Rowling, J.K.: (05) Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

I said I was going to re-read Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, by (of course) J.K. Rowling, before reviewing it properly. And I was going to, honest. But it just sat there and I kept finding excuses to avoid it, and finally I had to admit that it wasn’t going to happen. (And then I got busy and took forever to finish this review. Does anyone really care, at this late date, what I thought of this book? I didn’t think so.)

I had a minor revelation as to why I was avoiding a re-read: Order of the Phoenix is the Teckla of the Harry Potter series.

I suppose I should explain for non-Brust readers. The Vlad Taltos series is told in First-Person Smartass; when the series opens in Jhereg, our narrator is an assassin-for-hire and minor Mafia boss. In Teckla, the third book in publication order, Vlad begins to have moral qualms about the assassin thing. Also, his marriage is falling apart in seriously messy fashion. And in reaction to all that, he is just so wrong, that it’s quite painful to read. However. It’s unquestionably a necessary book and an important turning point in the series. And the series, as a whole, rocks.

Order of the Phoenix is (hopefully) like that: painful but necessary. It’s not quite as painful as Teckla because it’s third person, not first, and further the third isn’t that tight. (This is something I’d noticed in prior books; I don’t get nearly as much sense of Harry’s personality from the narration as for Bujold’s characters, for instance. Chad’s suggested that this may be partly a genre thing, citing Will in Susan Cooper’s Dark Is Rising series as another example; I don’t know about that, but I offer it for your consideration.) However, our point-of-view character still spends most of the book mired in unhappiness and anger—and doing painfully stupid things as a result. Which makes it hard to read.

It’s also a remarkably claustrophobic book, considering its length. There are two distinct plot threads running through the book, one with Voldemort and one with the Ministry; these don’t really come together, but I think that’s acceptable as we’re in much more of a continuing story now, one that’s no longer confined to Hogwarts. However, because of the limitations of third-person POV and Harry’s own self-centeredness, we end up knowing very little about events outside Hogwarts once Harry gets to school. This claustrophobia also points out another way in which Harry is wrong: one of the strongest themes of the book is the consequences of insularity. In fact, from what we learn in this book, I think it’s reasonable to say that the overarching conflict in the series is tolerance and cooperation versus slavery and genocide. Worryingly, many of the secondary conflicts introduced in this book are not yet explicit, never mind resolved; Order of the Phoenix is a more complex book than it appears at first glance, but it also is leaving a lot for the last two books. (The fixed length and format of the series, but the complete lack of hints as to future plots, makes judging the pacing a tricky thing; it’s the old “well, looks like we’re ready for big things to really starting happening” problem. At least I’m confident that the number of books won’t increase, unlike some other Big Name Authors . . . )

I think the pacing of the book is generally better than Goblet of Fire, though I haven’t read that one recently. The pre-Hogwarts section of this one is, upon reflection, somewhat too long; there is a reason for it to be there, but I think it could have been shorter and still made the same point. Otherwise, though, we only see very little of the usual distraction of everyday Hogwarts life, which streamlines the plot but heightens the bleak atmosphere. A minor diversion is Harry’s relationship with Cho. Some people vehemently insist these few scenes are childish and unrealistic; this attitude frankly baffles me, as I thought they were absolutely spot-on depictions of adolescent awkwardness. Another subplot, involving Hagrid, I found considerably less successful, except perhaps on a thematic level (and even that I’m not sure of). As far as the main plots, they climax in a tense and furiously exciting few chapters that had me on the edge of my metaphorical seat. I was most impressed.

The ending (1) answers some questions while raising many others, and (2) makes me considerably worried for Harry. Another way this book is like Teckla is that it deliberately, systematically, and thoroughly knocks away the protagonist’s supports, leaving him bereft and isolated (and angry, don’t forget angry). The book also sets up new supports for Harry, particularly in its development of some secondary characters (go Neville! Ahem.), but it is an open question whether he will take them.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is hardly a perfect book, and considering that my one-word opinion was “bleak,” back in June when people were asking, I can’t exactly say I enjoyed it. But I have to admire the increasingly complex explorations of character, morality, and consequences, and I also have to admire Rowling for daring to take the series in this direction. And only a well-crafted book could have me so worried about the futures of its characters. I will be eagerly awaiting the next, however many years from now it comes out.

(If this sounds somewhat disjointed, it may be because I’m trying to talk around spoilers. If you want my spoiler thoughts, try my LiveJournal.)

3 Replies to “Rowling, J.K.: (05) Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix”

  1. A minor diversion is Harry’s relationship with Cho. Some people vehemently insist these few scenes are childish and unrealistic; this attitude frankly baffles me, as I thought they were absolutely spot-on depictions of adolescent awkwardness.

    I didn’t think they were especially unrealistic, but they had a “Oh, crap, I need to get this out of the way” feel about them. There’ve been hints of a Harry-Cho romance for a couple of books now– a couple of long books– and then the whole thing was disposed of in something like four really perfunctory scenes.

  2. Congratulations: You’ve just made me want to read this book even less than I already did. When the sole redeeming virtue of a series is its bubbly fluffiness, making it all dark isn’t going to do much for me.

    (I don’t want dirge metal from the Spice Girls, either.)

  3. Chad: feeling like things have been perfunctorily dismissed has annoyed me in other books (_Lady Knight_, for Tamora Pierce readers), so I can understand the feeling. Considering the non-deep relationship here (a crush based on looks alone), the time spent on it worked for me, but YM does V.

    Mike: Obviously, I disagree about sole redeeming virtues, but I’d rather spend the energy in nagging you to read the Dortmunder books.

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