Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Am I a shallow reader? or what?

In a recent visit to my public library the series of books by J. K. Rowling was brought to my attention. Harry Potter books rocked the publishing world several years ago in a burst of well-orchestrated media blitz. I looked over the reviews and pooh-poohed the hype as mere advertising. What else was expected of a publishing house? Selling books was what counted, before all else after all.

Readers worldwide acclaimed the work so I dutifully perused the book. I saw it as an attempt to build a modern fairy tale to displace the old gruesome ones by Hans Christen Anderson and the Mother Goose rhymes. Well, that in itself was commendable. Blood and gore, mistreatment of the unfortunate, and finally triumph of love over greed, were the messages that didn't stir my soul, certainly as a tale to be read to children at bedtime. The story didn't capture my imagination as it appeared to have captured the fancy of those choosing memorable books for posterity.

I couldn't lose myself in the story because of the prejudice I set up against it as bedtime reading - for children for heaven's sake! In every literary discussion I made statements to that effect. Then I was confronted by someone close to me who insisted that as Potter's life unfolded so did a wealth of social commentary that had as much appeal to adults as the magic appealed to children.

So I read the book through again, and, yes, I could see the social commentary that I didn't care to look for at first. So what?

For myself, no longer in search of impressing anyone else, especially children, I read for relaxation and escape. So there is no attempt to delve into the subtle meaning of life and I don't intend to change that. To pick up personal anxiety and frustration from stories would be no relaxation at all.

But I discovered that what I get is practise with language. I lose myself in word pictures of landscapes and emotions more vivid and impressive than any other media. And I prefer settings in the past, far removed from the reality of my everyday stresses. But I will read the next Potter books anyway.