so popular. They have great plots…but so do many other books. They have engaging characters…so do other books. What makes HP so uniquely successful?

Firstly, it is NOT clever marketing. Marketing has to have something to work on. The adoration of these books is there without the marketing; marketing just makes sure people do actually buy the books (not that most fans need any persuasion).
I could write for hours on the brilliance of the plot, the joy of getting to know the characters, and the vast number of themes spanning the books. One day I probably will. But for now, I think that the success of the books is down in part to the fact that they were released bit by bit over ten years. This means that before the release of the next book there is a year or two of questioning, theorising and speculating about it based on new information from the last book. This is what fandom thrives on – trying to answer the questioning, trying to guess Rowling’s mind. Of course, HP is not the only series to be released this way. But HP has another feature too: a vast percentage (possibly over half) of the story happens before the time in which the main story takes place. This is what makes the books so exciting to read. I must admit I’m not yet sure how this works, but there is something in the finding out of information from the past that helps piece together the present and future that is immensely exciting to the reader. And because this happens bit by bit over seven books and ten years it is all the more tantalising.

In addition to this, there is an interesting point that the word ‘fandom’ generally applies to the fantasy genre. Popular examples include Star Wars, LOTR, Buffy, Star Trek, X-Men: all part of the fantasy genre (fantasy used in its wider sense, including much sci-fi, horror and mythology). To any non-fantasy buffs out there, part of what makes modern fantasy literature so intriguing (at least to me) is that the story and the characters are only half of what is presented. The other half is the description of the very world where the stories take place, be it Middle Earth, Narnia or wherever. This includes the places but also the politics, the religion, the magic system etc.

Harry Potter can obviously be classified as fantasy and part of the draw of the books is the portrayal of the fantasy world, including the places, such as Hogwarts and St. Mungos, and also the politics (the Ministry) and the magic system (obviously throughout the books, and very much discussed among fans e.g. what happens when a secret keeper dies? How fast to curses move if they can be dodged? How can wizards sometimes cast spells without wands? etc.). But the critical thing about this fantasy world is that it could be real. It is after all set in this world that we Muggles live in, and Rowling is careful to explain why wizards (and dragons!) go unnoticed. While we know the stories are fiction, one some deep down level there is something that says “yeah, but you don’t know it isn’t real”. And that is very tantalising and adds weight to why the books are so popular.

Lastly, while other books are praised for their plots, characters and themes (what I see as the three main elements of a good story), nothing else has been produced on such a scale as Harry Potter. Roughly 3500 pages of story, most of which is action and dialogue, mean that in terms of plot and characters it is enormous. The plot covers nearly a century of history, seven years in immense detail. As mentioned before, the use of backstory and its intertwining into the main plot is nothing short of genius. In terms of characters, there are at least forty who we are very emotionally engaged with over the series (don’t believe me? Try this: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Ginny, Hagrid, Dumbledore, Snape, Riddle, Lupin, Sirius, Tonks, Fred, George, Crouch Jr, Crouch Sr, Dudley, Petunia, Regulus, Kreacher, Dobby, Winky, Firenze, Fleur, Xenophilius, Draco, Narcissa, Lucius, Bill, Arthur, Molly, Percy, Ernie, Aberforth, Wormtail, Lily, James, Trelawny, McGonagall, Slughorn, Griphook…there’s 42 to be going on with). That’s a huge number for one series, and the most poignant and moving moments of the series are ALL character driven, whether it be Lily’s sacrifice, Molly’s boggart, Dumbledore’s childhood, or just about any moment involving Luna (by the way, that girl is truly amazing!). On top of this, Rowling covers a massive number of themes in her books. As she herself has said, the primary theme is death (and I would add also the power of love over death), but how about these: life after death, love, sacrifice, prejudice, loyalty, fate, the greater good, the purity of souls, fear, the future, power, fatherhood, bravery…there will be more. In short, the scope of these books is both huge and highly detailed.


The Criticisms
However, the books have their critics, both literary and religious. The literary focus on things like the books not being classic literary masterpieces, being full of clichés, being intellectually unstimulating and just being made up of material borrowed from mythology. To these I would say, so what? Who says that a great book has to be technically of a high standard or highly intellectual? These books do not try to change the thinking of philosophers or further thinking on authorship. Rather they try to tell a brilliant story, with many deep and engaging characters and a range of very interesting views on the world. And they do an excellent job of it.

As for the religious critics, I find it amusing that 99% of them are adamant that they have never read the books and never will. Therefore they are, of course, ideally informed to comment! Anyone who reads the books can clearly see that this magic is nothing like the occult practices that God tells people to avoid in the Bible. I notice that no-one condemns the Narnia or Lord of the Rings books for their use of magic. Perhaps because they don’t give details of the actual spells? Oh come on – does anyone really think that saying “wingardium leviosa” will actually make something fly? Or maybe it’s because of the Messianic themes in Narnia and, to a lesser extent, LOTR. Well maybe they should try reading the end of ‘Deathly Hallows’.



Thoughts on Deathly Hallows


Which brings me nicely on to book seven itself. I had to cover it at some point. I am interested that everyone I have spoken to about ‘Deathly Hallows’, and most of the fan reviews on the internet, say exactly the same thing, in four parts:

1. something along the lines of ‘it was amazing’ or ‘I loved it’
2. a single word: ‘but’
3. a list of the various things they are unsatisfied with
4. a reassuring statement such as ‘but I did love it!’

My initial reaction was the same. The problem is that with two years of speculation and expectation after ‘Half-Blood Prince’, everyone wanted the perfect book, the perfect ending. Unfortunately ‘perfect’ depended on who you talked to, and in the end no-one was going to be wholly satisfied (well maybe one randomer somewhere, but no more). The most common thoughts before release were about who would die and who would end up with whom (how shockingly narrow-minded of the fan base, if all they can debate are these). However I had my theories too. My pre-release predictions were almost all bang on in terms of deaths. Admittedly my slightly wild McGonnagall-is-a-death-eater theory didn’t work out (I am glad she was good though!), but I got Neville-will-be-herbology-teacher (something I’ve been saying since about 2000!), all-four-Marauders-will-die, Draco-will-be-redeemed and Snape-is-loyal-to-Dumbledore spot on. I was quite pleased with myself.

The only death I got wrong was Ron’s (lack of). After reading it, I believe that the book could have been improved if Ron (and possibly Ginny) had died. I just think that having spent six books with Ron as at best a loyal sidekick and at worst comic relief, and then having him be so crucial in Deathly Hallows and go through all that he does over the course of it, it would have been so much more moving had he died. The trio broken at last, Hermione left alone. Pure bittersweetness. As it was, I felt it was a bit too sweet and not bitter enough for my taste. Of course, had Ginny also died, Harry’s journey would have been so much more heartbreaking. Killing Tonks was ludicrous – the series has enough orphans already, and Lupin was always going to die (note that Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs died in reverse order).

Anyway, onto other things. I thought the horcruxes were dealt with well by Rowling. I disagree with the accusations of “it was all to convenient” – the point is that Dumbledore made sure it was that convenient; he’d been setting it all up from the start! (having said that, the whole Ron-Parseltongue idea was a joke) Dumbledore’s backstory was truly amazing, as was Snape’s. The hallows themselves caught me completely off-guard, but I liked them, in spite of the huge plot complexities they caused. They really opened up the themes of power, death and conquering death.

Except for Dobby’s, the deaths didn’t hit me as hard as Dumbledore’s and Sirius’s. Killing Lupin off-screen was harsh and wasteful of what could have been a great death scene. And Fred’s was just a bit rushed really – the scene later on in the Great Hall where the dead lie was much sadder. I feel that the book needed something bigger though, something to match or even exceed the deaths in books 5 and 6 (i.e. Ron).

I thought book seven concluded JKR’s themes, such as love and sacrifice, very well, and I really liked the introduction of the idea of ‘the greater good’. This is of course tied up with Dumbledore’s backstory, which challenged everything we thought we knew about Dumbledore (more on this in a minute).

The epilogue needs a mention: it seems that more has been written about those few pages than about most entire books! It seems to me that it was there for two reasons. First, to show what happened to the trio, Ginny, Neville and Draco (interestingly not Luna). It did that fairly well. The accusations of over-neatness in the epilogue are unfounded. It is neat because they all got married and had kids. Shock horror, such an unusual thing to do! The neatness is not that they all got married, but that they all survived. And I’ve already given my view on that. Having said that, I didn’t approve of the names of Harry’s eldest and youngest – naming your kids after your parents? The second reason for the epilogue is so that Harry can deliver the tribute about Snape being the bravest man he ever new. A little cheesy yes, but I think it’s fair enough to put this line in. I just think she could have done it in a less cheesy way. I was glad of the few interviews JK gave soon after the release, giving more detail of those nineteen years and beyond, most satisfying indeed (if you haven’t read any of these, they include things like HRH’s careers, Luna’s future, and even Dumbledore’s sexuality, a revelation that just adds more heartbreak to his story).

In terms of my reading of the book, I read it very quickly in about six hours because I was terrified of it being spoilt! I have to say that other than Dumbledore’s backstory, I was surprised by nothing in it. This is the problem with having such an intense fandom and two years between releases – everything had been discussed so much that I’d thought of all the things that could happen, so nothing was surprising. The price of being such a big fan.

So in the end, it wasn’t the perfect book, but it was overall a brilliant finish to an unbelievable series. It’s just a shame that we always focus on the negatives for a while. It was the same with The Return of the King film – an awesome conclusion to the trilogy, but all anyone talked about was their dissatisfaction, whether it was with Aragorn, Frodo and Sam, Saruman, the ending, or whatever. It hadn’t met people’s hopes of being the perfect film. A few years on, however, it is seen for what it is (brilliant), and we’ll come to that point with ‘Deathly Hallows’ too.


Development of the books
As I’ve read the books over the years I’ve noticed some trends. One is that, obviously, the books tend to get longer, and there is a big leap in length between 3 and 4. I think that the books become more complex as Harry matures and becomes more complex himself. This would make sense, given that they are basically all from Harry’s point of view. And it is over books 3 and 4 that Harry starts to grow up.
One great thing about living while the books were released is that there is time to form theories between releases. Of course, most of those theories get torn apart by the next book. And so do the assumptions that people have about the books.

After book 1, it seemed that this was a good fantasy story, about good versus evil, with three teenagers as the protagonists. After book two this was still true, but the darkness of the chamber of secrets, including things like Ginny writing her own death sentence, added another overtone. After book three, we realised that JKR is truly a brilliant writer, and that these stories are a lot more complex than we first thought – our view of the books was being expanded. Then book four really smashed it all apart: Voldemort was back, Cedric was dead, and suddenly the scope of these books seemed a heck of a lot bigger, and no-one knew anymore where JKR was taking us. Book five brought in the struggles of adolescence and not a small amount of disturbing talk of psychology (linked minds anyone?) and possession. Book six built on what had gone before but, while previous books had included a little backstory, six had huge amounts and this wasn’t a 7 year tale anymore, it went all the way back to the 1920s. And then book seven brought up various minor points such as Dumbledore’s Death Eater leanings, and also shocked us all, I think, with just how close Voldemort got to winning, and what that would have looked like.

So at every stage, the scope of the books was enlarged. At each stage, the fans thought they knew what the books were ‘about’, only to have their view of what JKR was doing massively expanded. I don’t think anyone in 1999 would have realised the scope that the story was to have.


Death and Love
The main themes in the books are death and love, and the relationship between them, so I should really say something about them. Various contrasting views of death are presented in the books. Voldemort sees death as an enemy to be conquered (“you know my goal, to conquer death”). This drives him to create horcruxes. In contrast, Dumbledore says death is “the next great adventure” and not to be feared. Luna clearly believes in life beyond death, and uses the voices beyond the veil as evidence. If a wizard or witch fears death, he or she can choose to remain as a ghost, instead of embracing the world beyond the veil. Frequently, Dumbledore presents his view that there are things worse than death, and he seems to be referring to living without love (“Do not pity the dead, Harry. Rather pity the living, and above all, those who live without love”). Dumbledore has much personal experience of loss of love, when his sister was abused, his father sent to prison, his mother died, his sister killed, his relationship with his brother broken, and the man he loved becoming the man he killed. He can speak with more experience than any other character about love and death. Love has power over death. Lily’s love caused her to sacrifice herself for Harry, and consequently the death curse could not harm him. Harry sacrificed himself for those he loved, and Voldemort’s curses could not hold them.

Love is what is contained in the locked room in the Department of Mysteries. “It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you (Harry) possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all”. Voldemort’s lack of knowledge of love (he has never loved or been loved, having been abandoned at birth) causes him to underestimate its power, and therefore underestimate Harry, who’s greatest weapon is his ability to love so much. Even by book six, Harry doesn’t understand how exceptional he is to love so much after what he has been put through. At the very end it is love which finishes Voldemort. Narcissa betrays him for the sake of her son Draco, allowing Harry a chance to face a now horcrux-less Voldemort.

And by the way, it is also love that made Dumbledore so convinced that Snape was on his side – he believed that Snape’s love for Lily was greater than any reason for Snape to be on Voldemort’s side.
For more on love and death, see http://www.hp-lexicon.org/essays/essay-love-and-death.html.


Prejudice
A second theme that is high on JKR’s priority is that of prejudice and tolerance. Most obviously it is portrayed through the ongoing ridicule of Muggle-borns by purebloods such as the Malfoys, which escalates in Deathly Hallows once Voldemort gains power and starts imprisoning muggle-borns. The page-time given to this theme indicates its importance to Rowling, and she even had Dumbledore (who often speaks for JK) speak out against Malfoy’s prejudice when he is about to be killed.
This theme is also shown in more subtle ways. Lupin, as a werewolf, was “unemployable” after leaving Hogwarts, even though he is clearly safe. For most witches and wizards this is prejudice, but for some like Umbridge it goes further into maliciousness. There is prejudice against other races such as centaurs and goblins. Even Ron shows prejudice against giants in Goblet of Fire. Sirius is prejudiced against Kreacher, Harry against Griphook and Hagrid against the Durmstrang students. Practically all magical folk treat non-human intelligent beings as of lesser importance. The overwhelming emphasis here is on house-elves, who are at best well-treated slaves. Dobby, Winky and Kreacher are all treated appallingly by their masters until they end up at Hogwarts, and only Hermione shows any outright indignation at their treatment.

And I’ll bet most people haven’t noticed that we are all prejudiced against Slytherin. Some of this comes from Hagrid who claims that all dark wizards were in Slytherin (one exception we know of is Pettigrew, who was in Gryffindor, though I have no idea how he got there). But even without this, we are prejudiced against Slytherin, mainly because Harry is prejudiced against Snape and Malfoy, even though Snape was in the end “the bravest man I (Harry) ever knew” and Malfoy was also redeemed. Rowling has made it clear that only some Slytherins are the Death Eater type but still we have this prejudice.

In contrast to all this are Hermione and Dumbledore, who are the two characters through whom Rowling speaks. Hermione is very pro-unity both with wizards and with other magical beings. And Dumbledore is the king of second chances and giving acceptance where others won’t (Snape, Hagrid, Lupin, Dobby)


Souls and Horcruxes
One final thing that interests me in the books is the view they present on souls. It seems that while ‘life’ refers to physical life, which is temporary, ‘soul’ refers to the inner self, including thoughts and emotions. The soul seems to be eternal, hence we have ghosts and the voices behind the veil. Killing, as the “supreme act of evil” (an interesting statement given the emphasis throughout the books that there are things far worse than death) rips the soul apart, the pieces of which can be contained in horcruxes (note that ‘horcrux’ refers to the receptacle, not the soul fragment). The only way to piece back together one’s soul is to be truly remorseful.

Although the piece of a soul in a horcrux can be destroyed by physically destroying the receptacle ‘beyond repair’, it seems that the same is not true for a complete soul – destroying a persons body does not destroy the soul. This is slight speculation however, because we don’t know for certain what happens to a person’s soul once they have been killed by basilisk venom or fiendfyre – the only person in this category is Vincent Crabbe, and we don’t know what became of his soul.

Horcruxes can't generally be made by accident - the process requires the priming of the receptacle prior to the murder taking place. The exception is, of course, the vanquishing of Voldemort in Godric’s Hollow, when his soul was so unstable, having already split five times, that it split spontaneously when he attacked Harry, and part of his soul attached itself to Harry. Therefore, technically speaking, Harry wasn't a Horcrux. (Haha, that'll re-spark the 'I told you so's!). To all intents and purposes, he then functioned as a horcrux, but JKR was keen to stress that he didn't become an evil, cursed object like the diary or locket, and because he hadn't been made by the usual horcrux-creation process, he wasn't technically a horcrux, though he functioned in the same way.

(On a side note, notice that the fragment of Voldemort’s soul that spent years in Albania, possessed Quirrell, and ended up inside his reborn body, was able to gain some physical form. This blurs the boundary between soul and body somewhat!)

There is one more problem however: at the end of ‘Deathly Hallows’, how was the part of Voldemort’s soul that was inside Harry (the 7th fragment) destroyed, without destroying Harry’s body (the receptacle) beyond repair?
Having been hit with the Avada Kedavra, Harry’s soul was fine, and went off for a chat with Dumbledore, so the AK clearly doesn’t destroy a normal, complete soul, but may be that killing (i.e. physically taking life) with the AK is sufficient to destroy the soul fragment, so if the AK is used, the receptacle does not need to be ‘damaged beyond repair’. Therefore Voldemort’s AK could destroy the 7th fragment, which is inside Harry.

However, a problem comes when we ask what happened to the 8th fragment of Voldemort’s soul (the bit in his own body) after he was finally killed in the Great Hall. If it is true that using the AK can destroy a soul fragment (though not a complete soul), then Voldemort would completely be no more. However, JKR has said that he is actually forced to exist in the form we see in King's Cross limbo (in response to a question about whether he became a ghost). I think this would indicate that the AK didn't destroy the 8th fragment of Voldemort’s soul, so there is no reason to suppose that it would have destroyed the 7th fragment in the forest.

Whatever the mechanism, the soul fragment was gone. Harry’s body was killed, so normally he would have gone “on”, beyond the veil, but because his blood was still part of another living body (Voldemort’s) he didn’t. Instead he went to some sort of half-life limbo (I think this is the best interpretation of the King’s Cross scene, given the symbolism of that platform as a halfway point between the two worlds, magical and muggle. However, JKR has said that an alternative interpretation could be that "Harry is unconscious, everything Dumbledore tells him he already knew deep inside. In that state of unconsciousness his mind travels further. Dumbledore is in that case Harry's personification of wisdom; he sees Dumbledore in his head so he can come to certain insights." Anyway, Harry then had the choice to return to the living world – he didn’t have to go back. The presence of his blood in Voldemort’s veins gave him the option, it didn’t tie him to the living world against his will.

When Harry came to, he realised that Voldemort had also experienced something strange. Maybe Voldemort was also conscious of being in the King’s Cross limbo, but I’m not sure how he got there given that the AK didn’t rebound this time so his body wasn’t harmed. The soul should only be released (to limbo, or beyond the veil, or wherever) once the person is dead. But however Voldemort got there, Harry, having a complete soul, experienced a complete existence in King’s Cross limbo, while Voldemort, left with just one eighth of a soul, was reduced to something less, whatever it was.

The whole situation is further complicated by the fact that, on the very same page, we discover from Dumbledore that Voldemort killed Harry, but Harry isn’t dead. I believe that what Dumbledore means is that Harry has been killed in that his body has died and his soul has moved on (for now), but he is not finally dead and gone, his soul is not yet beyond the veil.

What is it that Dumbledore is so insistent that is worse than death? It is “living without love” – more emphasis on the great theme of love as greater than death. In King’s Cross limbo, Dumbledore tells Harry not to pity the dead, referring to the thing on the platform that we are told is Voldemort. But Voldemort can’t be dead, because he’s still alive (physically) in the forbidden forest. Therefore Dumbledore is again mixing his words and referring to Voldemort as dead in that his soul (or the fragment that remains) has departed from his body for a while, and gone into King’s Cross limbo, not that his soul is yet beyond the veil. However this still doesn’t explain how the soul fragment managed to get into King’s Cross limbo, as Voldemort’s body has not been hit by the AK this time.

To summarise all that, soul-splitting is an active process, with the intention of making a horcrux. Accidental horcrux creation can occur when a soul is sufficiently unstable and another act of murder splits the soul without the intention of the killer; in this case the soul fragment attaches itself to the “nearest living soul”. Soul fragments are destroyed when the horcrux (the receptacle) is destroyed beyond repair. Harry got into King’s Cross limbo because his blood was present in Voldemort’s body, and this gave him a choice of whether to go on or go back. I don’t yet know how either Voldemort’s soul fragment or Dumbledore got there, or how the 7th fragment of Voldemort’s soul, inside Harry, was destroyed!

One more important thing to remember: JKR has stressed that what occurred in the forest at the end of DH (and all the subsequent implications) was not scientific. Therefore we cannot say things like 'Harry could never have been killed by the Bellatrix because he was tied to life by Lily's blood in Voldemort's veins'. It's not as simple as that. the connection between Harry and Voldemort was unprecedented and no-one really knows how it works. I suspected that this was the case, but it's nice to hear it from Jo, and it's a good reminder that all my analyses should be taken as theories, and no more!

The Dark Knight highlights falling standards

I went to see The Dark Knight last night. It was very good, go and see it. But this isn’t a review – this is a blog about the British Board of Film Classification (BBFC), sparked by seeing the film last night.
The Dark Knight was classified as a 12A (more on the existence of the 12A rating itself in a moment). According to the BBFC’s website, the 12A rating includes the following (italics mine):

“Violence must not dwell on detail. There should be no emphasis on injuries or blood. Sexual violence may only be implied or briefly and discreetly indicated.”

Anyone who has seen The Dark Knight will know that it clearly contravenes this rule – there is blatant emphasis on the facial burns sustained by Harvey Dent, one of the main characters.

The website also says, on violence:

“In making decisions our concerns, especially at the lower categories, include
• portrayal of violence as a normal solution to problems
• heroes who inflict pain and injury
• callousness towards victims
• encouraging aggressive attitudes
• taking pleasure in pain or humiliation”

I’m pretty shocked at this, because The Dark Knight arguably contains every single one of these. As Gotham City descends into anarchy, violence is the only solution considered, both by the police and by Batman. Batman and Dent, the heroes, both inflict pain and injury. The Joker and Two-Face are both very callous towards victims. Batman’s and the Joker’s actions encourage aggressive attitudes. And the Joker takes much pleasure in the anarchy and intimidation he is causing.

There’s more; check this out:

“Dangerous techniques (eg combat techniques, hanging, suicide and self-harming) should not dwell on imitable detail or appear pain or harm free.” (from BBFC’s description of a 12A)

“in one of the stronger scenes, Batman repeatedly beats the Joker during an interrogation. The blows however are all masked from the camera and despite both their weight and force; the Joker shows no sign of injury” (from BBFC’s justification of classifying the film as a 12A”)

Contradiction anyone?

Also: “sadistic violence or terrorisation” is one of the BBFC’s taboo themes, which is of “particular concern” to them. Usual action is “intervention such as making cuts” or “refusing classification altogether”.

However The Dark Knight’s villain The Joker indulges in both sadistic violence and terrorisation. Now I’m not saying this should cause it to be refused classification, but it should really be a higher rating than 12A, because one of the BBFC’s 3 golden considerations is “is the material, at the age group concerned, likely to be harmful?”, and I really think it could be for children.

There is no conceivable way that The Dark Knight should be a 12A. It’s easily a 15. Based on the BBFC’s own rules, it is a lot worse that The Matrix (rated 15). The inconsistency is highlighted by the fact that the original cartoony Batman films from the early 90s were rated as 12s, a higher rating than the darker recent films.

Now, about that 12A classification. It was introduced in 2002 as a replacement for the 12 certificate at cinemas. The meaning of 12A is that it allows under-12s to see the film at the cinema if they are accompanied by an adult. The information isn’t explicit but as far as I can tell, ‘adult’ can be any ‘responsible adult’ over 12, including a sibling, and “cinema staff are required to use their discretion” to decide on admittance. In terms of who is allowed to see a film, this is almost the same as a Uc, U or PG – except that all an under-12 needs to see a 12A is a 13 year old sibling. Not difficult. The old 12 classification worked well – it prevented under-12s from seeing inappropriate material, just like the 15 and 18 rating do. The cynic in me is very interested that the 12A rating was given the go-ahead just before the first Harry Potter film came out – a franchise which would include films which would really have to be classified at 12s but would be immensely popular with under-12s.
Maybe I’m just conservative, but I think it’s clear for anyone to see that film classification standards are falling. Films that would have been a 15 a decade ago are now 12s, and 18s are becoming 15s (did anyone see The Last King of Scotland? Never should have been a 15). I’m just worried that if this trend continues, in 20 years time films that would have been 18s when I was growing up will be PGs.

Thursday, July 03, 2008

Prince Caspian – The Good and the Bad



I’ve seen the latest Narnia film twice now. I often have to watch films twice before working out what I think of them, especially films which I care about a lot, such as those adapted from books of which I am a fan. Here is what I thought of the film, divided into the good and the bad.



The Good

1. It’s a good story. The book is good, and the filmmakers adapted it well. The major plot change from the book was the assault on Miraz’s castle, and I thought it worked well. It was an excellent action set-piece and also fleshed out Peter’s and Caspian’s characters a lot.

2. The visuals were excellent. Obviously it was filmed in New Zealand so the scenery is quite spectacular, but I thought the CGI was also very good, where it hadn’t been in places in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. There was a large variety of creatures, which all looked good, and sets such as Aslan’s How and Miraz’s castle look awesome.

3. As an action film, it really delivers. Two big set-piece battles are both well thought out and original. There is even one tactic I doubt anyone has even thought of before!

4. It didn’t try to be LOTR. When I saw the trailer I thought it looked similar to a lot of things in Rings, but it’s most definitely different. Obviously there are parallels, both being fantasy novels written by two best friends. But Caspian is very much its own film and doesn’t try to live up to LOTR. I feel this is critical, to distance itself from such an epic.

5. The religious themes and analogies are not avoided, and there are quite a lot of interesting ideas in the script. It’s been over a decade since I read the books so I’m not sure how much of this was original to the film and how much is from CS Lewis, but either way, it gives the film a nice theological edge.

6. The acting (in general) was good. Georgie Henley, Skandar Keynes, Anna Popplewell and Ben Barnes all do a good job (though restricted by the script – see below), and the adult cast are all very competent in their roles.

7. The ending song (The Call, by Regina Spektor) is as good an ending song as I’ve heard apart from LOTR. It fits perfectly with the knowledge that Peter and Susan won’t be returning, and contributes a great deal to reason 8…

8. The sense of loss at the end of the film is very poignant. It is built up from the very beginning with the Pevensies, developing what they go through in living the double life between England and Narnia, and concludes in the final scene as they return to England, the older two for the final time. I found I could really empathise with them. I can't remember the last film that made me feel like that.



The Bad

1. William Moseley is often not convincing as Peter. It’s hard to know how much is due to him and how much to the director, but he just seems to be taking himself to seriously. I know this is part of Peter’s character, but it’s just not convincingly done.

2. The infamous romance between Caspian and Susan is a little silly to be honest. It’s added in to try to give extra interest, but it’s really not needed and doesn’t really work. It looks like it’s just there to keep the little girls happy (which, to be blunt, it probably is).

3. The script is inconsistent in its quality. Bits are good, but bits are very poor. It feels like they ran out of time and interest in the writing stage. This makes it difficult for the actors at times.

4. The filmmakers tried to cram in too much comic relief. The banter between the Pevensies is good and works well, but many lines from the Narnians just aren’t funny if you’re any older than 8, and some of them are just stupid.



Many of the downsides to the film are a consequence of it being a family film, but I really do think the silly one-liners and romance could be removed and the film still be appealing to kids. But overall, the film was good. I thought it was more exciting and convincing than the first one, and I was significantly moved by it. The plot was great, the pace was fine, the action was exciting. Bring on The Dawn Treader!



P.S. This film had an ‘epilogue’ section nearly as long as that at the end of Return of the King…I wonder if anyone will be complaining about this one? (see earlier post from May 14th)



P.P.S. Interesting trivia: Actor Warwick Davies (Nikabrik) portrayed the characters Reepicheep and Glimfeather in the BBC productions of Prince Caspian and The Voyage of The Dawn Treader (1989) and The Silver Chair (1990).