Potter's Popularity -- So What?

As I write, I can see the blocks falling before my eyes -- and they all fit so perfectly in place. Unfortunately, I'm not sure my thoughts will convey the same symmetry and sense of satisfaction.

To answer the easiest question first, my girls have not read and have no plans to read Harry Potter. Emily claims that she doesn't like "fantasy" books. Given what I have heard about the elegance and gripping-ness of Rowling's writing, I am disappointed that she has not given them a try. (In general, she is not much of a reader, which gnaws at my bibliophilic identity, but, as you will learn, you do have to let your kids be true to themselves and not your vision of what you want them to be.) Shira looks to be a bit more of a reader, but has not read the Potter books. Perhaps she will someday. Jonathan, to sound boastful, could probably read the Potter books now, though only in a technical sense. He wouldn't understand the words. We'll give him a couple of years.

By the way, as the last paragraph suggests, I have not dug into them yet either. I generally resist popular trends -- especailly with books, where I am incredibly priggish in my tastes -- but I will probably take them up someday. Perhaps I'll read them together with Jonathan.

Actually, the Potter books pose an interesting cultural question and one that pops up in the education world frequently: is reading instrinsically a positive activity or does the content matter? As kids storm book stores to get the latest Rowling offering, most would be inclined to answer that a positive attitude toward reading among youth is a good thing, no matter what, but what if, some cultural critics counter, they never progress from Potter to Shakeare and Dickens? And, more to the point, does it matter? Who is the cultural arbiter that says that Rowling's books aren't as intrinsically valuable as "David Copperfield"? (As another aside, I have taken up "Great Expectations" recently, as the last time I read it was in high school. Without disparaging Mr. Dickens too much, I can certainly see the point of those who argue that Victorian literature is not magically better than 21st century American literature.)

To your more philosophical question about exposing kids to pain and loss in literature, I'm not sure I have any deep or original answer. I tend to think you need to weigh each instance separately and make a judgment based on the details of the situation, the personality of your kid(s), and, frankly, what you want the outcome to be. I remember that when we first got "The Lion King" on video, we would, when Emily was watching it, religiously skip over the scene of Mufasa's death. Finally, when she was about 4 1/2, we let her watch the movie the whole way through, fearing the worst. Guess what? Not an eyelash was batted. Partly because kids don't really know what death is -- at least in our upper-middle class America -- they don't really have a sense that there should be an adverse reaction. Needless to say, Shira was a lot younger when exposed to that scene. Other than her irrational fear of wildebeasts, you can't even tell!

Seriously, I think the bottom line is that you shouldn't fret too much. Kids are remarkably resilient and so such exposure is not too taxing on their minds. Of course, I wouldn't go take Abby to "Friday the 13th" movies any time soon, but when exposure to pain and loss in art is limited and in ways that aren't psychologically jarring because of their graphic or intense nature, there is nothing to fear. Lesson of the day: G-rated movies are safe.