First off, I love the “Harry Potter” series. So much so that when the sixth book came out last year, my sister and I rented a hotel room and, with sporadic commentary, read all 652 pages of it overnight.
When the last movie, “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire,” opened in November 2005, we were first in line at the midnight premiere, “coincidentally” wearing maroon scarves and glasses.
So it may seem odd, even downright blasphemous, for me to say this: But I have no problem with author J.K. Rowling killing off the boy wizard in the final book.
It’s not that I don’t have a strange fondness for the scarred teenager. I just think his death would be a fitting end to him–and the series itself.
Rowling hinted in an interview Monday that Harry may not survive the seventh and last book, due out next year. She said she understands “the mentality of an author who thinks: Well, I’m gonna kill them off because that means there can be no non-author-written sequels. So it will end with me, and after I’m dead and gone they won’t be able to bring back that character.”
(And if you’ve read any of the scary-obsessive Harry Potter fan fiction out there, you can see her point.)
There’s something to be said for ending a series in the way that’s most natural and most believable–and that breaks book-sales records in the process.
Why not let Harry die? Isn’t death the ultimate sacrifice? Hasn’t that been the resonating theme in her other six books?
The four most important people in Harry’s life–his parents, Sirius Black and Professor Dumbledore–have all died, in some way, trying to protect him.
So wouldn’t it make sense? Harry throwing his scrawny 17-year-old body in front of Lord Voldemort’s poised wand to save his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermoine Granger? It would be the kind of heroic move we’ve come to expect from Harry.
And to be honest, Harry needs to die to save one more thing: his fans.
Yes, I’m borderline obsessed with the books to the point that I peer into blogger Pensieves on a semi-regular basis. I’ve re-read almost all of the books, engaged in lengthy debates with co-workers about Horcruxes and daydream about what it’s like to be a mega-rich female novelist. Seriously, I don’t how much longer I can keep up with this!
But I’m not so obsessed that I’ve become possessive of the characters on which Rowling built her $1 billion empire.
Sure, I’d love to see Harry defeat the evil Dark Lord, humiliate archrival Draco Malfoy in some fantastic way and turn porky cousin Dudley Dursley into a toad (and maybe reporter Rita Skeeter into a government flack).
But what then?
Once Harry and his friends leave the magical realm of Hogwarts, they’ll enter the boring world of adulthood. They’ll get full-time jobs, complain about rising housing prices, join wizard support groups and reminisce incessantly about the good ol’ days fighting evil and saving the world.
How exciting would “Harry Potter and the 30-year Mortgage” be, or “Harry Potter and the Evil Exec from Marketing”?
So I say end the series with his death. That way we won’t have to read about his job search, rental woes, dating disasters or an eroding self-esteem.
In death, he will always be Harry Potter, the courageous boy wizard who always did the right thing, even if it took away points from Gryffindor.
And I can have my life back.
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ritaRedEye@tribune.com
