July 23, 2007

Put On Your Dress Robes – Harry’s Back!

I’m only about eight chapters into my copy of the new “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows”, so I’m not going to write any sort of review here. Besides, I wouldn’t want to spoil it for anyone. But I will say that this book is exciting – I never would have dreamed that Harry was really Hermione’s twin brother and the son of Darth Vader, or that Ron would end up singing in a transvestite bar in Charing Cross, billed as Luscious Lulu!

I wonder if mankind has ever seen anything quite like this whole Harry Potter thing. The other night, as the clock counted down to that midnight hour when credit cards would magically turn cash into bookshelf-busting tomes of witchcraft and wizardry, people all over the world pulled on their Severus Snape costumes and practiced their best Alan Rickman scowls at festive Harry Potter book release parties.

I had the honor of representing the memory of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore at one of these parties, held in the Brighton, Michigan Borders store. I worked for Borders a few years ago, and my appearance as the late headmaster of the Hogwarts School is still something of a tradition at the Brighton store. Apparently the consensus is that I look pretty darned good with a long scraggly gray beard and hair, wearing a floor-length burgundy robe covered with a golden phoenix print.

My task as Professor Dumbledore is to shuffle around amiably, trying not to step on the hem of my robe and decapitate myself, signing autographs and posing for pictures with young Harry Potter enthusiasts. Later, I am supposed to help “control the queue.”

For those of you who lack lexicological sophistication that comes from occasionally dressing up as a fictional British character, a “queue” means lots of people standing in line and cheerfully shuffling along in an orderly manner, patiently waiting to be separated from their money. That is, unless one group of queue members comes to believe that some other group of queue members might be cheerfully shuffling along closer to being separated from their money than they deserve, at which point it’s up to Professor Dumbledore to step in, crack a few jokes and try to prevent bloodshed.

If you are not immersed in the world of Harry Potter, it might be kind of hard to imagine standing in line until 2 a.m. to buy a book. It might be even harder to imagine going home and reading it straight through, savoring every one of the 759 pages of hexes and potions and spell-slinging teenage angst, then stumbling around to all your friends so that you can gaze at them through bleary eyes and happily tell them that, while you’re not going to disclose how it ended, you can assure them that they will like it.

So what is it about Harry Potter that has captured the imaginations of so may people? William Shakespeare might have been nearly as good a writer as J.K. Rowling, and he was very popular in his own time, but to the best of my knowledge the release of a new play never prompted thousands of his fans to wander around Ye Old Bookestorre carrying novelty human skulls, participating in Creative Codpiece costume contests and saying, “Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio.”

I think the secret may be that Harry Potter, courageous foe of evil and potentially the greatest wizard since, well, Dumbledore, is also a complete dork. He has round black glasses. He is hopeless at dealing with girls. He has spent about half of his school career in detention. He even has a crappy haircut. As much as we all like a hero who is heroic, we apparently like him even better if he always dumps a cup of tea in his lap and has spinach in his teeth.

In any case, Harry Potter fans are in a sort of heaven right now, enjoying the last book in a series that has been captivating our dorky collective imagination for the past 10 years.

And if you’re not yet a fan, I suggest that you get started. You have no idea how much fun you’ve been missing.

   © 2007, Michael Ball