Yesterday, Halloween, we had the delight of wandering around downtown Ithaca, turned for a day into Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, Knockturn Alley, a Quidditch pitch, a world of magical creatures, and more beside. Thousands of Halloween revelers gathered for a very fun day. It was the brainchild of a local shop keeper who suggested the idea, and it took off in a big way. We spent some time looking at an amazing group of owls, courtesy of the Cornell University Raptor program. Lots of people dressed in costumes taken from the Potter saga. A good time was had by all, including Jane and I. My thoughts have been varied this last few days—thinking of a new year that begins with a remembrance of death, a drawing in, a hope of joining those we love who have gone before us into the unknown. I have thought of the power of stories to give meaning, not least the Harry Potter saga. I have thought, too, of the swiftness of time passing, the cycles, the repetitiveness of it all.
Halloween, with its focus on death, on ghouls, on the macabre, perhaps ought to be a time of fearfulness. Certainly, the popularizing of Halloween in scary movies leads that way. Perhaps strangely, I find this season of the year rather a time of warmth, of comfort and of hope—in a way, of that which always is and will be.
We have no access into the reality of life beyond life. So we tell stories. The stories speak to us. We bind the stories into the fabric of our lives by integrating them into the daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly round. We carry the stories within us. We are carried by the stories. The stories help us through change.
After our day downtown—which included a delicious lunch at one of our favorite Indian restaurants, in a window seat watching the wizards and witches walk by—we decided to watch Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I love the Potter saga, especially the books, but the movie are fun, even if given the Hollywood treatment that misses the subtlety and depth of the text. The movies have more violence than the books, and movie special effects lend themselves to the spectacular. As I read the Potter story, I read it more about love and love's ways than about violent resolution of conflict. To be sure there is a deep and lasting struggle in the story, and bad things happen to good people, sometimes impossibly bad things. Yet the heart of the story is love.
Harry has a deep, heart-aching, longing love for his parents, who he never knew. He knows the love of friendship with Ron and Hermione. He has deep affection for Dumbledore, Sirius, and even Neville Longbottom. Then there is Harry's romantic love for Cho Chang and later Ginny Weasley. Harry's loves are mirrored in others thoughout the story. Compassion and altruism abound.
But this is Halloween and All Saints Day. What of love that survives death?
Toward the end of the Order of the Phoenix, the evil Lord Voldemort is at the point of victory. He has possessed Harry's body and is destroying his soul. Harry is in torment. The myth of redemptive violence would have some last act of courageous, righteous violence to finish off the evil, for surely violence always triumphs. But not in Harry Potter—and not in our most precious stories.
In his agony Harry thinks of his impending death. As he thinks of death he thinks of his god-father Sirius who has recently died. He thinks of their reuniting. Harry is filled with loving emotion. And Lord Voldemort leaves him. Evil cannot remain with love. In the movie Harry says to Voldemort, "You will never have any friends, and I feel sorry for you." The line is not in the book, but is a way of trying to express what is deep in Harry's psyche. Here is love. Here is compassion, even for his enemy.
Love crosses the canyon from life to death, from death to life. Earlier in the scene in the Order of the Phoenix, Professor Dumbledore says to Voldemort, "Your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness ..." What would be worse than death? A life lived without love. Voldemort seeks immortality through hatred, violence, utter selfishness. Harry is willing to die for love's sake. Harry discovers that should he die he will reunited with those he has loved, and who have loved him. As the ancient sage told us, "Love is stronger than death ... many waters cannot quench love."
Happy Samhain! Enjoy the season!
+Ab. Andy
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