You put your finger on a number of things that feel really odd about the ending. It almost makes you wonder, what book has JKR been reading? Dumbledore offers Harry a lecture on choice, but the book hasn’t really been about choice, it’s been about the temptations of various kinds of chaos and disorder, and Harry has hardly been immune to that. He rewards Harry for loyalty and reassures him that he’s nothing like Tom, but the comparison between Harry and Tom feels strained, and Harry’s loyalty has never been an issue. He shows real awareness of what Ginny has been through, but offers her a shockingly empty consolation.
I confess, though, that I am generally a Dumbledore fan, and I’d like to try to defend him if I can. I agree that he can be manipulative, but I don’t think he’s evil. One of the difficulties of reading Dumbledore, I think, is that a part of us very much wants to see him as the all-knowing, all-powerful projection of Harry’s childish imagination, and when he doesn’t live up to that, and of course he can never live up to that, a sort of adolescent disappointment and cynicism take over, and we yell for his head.
Dumbledore’s real mission, I think, is to prepare those who can handle it for an effective life in a morally chaotic world. His chief lesson is that there are no formulas or guarantees, no immunity from risk or suffering, no substitute for good judgment and a resilient character. To advance this lesson, he doesn’t bother much with grand, consistent lectures, but probes and hints and makes suggestions and reinforces behavior that he thinks will serve his individual students well. And he ruthlessly suppresses self-pity and second-thoughts. To see the relevance of his method, I think you have to look very closely at individual cases, at the psychological dynamics of individual characters, perhaps even more than at Dumbledore’s actual words.
I don’t agree, for example, that his praise for Harry’s choice of Gryffindor over Slytherin represents a prejudice against Slytherin. I think it has nothing to do with the houses, and everything to do with the particulars of Harry’s case. Look at what the Hat actually says to him – for Harry, Slytherin is an opportunity for greatness, for power, perhaps retributive power over a world that has injured him, and this temptation is being presented to a boy who has every reason to nurture resentment about his past. Of course Harry knows nothing about the “real” Slytherin or the “real” Gryffindor. But the point is that, based on what he thinks he knows, he chooses decency over power, fairness over retribution. Does it matter that the choice is based on a false perception of the Houses? What would a “true” perception be, anyway? I can’t imagine Dumbledore has any patience with an essentialist definition of what each house is “truly” about.
It may seem unnecessary for Dumbledore to stress this lesson at the end of CoS. True, Harry is re-evaluating a lot of his initial PS/SS impressions in CoS, but the temptation theme, the parallel with Tom, doesn’t seem to have any real bite to it. But maybe, here, Dumbledore is seeing further into Harry than Harry can see for himself. At twelve, Harry seems in no danger of becoming another Dark Lord. He’s reflexively decent, instinctively bounded and lacking in real malice. But what happens when he grows up and realizes that no one is enforcing those moral boundaries? What happens when he realizes how much stronger he is than other people?
On the surface, Harry has a normal boy’s fondess for disorder – the agreeable chaos of the Weasleys is a healthy contrast to the control-obsessed Dursleys. He likes the gross-out humor of the Death-day party and the Mandrakes. He’s attracted to the sense of disorder and danger presented by the CoS mystery, and by the implicit license for rule-breaking that solving the mystery represents.
no subject
I confess, though, that I am generally a Dumbledore fan, and I’d like to try to defend him if I can. I agree that he can be manipulative, but I don’t think he’s evil. One of the difficulties of reading Dumbledore, I think, is that a part of us very much wants to see him as the all-knowing, all-powerful projection of Harry’s childish imagination, and when he doesn’t live up to that, and of course he can never live up to that, a sort of adolescent disappointment and cynicism take over, and we yell for his head.
Dumbledore’s real mission, I think, is to prepare those who can handle it for an effective life in a morally chaotic world. His chief lesson is that there are no formulas or guarantees, no immunity from risk or suffering, no substitute for good judgment and a resilient character. To advance this lesson, he doesn’t bother much with grand, consistent lectures, but probes and hints and makes suggestions and reinforces behavior that he thinks will serve his individual students well. And he ruthlessly suppresses self-pity and second-thoughts. To see the relevance of his method, I think you have to look very closely at individual cases, at the psychological dynamics of individual characters, perhaps even more than at Dumbledore’s actual words.
I don’t agree, for example, that his praise for Harry’s choice of Gryffindor over Slytherin represents a prejudice against Slytherin. I think it has nothing to do with the houses, and everything to do with the particulars of Harry’s case. Look at what the Hat actually says to him – for Harry, Slytherin is an opportunity for greatness, for power, perhaps retributive power over a world that has injured him, and this temptation is being presented to a boy who has every reason to nurture resentment about his past. Of course Harry knows nothing about the “real” Slytherin or the “real” Gryffindor. But the point is that, based on what he thinks he knows, he chooses decency over power, fairness over retribution. Does it matter that the choice is based on a false perception of the Houses? What would a “true” perception be, anyway? I can’t imagine Dumbledore has any patience with an essentialist definition of what each house is “truly” about.
It may seem unnecessary for Dumbledore to stress this lesson at the end of CoS. True, Harry is re-evaluating a lot of his initial PS/SS impressions in CoS, but the temptation theme, the parallel with Tom, doesn’t seem to have any real bite to it. But maybe, here, Dumbledore is seeing further into Harry than Harry can see for himself. At twelve, Harry seems in no danger of becoming another Dark Lord. He’s reflexively decent, instinctively bounded and lacking in real malice. But what happens when he grows up and realizes that no one is enforcing those moral boundaries? What happens when he realizes how much stronger he is than other people?
On the surface, Harry has a normal boy’s fondess for disorder – the agreeable chaos of the Weasleys is a healthy contrast to the control-obsessed Dursleys. He likes the gross-out humor of the Death-day party and the Mandrakes. He’s attracted to the sense of disorder and danger presented by the CoS mystery, and by the implicit license for rule-breaking that solving the mystery represents.
[continued . . . ]