Comments on: The Great Humbug Irony http://thehogshead.org/the-great-humbug-irony-564/ Harry Potter News and Commentary Thu, 18 Mar 2010 15:13:23 +0000 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.9.1 hourly 1 By: reyhan http://thehogshead.org/the-great-humbug-irony-564/comment-page-1/#comment-283858 reyhan Sat, 15 Dec 2007 04:39:34 +0000 http://swordofgryffindor.com/2007/12/12/the-great-humbug-irony/#comment-283858 Travis, I'm not as certain that there isn't that much change in the characters in Harry Potter. Think of Kreacher, who moves from curse-filled spite to tender maker of late-night sandwiches. Or Ron Weasley, who totters on the brink of envy, jealousy, spite and outright dislike of Harry several times, before finding his way back to the role of loyal friend. And Draco, who finds that a bred-in-the-bone sense of superiority and entitlement does not necessarily equip you for committing murder. And Peter Pettigrew whose hand falters at a crucial moment, with disastrous personal results. And Harry - Harry doesn't need redemption, being essentially good. But he does go through changes. Not merely the obvious changes involved in growing up, seeing the world in a more mature way, coming to terms with the fact that his grown-ups aren't perfect, and deciding to make his own decisions in the face of incomplete or contradictory information, and such. But also changing from an innocent young boy who did not use his powers to harm the aunt and uncle (and repulsive cousin) who made his life miserable to one who could use the Cruciatus without a blink. Based on Dave's analysis, I watched Scrooge's changes. What struck me about them is that Scrooge doesn't go directly from cold miser to loving philanthrope. His way is paved with regret, sorrow, fear and horror. The regret, sorrow and fear and horror are so well depicted, and thus so believable, that the final change does not seem incredible at all. Travis, I’m not as certain that there isn’t that much change in the characters in Harry Potter. Think of Kreacher, who moves from curse-filled spite to tender maker of late-night sandwiches. Or Ron Weasley, who totters on the brink of envy, jealousy, spite and outright dislike of Harry several times, before finding his way back to the role of loyal friend. And Draco, who finds that a bred-in-the-bone sense of superiority and entitlement does not necessarily equip you for committing murder. And Peter Pettigrew whose hand falters at a crucial moment, with disastrous personal results.

And Harry – Harry doesn’t need redemption, being essentially good. But he does go through changes. Not merely the obvious changes involved in growing up, seeing the world in a more mature way, coming to terms with the fact that his grown-ups aren’t perfect, and deciding to make his own decisions in the face of incomplete or contradictory information, and such. But also changing from an innocent young boy who did not use his powers to harm the aunt and uncle (and repulsive cousin) who made his life miserable to one who could use the Cruciatus without a blink.

Based on Dave’s analysis, I watched Scrooge’s changes. What struck me about them is that Scrooge doesn’t go directly from cold miser to loving philanthrope. His way is paved with regret, sorrow, fear and horror. The regret, sorrow and fear and horror are so well depicted, and thus so believable, that the final change does not seem incredible at all.

]]> By: Mary Jo Neyer http://thehogshead.org/the-great-humbug-irony-564/comment-page-1/#comment-283752 Mary Jo Neyer Sat, 15 Dec 2007 00:05:41 +0000 http://swordofgryffindor.com/2007/12/12/the-great-humbug-irony/#comment-283752 A few words on the tradition in which Dickens was writing. Many Christmas holiday traditions were derived from Roman Saturnalia customs, and among the customs of Saturnalia was the telling of ghost stories. The following is a translation of Pliny's famous ghost story: There was in Athens a house, spacious and open, but with an infamous reputation, as if filled with pestilence. For in the dead of night, a noise like the clashing of iron could be heard. And if one listened carefully, it sounded like the rattling of chains. At first the noise seemed to be at a distance, but then it would approach, nearer, nearer, nearer. Suddenly a phantom would appear, an old man, pale and emaciated, with a long beard, and hair that appeared driven by the wind. The fetters on his feet and hands rattled as he moved them. Any dwellers in the house passed sleepless nights under the most dismal terrors imaginable. The nights without rest led them to a kind of madness, and as the horrors in their minds increased, onto a path toward death. Even in the daytime--when the phantom did not appear--the memory of the nightmare was so strong that it still passed before their eyes. The terror remained when the cause of it was gone. Damned as uninhabitable, the house was at last deserted, left to the spectral monster. But in hope that some tenant might be found who was unaware of the malevolence within it, the house was posted for rent or sale. It happened that a philosopher named Athenodorus came to Athens at that time. Reading the posted bill, he discovered the dwelling's price. The extraordinary cheapness raised his suspicion, yet when he heard the whole story, he was not in the least put off. Indeed, he was eager to take the place. And did so immediately. As evening drew near, Athenodorus had a couch prepared for him in the front section of the house. He asked for a light and his writing materials, then dismissed his retainers. To keep his mind from being distracted by vain terrors of imaginary noises and apparitions, he directed all his energy toward his writing. For a time the night was silent. Then came the rattling of fetters. Athenodorus neither lifted up his eyes, nor laid down his pen. Instead he closed his ears by concentrating on his work. But the noise increased and advanced closer till it seemed to be at the door, and at last in the very chamber. Athenodorus looked round and saw the apparition exactly as it had been described to him. It stood before him, beckoning with one finger. Athenodorus made a sign with his hand that the visitor should wait a little, and bent over his work. The ghost, however, shook the chains over the philosopher's head, beckoning as before. Athenodorus now took up his lamp and followed. The ghost moved slowly, as if held back by his chains. Once it reached the courtyard, it suddenly vanished. Athenodorus, now deserted, carefully marked the spot with a handful of grass and leaves. The next day he asked the magistrate to have the spot dug up. There they found--intertwined with chains--the bones that were all that remained of a body that had long lain in the ground. Carefully, the skeletal relics were collected and given proper burial, at public expense. The tortured ancient was at rest. And the house in Athens was haunted no more. Return to return_lib (3K) The Library Return to The Nostalgia League I am quite sure Dickens was aware of this story, and used it in forming our Christmas Carol ghost. A few words on the tradition in which Dickens was writing. Many Christmas holiday traditions were derived from Roman Saturnalia customs, and among the customs of Saturnalia was the telling of ghost stories.
The following is a translation of Pliny’s famous ghost story:
There was in Athens a house, spacious and open, but with an infamous reputation, as if filled with pestilence. For in the dead of night, a noise like the clashing of iron could be heard. And if one listened carefully, it sounded like the rattling of chains. At first the noise seemed to be at a distance, but then it would approach, nearer, nearer, nearer. Suddenly a phantom would appear, an old man, pale and emaciated, with a long beard, and hair that appeared driven by the wind. The fetters on his feet and hands rattled as he moved them.
Any dwellers in the house passed sleepless nights under the most dismal terrors imaginable. The nights without rest led them to a kind of madness, and as the horrors in their minds increased, onto a path toward death. Even in the daytime–when the phantom did not appear–the memory of the nightmare was so strong that it still passed before their eyes. The terror remained when the cause of it was gone.
Damned as uninhabitable, the house was at last deserted, left to the spectral monster. But in hope that some tenant might be found who was unaware of the malevolence within it, the house was posted for rent or sale.
It happened that a philosopher named Athenodorus came to Athens at that time. Reading the posted bill, he discovered the dwelling’s price. The extraordinary cheapness raised his suspicion, yet when he heard the whole story, he was not in the least put off. Indeed, he was eager to take the place. And did so immediately.
As evening drew near, Athenodorus had a couch prepared for him in the front section of the house. He asked for a light and his writing materials, then dismissed his retainers. To keep his mind from being distracted by vain terrors of imaginary noises and apparitions, he directed all his energy toward his writing.
For a time the night was silent. Then came the rattling of fetters. Athenodorus neither lifted up his eyes, nor laid down his pen. Instead he closed his ears by concentrating on his work. But the noise increased and advanced closer till it seemed to be at the door, and at last in the very chamber. Athenodorus looked round and saw the apparition exactly as it had been described to him. It stood before him, beckoning with one finger.
Athenodorus made a sign with his hand that the visitor should wait a little, and bent over his work. The ghost, however, shook the chains over the philosopher’s head, beckoning as before. Athenodorus now took up his lamp and followed. The ghost moved slowly, as if held back by his chains. Once it reached the courtyard, it suddenly vanished.
Athenodorus, now deserted, carefully marked the spot with a handful of grass and leaves. The next day he asked the magistrate to have the spot dug up. There they found–intertwined with chains–the bones that were all that remained of a body that had long lain in the ground. Carefully, the skeletal relics were collected and given proper burial, at public expense. The tortured ancient was at rest. And the house in Athens was haunted no more.

Return to
return_lib (3K)
The Library Return to

The Nostalgia League
I am quite sure Dickens was aware of this story, and used it in forming our Christmas Carol ghost.

]]> By: Travis Prinzi http://thehogshead.org/the-great-humbug-irony-564/comment-page-1/#comment-283601 Travis Prinzi Fri, 14 Dec 2007 14:21:22 +0000 http://swordofgryffindor.com/2007/12/12/the-great-humbug-irony/#comment-283601 I'm more than a little surprised no one's commented on this yet! Great essay, Dave, and a great start to our <em>A Christmas Carol</em> discussion. I think that after 7 books of Rowling's character development, most of the characters ended up being quite a bit more static than we expected. Rowling's strong trait was in getting us to think someone was evil, when they were really good (or vice versa). She wasn't quite as good at navigating an authentic character change; in some sense, not as much "choice" went into Rowling's series as she intended...at least not as far as Harry (who seems to be "just good") and Voldemort (who seems almost programmed for evil). I'd argue the most significant choices leading to change in the series came from Dumbledore and Snape, both of whom needed to repent sins. The problem with this, as far as Snape goes, is that in order to protect her plot surprise in the Prince's Tale (which was hardly a surprise at all by the time fandom got done speculating), she had to keep us away from Snape for most of DH. As a result, many people found DH Snape incongruous with what we knew about him for 6 books. Part of this is that the series is about Harry, so we were never really taken through Snape's psychological process of transformation. We definitely got more into Dumbledore's mind by the end of DH than we ever did Snape. I’m more than a little surprised no one’s commented on this yet!

Great essay, Dave, and a great start to our A Christmas Carol discussion.

I think that after 7 books of Rowling’s character development, most of the characters ended up being quite a bit more static than we expected. Rowling’s strong trait was in getting us to think someone was evil, when they were really good (or vice versa). She wasn’t quite as good at navigating an authentic character change; in some sense, not as much “choice” went into Rowling’s series as she intended…at least not as far as Harry (who seems to be “just good”) and Voldemort (who seems almost programmed for evil). I’d argue the most significant choices leading to change in the series came from Dumbledore and Snape, both of whom needed to repent sins.

The problem with this, as far as Snape goes, is that in order to protect her plot surprise in the Prince’s Tale (which was hardly a surprise at all by the time fandom got done speculating), she had to keep us away from Snape for most of DH. As a result, many people found DH Snape incongruous with what we knew about him for 6 books. Part of this is that the series is about Harry, so we were never really taken through Snape’s psychological process of transformation. We definitely got more into Dumbledore’s mind by the end of DH than we ever did Snape.

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