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| Harry
Potter and the Baptism of the Imagination |
| A Guest Essay by
Carrie Birmingham |
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Replete
with Christian symbols, patterns,
and allegories, the Harry Potter
series baptizes (immerses, if
you will) the reader’s imagination
into the essence of the Christian
story. Just under the surface
of the narrative, the heart of
our redemption—victorious
resurrection through the sacrifice
of love—is experienced time
and time again. For millions of
readers, the Harry Potter series
is a compelling introduction to
Christianity. |
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| Since
its first publication in 1997,
books in the Harry Potter series
have been linked to spiritual
concerns. Claims regarding the
series’ spiritual significance
range from the visceral to the
ethereal and are almost as well
known as Harry himself. In the
U.S. especially, some Christians
have decried the series as a dangerous
promotion of the occult and moral
relativism, a subversion of authority,
and just plain frightening. Others
have taken the opposite view,
defending the Harry Potter series
as not only compatible with Christian
spirituality but actually evangelistic
in effect. In between these extremes
are writers who plead for peace
and cautious acceptance of the
good that Harry Potter offers.
The preponderance of these commentaries
coupled with the series’
unprecedented international popularity
leads one to believe that Harry
Potter and his creator, J.K. Rowling,
are indeed having an effect on
children’s (and adults’)
spirituality. |
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| Besides
the religious responses, Harry
Potter has inspired a growing
and diverse body of non-religious
commentary.1
Social critics examine the class
structures of Hogwarts and the
world of the Muggles from Marxist
and feminist perspectives, constructing
Harry Potter as an artifact of
hegemonic historical and cultural
influences. Psychological theorists
identify Jungian archetypes and
Freudian images. Literary critics
explore the books for evidence
of generic patterns, including
myth, fairy tale, mystery, fantasy,
bildungsroman,
and the English boarding school
novel. Critical critics argue
that the popularity of Harry Potter
is an indication not of its quality
(which they denigrate) but of
its marketing power and appeal
to the lowest common denominator
of popular culture. |
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| Beyond
the world of academia, however,
and in the world of the Christian
church, the predominant question
about Harry Potter concerns the
books’ spiritual value.
As one who believes that the series
“prepares the young for
their later conscious life in
the Church and steels those already
Christian in their faith,”2
I will demonstrate how the Harry
Potter books promote Christian
thinking, or, to paraphrase C.S.
Lewis, baptize the imagination.
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| Harry
Potter and the Christian Critics
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| Although
J.K. Rowling is a member of the
Church of Scotland, she has made
few comments on her personal religious
beliefs and commitments. Nevertheless,
the comments she has made are
intriguing. In 2000, she was asked,
“Are you a religious person?
Does your spirituality come from
a certain place?” She replied,
“I do believe in God. That
seems to offend the South Carolinians
[a particular group of Christians
who spoke out against Rowling’s
books] more than almost anything
else….They have more of
a problem with me believing in
God than they would have if I
was an unrepentant atheist.”
When the interviewer asked her
to pin down her spiritual views
a little more concretely, he asked,
“Are you a churchgoer?”
She replied, “Mmm hmm (nods).
Well I go more than to weddings
and christenings. Yes, I do.”
When asked if she believes in
magic as well, she answered in
typical cryptic Rowling fashion,
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Magic
in the sense in which it happens
in my books, no, I don't believe.
I don't believe in that. No. No.
This is so frustrating. Again,
there is so much I would like
to say, and come back when I've
written book seven. But then maybe
you won't need to even say it
'cause you'll have found it out
anyway. You'll have read it.3 |
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| In
another interview, Rowling was
asked if she is a Christian, and
she replied with a definite, “Yes,
I am.” She continued, |
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Every time
I've been asked if I believe in
God, I've said yes, because I
do, but no one ever really has
gone any more deeply into it than
that, and I have to say that does
suit me, because if I talk too
freely about that I think the
intelligent reader, whether 10
or 60, will be able to guess what's
coming in the books.4
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| Rowling
implies rather strongly that there
is something impending in the
series that will give away her
faith, and vice versa, that her
faith could give away the well
kept secrets of the yet unpublished
Harry Potter books.5
Taken at face value, these interviews
would seem to support the premise
the Rowling might yet reveal herself
as a Christian writer. |
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| Without
the well-established Christian
pedigrees of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R.
Tolkien, who also wrote fantasies
filled with magic, Rowling’s
spiritual authority and motivations
are subject to suspicion. For
instance, Sennett (2004) declares,
“Rowling is not a Christian,
not a serious one, anyway.”6
Richard Abanes (2001) warns that
“unbiblical spiritual involvement”7
pervades the Harry Potter books.
He also notes that Harry frequently
lies and breaks school rules and
recommends Percy Weasley as a
better role model than Harry.
(This, of course, was written
before Percy’s apparent
renouncement of his family in
Harry Potter and the Order
of the Phoenix.) Similarly,
John Andrew Murray (2000) of Focus
on the Family advises that the
Harry Potter books are “terrifying
to young children” and that
they portray “occult practices
as ‘good’ and ‘healthy,’
contrary to the scriptural declaration
that such practices are ‘detestable
to the Lord.’”8 |
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| In
her analysis of the Christian
criticism of Harry Potter, Stephens
offers that the reason why the
books have been rejected by so
many Christians is not the magic,
for other books that employ magic—specifically
the Narnia books by C.S. Lewis
and the Lord of the Rings trilogy
by J.R.R. Tolkien—are accepted
and even admired by many of the
same writers. Rather, the objection
is caused by the apparent absence
of authority in Harry’s
world. There is no obvious God
or Christ, such as the Emperor
Over the Sea or Aslan in Narnia.
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore bears
similarities to the Christian
God; at the least he is a powerful
and trustworthy authority figure,
but he also appears to be fallible
and limited. Nor does Harry enjoy
any parental authority, only horrible
foster parents who are not worthy
of respect. He is counseled and
aided by well-meaning adults,
but they are kept at a distance
by various circumstances. Even
Hogwarts, which Harry considers
to be his home, provides little
supervision and liberal freedom
for its young students. Because
conservative Christian institutions
tend to emphasize the value of
authority—divine, parental,
and institutional—Harry’s
world appears to be morally unsound.9 |
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| We
have no explicit evidence that
the Harry Potter books are designed
to promote the occult, wanton
disobedience, or the subversion
of authority. Rather, these objections
are based on interpretations of
Harry Potter. They are valid only
if the interpretations are sound.
I will present a brief explanation,
then, of three ways in which the
Christian critics’ interpretations
are amiss. |
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| The
first and perhaps most significant
mistake has to do with understanding
Harry Potter’s literary
form. The books contain elements
of many genres—adventure,
mystery, myth, fantasy, and, as
C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien
use the term, fairy tale. The
most prominent fairy tale element
in Harry Potter is, of course,
the use of magic. The setting,
the characters, and the plot are
all distinguished by their involvement
with magic, the use of which serves
a literary purpose. The point
of magic in Harry Potter is not
to promote interest in the occult,
as some Christian critics would
claim. Instead, magic serves to
set apart the Harry Potter stories
from stories of the real world,
just as it did for Lewis in The
Chronicles of Narnia and
Tolkien in The Lord
of the Rings Trilogy. When
Lucy Pevensie walks through the
wardrobe into the snowy woods
of Narnia, we predict that magical
things will be happening to her.
When Bilbo Baggins disappears
in front of his birthday party
guests, we anticipate magical
adventures. When dozens of emerald
green envelopes—addressed
to “Mr. H. Potter, The Cupboard
under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive,
Little Whinging, Surrey”—force
their way into the Dursley’s
front hallway, we expect that
the story will be a magical fairy
tale. Even young readers know
not to take these things literally. |
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| J.K.
Rowling has not publicly divulged
her thoughts on the interpretation
of her books, choosing, one would
assume, to let the stories speak
for themselves for now. With the
passing of time, however, Lewis
and Tolkien provided commentaries
that explain their choice of the
fairy story. Lewis writes in “Sometimes
Fairy Stories May Say Best What’s
to be Said” that his first
thoughts of Narnia came to him
in images: |
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a
faun carrying an umbrella, a queen
on a sledge, a magnificent lion….As
these images sorted themselves
into events (i.e., became a story)
they seemed to demand no love
interest and no close psychology.
But the Form which excludes these
things is the fairy tale.10 |
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| For
Lewis the fairy tale simply fit
the bill for the story he wanted
to tell. Upon reflection, however,
Lewis realized that a fairy tale
may be the best way to convey
important Christian truths, precisely
because traditional Christian
“stained glass and Sunday-school”
trappings are absent in fairy
tales.11
Tolkien wrote that the creation
of a fantasy world is a “sub-creation”
that echoes God’s creation
of the world. If a fantasy is
created well, the essential truths
of God’s creation and redemption
can be seen as “a far-off
gleam or echo of evangelium
in the real world.”12
For Lewis and Tolkien, fantasy
is a form which provides a literary
experience of the essence of God’s
work in the real world, including
his creation, redemption, and
sanctification of humankind. |
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| Deep
down we know that Narnia and Middle
Earth are not real places, alternative
realities, or parallel universes,
even as we reach through the coats
in an old wardrobe half-hoping
to find the snowy woods of Narnia
or test the barrier between Platforms
Nine and Ten at King’s Cross
Station in London half-hoping
to reach Platform Nine and Three
Quarters. Why do we test the borders
between the real and the imaginary?
It is because these fantasies
compel us to enter an imaginary
world in which we can identify
with heroes who are clearly involved
in the battle against evil, where
love and forgiveness prevail in
the end, where right choices and
right actions are recognized as
right, and where God’s redemptive
plan is just under the surface.
Tolkien recalls of his childhood,
“Fairy-stories were plainly
not primarily concerned with possibility,
but with desirability.”13
He asks, “Why should a man
be scorned, if, finding himself
in prison, he tries to get out
and go home? Or if, when he cannot
do so, he thinks and talks about
other topics than jailers and
prison-walls?”14
For
readers who are bound to the real
fallen world of sin and suffering,
fantasy offers an escape to a
world in which things are set
right. Our longing is not to step
literally into Narnia, Middle
Earth, or Hogwarts, but to experience
a world in which injustices are
set right, difficult questions
are answered, and we are redeemed
in the end. In short, we are looking
for the happy ending that has
not yet been attained in our real
lives. |
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Understanding
Harry Potter as a fairy tale
in the same tradition as Chronicles
of Narnia and Lord
of the Rings, we no longer
expect literal correspondence
between Harry’s world
(created by J.K. Rowling) and
our world (created by God).
The magic in Harry Potter is
fairy tale magic, not contemporary
occult or Wiccan practice. Other
elements of the books are released
from the bond of reality as
well. Albus Dumbledore, for
instance, reminds us of the
Christian God, from his uncanny
knowledge of things Harry thought
were secrets, to his status
as the greatest wizard who ever
lived, and his role as Harry’s
savior in the climax of each
book. Even Dumbledore’s
physical description as an old
man with a long white beard
is typical of visual depictions
of God in Renaissance paintings.
Dumbledore, however, does not
appear to be all-knowing
and all-powerful; neither
is he expected to be immortal,
although he is unnaturally old.
Dumbledore’s human frailties
do not suggest, however, that
our real God is being characterized
as limited and fallible. On
the other side of the magical
spectrum, the Dursleys, Harry’s
non-magical foster family, are
horrible and cruel. This characterization
should not be taken to indicate
that real non-magical people
(you and I) are in any way inferior
to “real” magical
people. Harry Potter is a fantasy,
so the details of that fantasy
world are not intended to reflect
the details of the real world.
It is the essence of the Harry
Potter fantasy that reflects
the real world, in particular
God’s redemptive work—the
human struggle, suffering, and
confusion giving way to forgiveness,
understanding, and joy through
the sacrifice of love. |
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| The
second interpretive mistake is
to confuse the is of Harry and
his world with the ought
of his world and ours. It is true
that Harry is not a model compliant
child. In Harry Potter and
the Chamber of Secrets, Harry
saves his friend Ginny Weasley
from certain death, yet Professor
McGonagall feels compelled to
comment that his efforts involved
“breaking a hundred school
rules into pieces, by the way,”15
and Dumbledore noted, his mustache
quivering (presumably in a smile),
that Harry has “a certain
disregard for rules” (p.
333). Harry, for the most part
though, makes the right choices
in the end, that is, until Harry
Potter and the Order of the Phoenix,
where we sadly see Harry at his
lowest. Self absorbed and resentful,
Harry rejects the instructions
of Dumbledore and other trustworthy
adults and peers, stubbornly refusing
to study and practice Occlumency,
the protection of one’s
mind from external penetration.16
The consequences of his choice
are tragic. Harry is not an idol
but a sinner. We identify with
Harry, in part because the books
are written from Harry’s
perspective, but mostly because
we, like Harry, are sinners. In
telling a lie, breaking a school
rule, or making a gravely poor
choice, Harry tells the truth
about us. |
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| The
third interpretive mistake is
to rush to judgment. After all,
two more books are promised. Although
each book can stand alone, the
overall plot of the series gradually
unfolds with each volume. Rowling
plants subtle clues in earlier
books about events that take place
in later books, posing mysteries
that remain unsolved until a later
installment and surprising readers
with unexpected turns of plot,
revelations of true identities,
and hidden motivations.17
For instance, after reading the
third book in the series, Harry
Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,
readers question Dumbledore’s
judgment in hiring Sybill Trelawney
as professor of divination. Almost
all the students think she is
an “old fraud.” Hermione
Granger, the best student in the
year, dramatically walks out of
class in disgust and drops the
course altogether.18
Trelawney’s incompetence
appears to be a poor reflection
on Dumbledore’s wisdom.
However, by the end of the fifth
book, we find that Professor Trelawney
plays a crucial role in the fight
against evil, as it was she who
prophesied the birth of the one
boy who could grow up to defeat
Voldemort. This prophecy at least
partially answers one of the greatest
mysteries of the series: why Lord
Voldemort, the most evil of all
wizards and the ultimate villain
of the series, targeted Harry
for death when he was just a baby.
It also clears up the question
of Dumbledore’s hiring practices.
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| Furthermore,
the books are written from Harry’s
perspective. The reader knows
something only if Harry knows
it. As a growing adolescent, Harry
becomes more aware of his world
each year, and it is safe to say
that important knowledge is still
unknown to Harry and to us at
the end of the fifth book. Many
questions about good, evil, power,
death, and choice have been posed,
but the answers remain to be seen.
It would be premature to assume
the answers and denounce the books
on the basis of these assumptions. |
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| Harry
Potter as Christian Literature |
| It
may be equally premature to embrace
the series at this point. Yet
the five books so far are replete
with a preponderance of symbols,
clues, and patterns that distinguish
Harry Potter as a Christian symbolist
work. This claim implies that
Rowling has intentionally created
Christian literature, although
no proof exists for this inference.
As stated earlier, Rowling has
made no straightforward, irrefutable
statement that she is purposefully
writing Christian literature,
as Lewis and Tolkien eventually
did. In making the case for the
Christian value of Harry Potter,
this article will rely not on
the author’s exegesis of
her work but on the patterns and
themes that are evident in the
works themselves. If it is true
that one can know the tree by
the fruit it bears, perhaps it
is also true that one can know
something about the author by
the books she writes. |
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| On
the first reading, the books appear
to be all about the adventures
of young witches and wizards.
However, J.K. Rowling has said
that she writes books “that
the reader won’t necessarily
get completely on the first reading.”19
What, then, is under the surface?
John Granger has identified a
host of traditional Christian
symbols, allusions, and allegorical
elements in the books. Christ
symbols, in particular, abound:
Dumbledore’s pet phoenix,
the red lion on the crest of Gryffindor
(Harry’s school house),
the unicorns and the centaurs
in the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid’s
pet hippogriff, the stag (the
magical animal form of Harry’s
father), and the philosopher’s
stone, which grants eternal life
and wealth.20 |
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| At
the end of each volume, the reader
lives through a vicarious death
and resurrection experience with
Harry, who is a symbol of the
Christian-Everyman. For instance,
at the climax of Harry Potter
and the Sorcerer’s
Stone, Harry boldly prevents Voldemort
from acquiring the philosopher’s
stone but is knocked unconscious
in the fight. He awakens in the
school’s hospital wing three
days later in the presence of
Dumbledore.21 |
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| The
most compelling resurrection allegory
takes place at the end of Harry
Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.
The younger sister of Harry’s
best friend has been taken by
a basilisk, a giant serpent, and
a message written in blood appears
on the wall: “Her skeleton
will lie in the chamber forever!”
(p. 293). Harry descends into
the Chamber of Secrets and finds
Ginny, but she is unconscious
and will not wake. The young Lord
Voldemort magically appears to
Harry and explains that he has
possessed Ginny through a magical
diary and forced her to release
the basilisk on the school, nearly
killing several students. He is
now growing stronger as Ginny
weakens, feeding on her life.
Harry declares that Dumbledore,
not Voldemort, is the greatest
wizard who ever lived, and immediately
Harry hears unearthly music. |
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| At
that moment, Dumbledore’s
pet phoenix appears from flames,
singing and bearing the school’s
Sorting Hat (an ancient hat that
belonged to Godric Gryffindor,
one of the school’s founders).
The phoenix lands protectively
on Harry’s shoulder. Voldemort
calls out the basilisk and commands
it to kill Harry. The phoenix
defends Harry, pecking out the
eyes of the basilisk and depriving
it of its fatal stare. Harry puts
on the Sorting Hat in desperation
and pleads “Help me, help
me,…someone—anyone”
(p. 319), and the sword of Gryffindor
falls out of the hat onto his
head. The basilisk sinks its venomous
fang into Harry’s arm, but
Harry slays the beast with the
sword. As Harry lies dying and
Voldemort gloats his victory,
the phoenix comes near to Harry,
crying. Its tears fall on Harry’s
wound, and he is healed. Harry
then defeats Voldemort by plunging
the basilisk’s fang into
the magical diary. Ginny awakens,
and the two of them ascend out
of the chamber, hanging on to
the tail feathers of the phoenix.
Ginny is returned to her family,
and Harry to Dumbledore, who declares
“I think all this merits
a good feast” (p. 330). |
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| Granger
(2002) translates the allegory
in the above story as follows
(interpolations mine): |
| |
Man
[Harry], alone and afraid in the
World, loses his innocence [Ginny,
symbolizing virgin purity]. He
tries to regain it but is prevented
by Satan [Voldemort], who feeds
on his fallen, lost innocence.
Man confesses and calls on God
the Father [Dumbledore] while
facing Satan, and is graced immediately
by the Holy Spirit [the phoenix
song] and the protective presence
of Christ [the phoenix]. |
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| Satan
confronts man with the greatness
of his sins [the basilisk], but
Christ battles on Man’s
side for Man’s salvation
from his sins [the phoenix pecking
out the eyes of the basilisk].
God sends Man the Sword of the
Spirit [the sword of Gryffindor]
which he uses to slay his Christ-weakened
enemy. His sins are absolved [the
basilisk dead], but the weight
of them still mean Man’s
death [Harry dying from the basilisk’s
venomous fang]. Satan rejoices.
But, behold, the voluntary suffering
of Christ heals Man [the phoenix
tears healing Harry’s wound]!
Man rises from the dead, and,
with Christ’s help, Man
destroys Satan [Harry plunging
the fang into the diary]. Man’s
innocence is restored [Ginny wakes],
and he leaves the World [the chamber]
for heaven [Hogwarts above ground]
by means of the Ascension of Christ
[hanging on to the tail feathers
of the phoenix]. Man, risen with
Christ, lives with God the Father
in joyful thanksgiving [the feast].22
|
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| Granger
concludes that “using only
traditional symbols, . . . the
drama takes us from the fall to
eternal life without a hitch.”23 |
|
| Once
again, the identification of these
literary events and elements as
Christian symbols is based on
reason, not on J.K. Rowling’s
explicit exegesis. There is no
proof that Rowling is deliberately
writing Christian literature,
but the pervasive pattern of Christian
symbolism is strong enough to
support the claim that Harry Potter
is Christian symbolist literature. |
|
| Harry
Potter and the Baptism of the
Imagination |
| Replete
with Christian symbols, patterns,
and allegories, the Harry Potter
series is a powerful introduction
to essential Christian truths.
Most readers do not consciously
understand it as such, however,
considering the responses of the
Christian critics. Rather, the
essence of Christian truth—victorious
resurrection through the sacrifice
of love—is experienced time
and time again in reading Harry
Potter. These experiences, with
or without conscious understanding,
are what baptize the imagination.
|
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| As
a young man, C.S. Lewis had such
an experience upon reading George
MacDonald’s Phantastes.
He coined the phase “baptism
of the imagination” to describe
what had happened: |
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It
must be more than thirty years
ago that I bought—almost
unwillingly, for I had looked
at the volume on that bookstall
and rejected it on a dozen previous
occasions—the Everyman edition
of Phantastes. A few
hours later I knew that I had
crossed a great frontier. I had
already been waist-deep in Romanticism;
and likely enough, at any moment,
to flounder into its darker and
more evil forms, slithering down
the steep descent that leads from
the love of strangeness to that
of eccentricity and thence to
that of perversity. Now Phantastes
was romantic enough in all conscience;
but there was a difference. Nothing
was at that time further from
my thoughts than Christianity
and I therefore had no notion
of what this difference really
was…. What it actually did
to me was to convert, even to
baptize…my imagination.
It did nothing to my intellect
nor (at that time) to my conscience.
. . . The quality which had enchanted
me in his imaginative works turned
out to be the quality of the real
universe, the divine, magical,
terrifying, and ecstatic reality
in which we all live. I should
have been shocked in my teens
if anyone had told me that what
I learned to love in Phantastes
was goodness.24 |
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| The
phrase baptism of the imagination
has since been applied to the
effects of Lewis’s own fantasy
works as well as to the fantasies
of J.R.R. Tolkien and the other
Inklings25.
As we read of the sacrifice of
Aslan to save Edmund from the
White Witch and Aslan’s
subsequent resurrection, we share
in Susan and Lucy’s mourning
at Aslan’s death and rejoicing
at his rising. In this imaginative
experience, our imaginations are
introduced to the foundational
Christian doctrine of Christ’s
death and resurrection for salvation. |
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| |
As
Tolkien explains, fairy stories
contain many marvels—peculiarly
artistic, beautiful, and moving:
‘mythical’ in their
perfect, self-contained significance;
and at the same time powerfully
symbolic and allegorical; and
among the marvels is the greatest
and most complete conceivable
eucatastrophe. The Birth
of Christ is the eucatastrophe
of Man’s history. The Resurrection
is the eucatastrophe
of the Incarnation.26 |
|
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| This
mythical power of fantasy, at
best, is “a real though
unfocussed gleam of divine truth
falling on human imagination.”27
In Tolkien’s Return of the
King, as Aragorn marches up to
the Gates of Mordor with his small
and weakened army, Sauron gloats
his imminent victory. Yet at that
moment, the One Ring is returned
to Mount Doom, and Sauron’s
power is destroyed. Along with
all Middle Earth, we celebrate
Sauron’s final defeat. The
essence of this fantasy eucatastrophe—the
victory of good over evil through
suffering—is the same in
essence as the true eucatastrophe—the
victory of Christ over Satan through
Christ’s voluntary suffering.
In reading these fantasies, our
imaginations are baptized into
the essence of Christian beliefs. |
| |
| Another
way to describe this unconscious
initiation into Christian truths
is through the metaphor of alchemy,
an often used structure in English
literature. Granger has uncovered
many alchemical patterns in Harry
Potter. He explains that the medieval
practice of alchemy was much more
than it is commonly understood
to be—turning lead into
gold, creating the philosopher’s
stone, and securing immortality
through the elixir of life. Rather,
the essence of alchemy was the
transformation of the alchemist’s
sinful soul into a pure soul.
As the Christian sacraments are
channels for God’s grace,
so is the process of alchemy “for
the purification and perfection
of the alchemist’s soul
in correspondence with the metallurgical
perfection of a base metal into
gold.”28
Hidden in Harry Potter is a well-developed
system of alchemical symbols and
patterns that connect the story
elements both to each other and
to the greater essence of Christian
spiritual truths.29
|
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| Briefly
put, each of the Harry Potter
books is an alchemical purification
of Harry’s soul. This purification
begins with the black stage of
dissolution, which happens to
Harry every miserable summer at
the Dursley’s and in the
dark dungeons of the potions master,
Severus Snape. Second is the white
stage of purification, accomplished
through Albus (Latin for white)
Dumbledore and various other “white”
characters such as Harry’s
mother Lily, Professor Remus Lupin
(prematurely gray, moon connotations),
and Harry’s new friend in
the fifth book, Luna Lovegood
(blonde, also moon connotations),
as well as the shiny white patronus
spell which protects against the
dark dementors, the ghostly prison
guards that “glory in decay
and despair, they drain peace,
hope, and happiness out of the
air around them” (Harry
Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,
p.187). The third stage is the
red stage, where the spirit and
body are united in resurrection.
This happens to Harry at the end
of each book in the alchemical
crucible of a climactic battle
against evil, “in which
Harry always dies a figurative
death and is saved by love in
the presence of a Christological
symbol,” such as the climax
of Harry Potter and the Chamber
of Secrets, summarized earlier.30 |
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| This
pattern is becoming evident in
the series as a whole as well.
Harry Potter and the Order
of the Phoenix is a difficult
book for many to read, not because
of its length, but because of
the changes in Harry’s character.
No longer a pleasant and hopeful
child, Harry becomes a sullen
and angry adolescent. Granger
explains that this book represents
the black stage, beginning with
the darkness of dementors invading
Little Whinging, Harry’s
muggle neighborhood, and the escape
to the House of Black, and ending
in the death of Harry’s
godfather, Sirius Black.31
|
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| In
between these events, Harry’s
concept of himself is dissolved.
No longer is he the Quidditch
star (Harry is banned from playing
Quidditch, the most popular wizard
sport, for life.), superior to
his friends (Ron and Hermione
are chosen as prefects over Harry,
and Ron wins the Quidditch cup
for Gryffindor.), his father’s
admiring son (Harry discovers
that his father was an arrogant
bully as a Hogwarts student.),
Dumbledore’s favorite (Dumbledore
avoids Harry throughout the school
year.), or hero (Harry’s
attempt to save his godfather
results in tragedy.). Harry is
not even in control of his own
mind, troubled by irrepressible
dreams and visions that he finally
realizes are not his own but invasions
of Voldemort’s desires and
emotions. Only at the end of the
book, when the prophecy regarding
Harry and Voldemort is revealed,
does Harry understand his essential
identity: the only person (except
Harry’s classmate Neville
Longbottom, perhaps) who can possibly
defeat Voldemort. |
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| Granger
predicts that the sixth book will
represent the white stage, involving
Dumbledore as a purifying agent,
and the last book will represent
the red stage, possibly revolving
around the Hogwarts gamekeeper,
Rubeus (red) Hagrid, who also
began Harry’s story by rescuing
him from the rubble of his home
when Harry was a baby. |
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| The
literary power of alchemy complements
what Lewis experienced in reading
Phantastes. As that was a baptism
of the imagination, literary alchemy
is the dissolution, purification,
and resurrection of the imagination.
We identify with Harry as he suffers
through the black stages, is purified
in the white stages, and is resurrected
in the red stages, and we vicariously
experience the same transformations.
|
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| The
transforming power of literature
is familiar to those who already
think in literary terms. However,
to those who tend to think of
personal transformation in terms
of psychological or developmental
concepts, these images may prove
more confounding than enlightening.
In this case, the work of Greenspan
(1998) may be of help. From his
extensive work with developmentally
disabled children, he has argued
that the roots of intelligence
lie not in language or reasoning,
but in emotional experience. For
instance, the newborn develops
a concept of mother from emotional
interactions with her mother.
The toddler learns the comparative
concepts more and less from emotionally
laden experiences such as getting
more cookies when he asks for
them or getting less ice cream
than he wants. |
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| Adults
generalize knowledge from one
situation to another by reflecting
on the emotionally experienced
events in the past. For example,
reflection on mistakes and successes
in my previous teaching experience
informs my planning for my next
class. Even abstract thinking
is based on the combination of
“lived emotional experiences
and reflection on that experience.”32
(Incidentally, knowledge learned
by rote or in decontextualized
emotionally stripped settings
tends to be the knowledge that
one most quickly forgets.) |
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| As
fictional characters, Harry and
his friends live through more
emotionally charged experiences
than most of us would ever wish
for. By sharing these symbolically
significant adventures, we are
introduced to the essence of Christian
truth as lived emotional experience.
We know what it feels like to
be saved from certain death by
someone more powerful than ourselves.
We know what it feels like to
offer ourselves as a living sacrifice
for our friends. We know what
it feels like to love and be loved.
These literary emotional experiences,
symbolic of life in Christ, baptize
not only the imagination, but
the emotions as well, providing
material for reflection and laying
a foundation for later conscious
consideration of explicit Christian
truth. |
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| One
may wonder why books that are
heavily Christian symbolist novels
would enjoy unprecedented sales
literally around the world. The
theological answer is that humans,
created in the image of God, were
created to yearn for the truths
of God. As Augustine wrote, “You
made us for yourself and our hearts
find no peace until they rest
in you.”33 |
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| Surprisingly,
the field of cognitive psychology
may provide a model for how this
yearning may work. Jerry Fodor,
a philosopher and psycholinguist,
proposed that the human mind is
best thought of as divided into
two parts: perception and cognition.34
Perceptual modalities operate
quickly and automatically. If
my eyes are open and working correctly,
and a dog runs in front of me
in the daytime, I cannot help
but see it. Furthermore, perceptual
modalities seek input; we are
compelled to look, listen, and
touch. Along with these sense
perceptions, Fodor included language
in the perceptual category, which
serves to explain how quickly
and effortlessly humans acquire
very complicated language skills.
|
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| Cognition,
on the other hand, is slow, reflective,
integrated, and creative. To use
Fodor’s model, spirituality
can be conceived of as a perceptive
modality that seeks input from
the environment. That would explain
why cultures around the world
and throughout time develop spiritual
beliefs just as commonly as they
develop language. It would also
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