A couple of weeks ago, I delivered a guest lecture for one of my colleagues and it was one of the best experiences I’ve had as an instructor. The class itself was covering the basics of mythology and its role in society. I was asked to discuss how witches and wizards are being represented in today’s popular literature. More specifically, how the Harry Potter series’ representations of witches/wizards fit into the overall understanding of modern myths.
Needless to say, I was very excited about the prospect of delivering a lecture on one of the best reading experiences I’ve had over the past nine years. In addition, I was being given an opportunity to discuss something I’d only discussed with my thesis committee: my thesis. After all, I doubt anyone but my committee has read it. This lecture provided me the opportunity to cut some of the fat from my thesis and present it in a manner that would be digestible by an undergraduate audience.
The class was a fantastic audience. They asked probing questions that demonstrated they’d paid attention throughout the whole lecture. Unlike my usual lectures on grammar, punctuation, and essay structure, all of these students were wide awake and attentive. I couldn’t have been more pleased.
After the lecture, a friend of mine showed interest in what I covered, so I thought my blog would be the perfect place for the written version of my presentation. And that’s exactly what I present to you today, my analysis of the Harry Potter series … minus the off-topic protrusions that characterize my normal delivery process, of course.
Reflected Images: J.K. Rowling’s Posthuman Epic
Recently, Harry Potter series was declared the most successful film franchise of all time, topping even James Bond, and with fewer films. The power of J.K. Rowling’s imagination has captivated millions of filmgoers, but what’s more impressive is the fact that her series is also one of the most successful stories in publishing history.
The story is relatively simple: a humble orphan learns he has magical powers, learns more about his abilities, and battles with the forces of evil. This outline could describe any number of myths and stories throughout the years. Indeed, this could describe the Star Wars saga. Both Harry Potter and Star Wars share a common mythical ancestry: the hero myth. In addition, they also share another interesting aspect: a focus on technological influences on society.
One of the more interesting characteristics of Rowling’s story is the battle between differing versions of humanity, or rather different conceptions of what it means to be human. Harry and Voldemort’s battle illustrates a struggle that is very pertinent to contemporary society: as technology changes so does our perception of its possibilities. Voldemort uses technology in order to extend and prolong his life, discounting the disastrous effects it has not only for his community but also for his own consciousness. Harry, on the other hand, accepts the fact that human consciousness is intrinsically tied with body and that life has one inevitability: We are all mortal, and so we all must eventually succumb to death.
In order to better explain my approach to Rowling’s series, it is important to explain a few of the theories used in my analysis. James Berger’s book
After the End: Representations of the Apocalypse, N. Katherine Hayles’
How We Became Posthuman: Virtual Bodies in Cybernetics, Literature, and Informatics, and Joseph L Henderson and Joseph Campbell’s work on the heroic myth have all been especially helpful in illuminating Rowling’s work.
Trauma and Apocalypse
Representations of trauma and apocalypse are fascinating subjects in literature. Trauma has always been around, but not until Freud began studying shell-shocked soldiers of World War I did trauma’s psychological effects become the focus of extensive study and analysis. James Berger takes Freud’s theories and expands on them to include traumas suffered at the cultural, or societal, level: the apocalyptic event.
Trauma is the psychiatric form of apocalypse… Trauma produces symptoms in its wake, after the event, and we reconstruct trauma by interpreting these symptoms, reading back in time… Both apocalypse and trauma present the most difficult question of what happened “before,” and what is the situation “after.” The apocalyptic-historical-traumatic event becomes a crux or pivot that forces a retelling and revaluing of all events that lead up to and all that follow. (Berger 20-1)
Indeed, the apocalypse is frequently depicted in art and literature, and at times real-life scenarios seem to mimic those representations. 9/11 and Hiroshima/Nagasaki are two events that can be considered modern apocalyptic events as the images of those tragedies proliferated around the world, creating a feeling of shared-experience despite the distance most people were from the events. For the people living at “ground zero” all forms of narrative, the normalcy of their lives, were destroyed, obliterated to the point where nothing but a gaping void was left. This void, this lack of narrative, produces similar traumatic symptoms felt by an individual but at the societal level. Instead of one person suffering from the scars of trauma, a whole group of people demonstrate symptoms that stem from a shared traumatic experience.
Posthumanity and Information Technologies
The concept of a posthuman existence is relatively new, or rather tied with the advance of information technologies, most notably the Internet. As technology takes over tasks for the human brain, posthuman theorists beg the question: “In an age where technology’s influence over us grows day by day, how do we define what it means to be human?” What concerns N. Katherine Hayles, in her book
How We Became Posthuman, is the perception in representations of human interaction with technology that the body can be dispensed with in a few keystrokes.
If my nightmare is a culture inhabited by posthumans who regard their bodies as fashion accessories rather than the ground of being, my dream is a version of the posthuman that embraces the possibilities of information technologies without being seduced by fantasies of unlimited power and disembodied immortality… and that understands human life is embedded in a material world of great complexity, one in which we depend for our continued survival. (Hayles 5, my emphasis)
So are we becoming cybernetic beings?
The short answer: Not yet.
The long answer: The posthuman is not necessarily a robot but a human being who perceives human consciousness as disembodied, without a body and with a consciousness that is potentially capable of moving from one bodied form to another. Cyborgs are a prevalent fixture in sci-fi literature, and the Borg in the Star Trek universe and their complete disregard for individual subjectivity is just example in popular culture of the path humans can take when interacting with information technologies. Hayles is attempting to assert the fact that our brains are tied to our bodies through much more than bits of data. Indeed, our bodies contain the evolutionary codes that have been passed down generation to generation; and to separate human consciousness from the very processes that gave birth to it in the first place would be detrimental to human subjectivity. In other words, we could no longer consider ourselves to be human, but something else entirely. Thankfully, we have not reached that point, yet.
Heroic Quest
The hero myth continues to resurface in our art, our literature, and in other aspects of popular culture. Psychologically speaking, it is a process of individuation, where an individual struggles, matures, and discovers his/her own place within society. Joseph L. Henderson describes the heroic myth, found in his chapter in Man and His Symbols, in the following way:
[Hero] myths vary enormously in detail, but the more closely one examines them the more one sees that structurally they are very similar… Over and over again one hears a tale describing a hero’s early proof of superhuman strength, his rise to prominence of power, his triumphant struggles with the forces of evil, his fallibility… his fall through betrayal or “heroic” sacrifice that ends in his death. (Henderson 101)
The heroic archetype as a cultural artifact works in a different way than an individual’s heroic psychological process because the hero usually acts as sacrificial figure, saving society from whatever evil is besetting it. Jesus is a powerful sacrificial figure in society, acting in the same way Henderson writes above. His sacrifice is believed to have saved the whole of society from sin, so each person can have a fresh start in leading a good and humble life. Instead of relieving the world of sin, the literary heroic figure can serve as the savior for the psychological well-being of an entire culture. Luke Sykwalker’s journey and struggles with a dictatorial government mirror our own struggles with the problems of our society. As Skywalker matures so do we… At least that’s the theory.
Only birth can conquer death--the birth, not of the old thing again, but of something new. Within the soul, within the body social, there must be--if we are to experience long survival--a continuous "recurrence of birth" ... to nullify the unremitting recurrences of death. (Campbell 11-6, my emphasis)
Trauma and Harry Potter
Now, how does all of this apply to Harry Potter? Well, trauma is the easiest to spot because it is so prevalent throughout the entire series. The whole series begins with a traumatic event: the death of Harry’s parents. Everything in the series revolves around this specific event, but there are plenty of other traumatic events as well.
Indeed, one traumatic event, which does not appear in the series itself, seriously affected everything that came after. J.K. Rowling’s mother passed away not long after Rowling began writing the series. She writes on her website, “[On] December 30th 1990, something happened that changed both my world and Harry’s forever: my mother died…” (
Official Site). After her mother died, Rowling’s own writing changed in regards to Harry’s feelings about his parents’ death. It became more real.
Plenty of time is devoted to the fact that Harry and Voldemort have so much in common. What is missing from the films is Voldemort’s complete backstory. In the films, Voldemort is not all that complicated, but the personification of pure evil. However, Rowling demonstrates that evil is not necessarily inherent in all beings, even one so horrible as Voldemort. Indeed, Voldemort’s mother, Merope Guant, suffered much in her own life, so much so that she drafted a love potion and administered it to the son of a wealthy muggle family: Tom Riddle Sr. They married, but not long after, she decided to stop giving Riddle Sr. the potion out a need to feel real love and not the manufactured infatuation of her magic. Needless, to say Riddle was shocked and left his wife, saying he’d been tricked, drugged, all despite the fact that she was very pregnant.
Devastated, Merope made her way to a London orphanage, delivered her baby, told the women there what the baby’s name was to be (Tom Marvolo Riddle), and subsequently died. Tom Riddle Jr. lived the first eleven years of his life in that orphanage, enjoying it as much as Harry enjoyed living with his aunt and uncle. He discovered his special abilities and used those abilities to control others. Once he discovered he was a wizard, through Albus Dumbledore, he knew his family must have been special, powerful. Needless to say he was disappointed to discover that his father was a Muggle and that his mother, poor and weak, had died rather than raise her son. A seething hatred began to grow within the young boy. How could a woman with magic powers die? There had to be a way to overcome the fate of all mortals: death.
Apocalypse and Harry Potter
In addition to Harry and Voldemort’s traumatic pasts, the whole of society has suffered as well, but for the wizarding community it would better termed an apocalyptic event. Hagrid, that wonderful character who sums up everything pretty well, tells Harry about the days before his parents were killed:
“Dark days, Harry. Didn’t know who ter trust, didn’t dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches… terrible things happened. He was takin’ over. ‘Course, some stood up to him—an’ he killed ‘em. Horribly. One o’ the only safe places left was Hogwarts.” (Sorcerer’s Stone 54-5)
The entire community is coming out of its own apocalyptic event when Harry discovers he’s a wizard. People still fear to speak Voldemort’s name, preferring instead He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who. After all, no one really understands what happened the night Voldemort disappeared and a one-year-old child survived the Killing Curse, a curse that had caused so much devastation. The society does not have the entire story; they do not know the whole narrative of what happened. Also, Voldemort’s body was never found as it had been blasted away, obliterated as the curse rebounded. Like a specter, an unholy spirit, his presence was still felt in the community. The community trauma had not been purged from the cultural consciousness. And so, Harry enters the story, a story already in progress, and finds that a second Wizard War is approaching, yet another apocalyptic event.
Dumbledore understands the necessity of knowing the whole story before acting. He was pleased with Harry when Harry asked Dumbledore what was to happen to Flamel and his wife now that the stone had been destroyed; “’You
did do the thing properly’” (
Sorcerer’s Stone 297). And when Dumbledore invites Harry to for lessons in his office, Dumbledore stresses the importance of knowing Voldemort’s story before attempting to attack him. Indeed, it is Harry’s knowledge of Voldemort’s personality that leads him to the horcruxes.
Knowing the whole story, or narrative, is one of the most important aspects to Rowling’s series. And while many readers probably found some of the explanations in the series a bit boring, they were very necessary. For only after knowing the full story is an individual and community able to truly begin the healing process.
Magic as Technology?
Arthur C. Clarke is famous for saying, “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” This part of the lecture is probably the most difficult to prove and also the most interesting to hear because of its implications.
The world of Harry Potter begins in early 90’s England; the Internet was in its infancy and more and more homes were getting desktop computers. Now, it seems at first that Harry and his friends leave this technological world for a seemingly pre-industrial world without computers, without television, and without electricity. However, this is merely window dressing. The wizarding community does not use magic in the traditional sense. They do not conjure spirits, speak to gods, or act as mediums between the spirit world and the real world. All of the magic performed in the Harry Potter series is actually much more mundane.
Take a look at the scene in
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, when Harry first sees exactly what a wizard family’s home is like. Mrs. Weasley has set some dishes to wash, needles are working some yarn, and a wonderful clock provides real-time information on the whereabouts of the Weasley family. Or take a look at another scene, this one from
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, when Harry walks into the Leaky Cauldron to meet with the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. A waiter is busing a table, making a bottle of wine disappear, and waving his hand to command the chairs to put themselves away; a customer is reading
A Brief History of Time and stirring his cup of tea without touching the spoon. All of these events can hardly be considered as grand as conjuring spirits.
Yes, it seems witches and wizards in Rowling’s universe use magic in much the same way as we use technology. (Note: If you’re wondering about television and film, don’t forget that the portraits and the pictures in newspapers and advertisements move just like the images on our television/film screens. Granted, most of the time they don’t tell a straight narrative, but some shows and films hardly deliver anything more interesting than what the pictures in Rowling’s universe deliver.)
Voldemort uses the technology of the wizarding community to achieve immortality, by breaking apart his consciousness and downloading that part into an object of some kind; “’Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno
if he had enough human left in him to die’” (
Sorcerer’s Stone 57, my emphasis). He’s basically using the “Save” button, saving bits of consciousness at various stages in his life! Now, when I hit the save button nobody dies (at least I hope not!), but a piece of my life, a piece of my writing is being saved for the unforeseeable future, unless I decide to delete the project. And now that Cloud software is becoming more and more available, I could save my work, those little pieces of my soul, and it would continue to exist (conceivably) for a very long time, possibly beyond my death.
Professor Slughorn describes the process of creating horcruxes to young Tom Riddle Jr. in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince:
“Well, you split your soul, you see,’ said Slughorn, “and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if your body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged.” (Half-Blood Prince 497)
He goes on to tell Riddle Jr. that in order to create a horcrux a person must commit an act of murder, “’an act of violation, it is against nature’” (
Half-Blood Prince 498). Dumbledore even mentions that Voldemort had performed such dark magic that he had transformed his body to the point that it was hardly recognizable as being human in form. Rowling describes Voldemort as being a hybrid of snake and man.
Voldemort is looking more and more like Locutus.
Harry’s Sacrifice
The heroic sacrifice discussed above happens when Harry discovers he has the power to destroy Voldemort, but Harry will have to die to accomplish Voldemort’s destruction: “’And while [a fragment of Voldemort’s soul]… attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die’” (
Hallows 686). In order to save the wizarding community, Harry must sacrifice himself. This is the point where Harry solidly demonstrates his difference from Voldemort. Having experienced so much death in his life, Harry is under no illusion; he is aware that he is fated to die; Harry harbors no illusion of immortality. And if his death will save others so they can live fuller lives, Harry is willing to lay down his life.
Harry and Voldemort represent a clear delineation of how Rowling perceives and defines humanity: acceptance of death and the fact that our bodies are intrinsically linked to our consciousness, our soul. She does present the possibility of an afterlife, but it is the next journey of our consciousness/soul. We are not meant to exist on this plane of existence after our bodies have expired. As technology and our information systems take over more of our lives, we are faced with how to define what it means to be human. Rowling presents a posthuman epic of how we can incorporate technology into our lives without sacrificing the basic realities of being human.
Works Cited
Berger, James. After the End: Representations of Post-Apocalypse. Minneapolis: Minnesota UP, 1999. Print.
Campbell, Joseph. The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1949. Print.
Hayles, N. Kathernine. How We Became Posthuman: Virtual Bodies in Cybernetics, Literature, and Informatics. Chicago: Chicago UP, 1999. Print.
Henderson, Joseph L. "Ancient Myths and Modern Man." Man and His Symbols. Ed. Carl G. Jung. London: Aldus Books, 1964. Print.
J.K. Rowling Official Site: Harry Potter and More. 2006. Lightmaker. 16 March 2009. Web.
Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. New York: Scholastic, 2007. Print.
---. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. New York: Scholastic, 2007. Print.
---. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. New York: Scholastic, 1997. Print.
