A Review: Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s stone, by J K Rowling

The Harry Potter series in recent decades has been a literary phenomenon and a landmark in fantasy writing over the ages.  My first Harry Potter was the second one, Chamber of Secrets, but as predicted, I could not make sense of what had then I read since I hadn’t read the first. A colleague of my mother was a Harry Potter buff, and lent me the first one. Like every other excited teenager, I too was hooked, got my books early, devoured them like religion and obsessed over the stories and characters. I grew up with the books, and read them over and over, often in competition with my cousins.  I also eagerly awaited the movies that came out, and slowly, my heart shattered. The Harry Potter  I had envisioned , and the way some of those stories were told had done little justice to reading the master pieces themselves, and, sadly, over time, I stopped obsessing over them as much as I used to. In fact, my reading methods changed. I no longer was as absorbed in the books I read, and ceased to retain a perfect memory of what I read.

I continued to read though, a tad impatiently, until a fellow bookworm friend asked me to revisit the books I used to read when younger, and maybe notice if I read them with different eyes.

I took up on that suggestion, and Harry Potter was the first series I challenged.  They had been a big part of me growing up. So re-reading it after a long time was also a nostalgia trip. I may receive brickbats from other Potter aficionados for my perspective on things, but in my defence, hey, after five years of separation, I am trying to get my religion back here!

In the first book, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, we are introduced to the Dursleys, a seemingly picture perfect respectable upper middle class thatcherite family with a skeleton in their closet; their cousins, the Potters, a family as out of the ordinary as can be. Ominous occurrences, such as owls in daytime, people in cloaks, and shooting stars are a prelude to the surprising arrival of baby Harry Potter on the Dursleys’ doorstep. Harry, the tiny skeletal boy, the skeleton in the Dursley closet, grows up in a closet as the family’s punch bag, until the days leading up to his eleventh birthday, where the extraordinary pursues Harry and plagues the Dursleys to the point of denial. Answers arrive in the shape of Hargid, a huge friendly giant with a letter of acceptance into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hagrid also reveals to him his true identity and calling, not only as a wizard, but as The Boy Who Lived, the only survivor of a fatal encounter as a baby, with Voldemort, a murderous malignant tumour on the magical landscape, a notorious, seemingly unsurpassable practitioner of dark magic, which has made him famous throughout the magical world.

Harry is fascinated by the magical world he belongs to and dealing with his new found identity (but not fame).

He enters Hogwarts, gets sorted into his house, Gryffindor (for the brave only), makes new best friends, Ron( his bro) and Hermione (the sensible ), encounters and learns things strange, interesting and fascinating, discovers a prodigal passion for Quidditch, runs into a pile of mischief like a good eleven year old, (one does wonder, if given the excessive punishment he received at the Dursleys’ , Harry has become rather subconsciously thick skinned, and knows he would be treated far better at Hogwarts, prompting his proactive risk taking?) and becomes the target of a professor,Severus Snape’s dislike. This dislike, taken along by a series of events whose dots he and his two friends manage to connect, uncovers a conspiracy to steal the famed Philosopher’s Stone. 

Given the dismissive response they receive from the professors, they take it upon themselves to save the stone, embarking in an overnight adventure that tests their mettle. And the surprise that meets Harry in the final stage, an unexpected face off with an enemy one could not imagine, and a memorable battle to save the stone, the day, and by extension, the world.

Harry wakes up in the hospital wing, well rested and recovering, to a pile of sweets and an indulgent headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, who has the answers and concludes their adventure.  Harry, Ron and Hermione reunite for a memorable term end feast, where, as the high point, their crazy adventure wins points for their house, Gryffindor, and wins them the House Cup.

The book ends on a note of euphoria, as the academic term ends, and the students have to head back home. Hagrid(is he Rowling’s take on Roald Dahl’s Big Friendly Giant and Santa?) presents him one of his treasures, an album with pictures of his late parents. The story ends on a happy, hopeful note, with promise of something exciting to come.

Certainly the book has its light parts, but it also broaches things that most children that age start to think about. The non-obsessive detachment that Harry has, in spite of his issue-filled backdrop, and by simply being a normal eleven year old kid, and even viewing himself in that light, allows us to connect with him. His excitement at the magical world opening up in front of him, and the many sides, good, bad and ugly, washing over him, allows the audience to bathe in that sensation too. The way he has been written into this book, is that certain aspects of his life are revealed, and enough breathing space has been given in the character’s headspace, for readers to imagine his experiences, and draw up their own version of him. Harry may have begun as an Oliver Twist type deprived orphan, but he embraces his destiny, tries to rise to the challenge as much as an eleven year old in a magical new world can. This becomes a  symbol and a role model for his readers. This would probably explain how emotionally difficult it was for a lot of Harry Potter lovers to reconcile with the on-screen portrayal of the character, and the narration of the story. I suppose seeing Harry and his world tangibly contribute to the gap between the books and the films.

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone is a fairy tale. It is a fairy tale, written with the whimsical quality needed to capture an eleven year old reader. The best thing about Rowling’s writing is that she does not underestimate the children who would read her book, and has therefore, imparted a certain strong writing quality to the book. 

As an adult, the feeling the book left me with, was a happy one; a book with a child protagonist I would love, the right dose of whimsical, magical and adventurous, a motley bunch of complete characters, and a treat to the imagination, and to good literature. A yummy book indeed!