Visit Harry Potter and Many Other Fantastical Folks at Universal Studios Islands of Adventure

A couple years ago, my aunt and uncle took a trip to Florida, and while they were there, they saw advertisements for the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, which would be opening the following year. My aunt told me that whenever they decided to go to Florida to check out this new park, I was invited to go along. Just before my birthday this year, they announced that we were going this spring, and it was an epic vacation that included Universal and Disney World, as well as Sea World, a drive-through safari, a renaissance fair and an airboat ride through a swamp filled with alligators. But Harry was the one who propelled this particular venture for my aunt and uncle, who, unlike me, are seasoned travelers. We spent two days at Universal Studios, which was where the Wizarding World of Harry Potter was located.

Universal is divided into two parks. Our passes allowed us to visit both parks, but on our first day, we ventured only into Islands of Adventure, which includes several themed sections, of which the Harry Potter one is the newest. We also returned to this part of the park our second time through, after we had made our way through Universal's more low-key park. Islands of Adventure is jam-packed with rides, attractions and costumed characters, and you'll be hard-pressed to see everything you want to in a single day.

As it happened, our first day at Universal was St. Patrick's Day, and the park seemed to be especially packed as a result. We just made our way through in order of what was closest to the entrance, which meant that we started out with the section focusing on classic comic book characters. Marvel Super Hero Island included some pretty intense-looking rides; the only one I went on was the Spider-man ride, which simulated a ride through the city where we helped Spider-Man battle baddies and got sprinkled with water or tinged with heat from fiery explosions. While we were in this part of the park, we saw a parade of Marvel characters and snapped a few pictures. A few of them came up onto the sidewalks and posed for photos with guests.

While the Marvel world was fun, I really loved Toon Lagoon, which was filled with nifty cut-out displays of characters from comic strips ranging from Beetle Bailey to Family Circus. We spent a fair bit of time here just snapping pictures of each other next to or under the various displays. I loved the one with the cranky Shoe editor muttering, "A good editor never sleeps," and I got a kick out of the unaccompanied dialogue bubble just above head level simply stating, "I feel like there is a cloud over my head."

This part of the park included my two favorite rides, aside from the thrilling Hogwarts Castle tour. Dudley Do-Wright, the clueless Mountie, was the theme of the log flume, and we spent close to two hours waiting for Dudley Do-Wright's Ripsaw Falls, after which point we decided that the fast passes would be a good idea. The wait wasn't bad, though, because the line was filled with quirky announcements, Dudley Do-Wright cartoons and artwork. The ride itself is a log flume ride rather like the Magic Kingdom's Splash Mountain, and it tells a story using jumbo figures and dialogue and narration coming out of the speakers nearby. The basic storyline has Dudley clumsily saving the day from the nefarious Snidely Whiplash, with the result that he is celebrated by the town but still rejected by the girl of his dreams. The tale is entertaining, and the ride is tons of fun for a hot day. I rode it three times over the course of two days, and I got completely soaked each time - though the third time, I rode it later in the day than I should have, with the result that I was shivering all through dinner. You're best off getting this one out of the way well before 5:00. Same goes for Popeye and Bluto's Bilge Rat Barges, which is comparable to the white water rapids ride at Hersheypark. If the splash from going down a waterfall doesn't get you, the downpour from waterfalls above you will. Plus, you have the people up on the bridges paying to aim water at you. There's no avoiding getting drenched on this ride, though handily, there is a sealed plastic compartment in the middle in which to store your belongings, and they'll stay pretty dry as long as you put them in there. Like Ripsaw Falls, this includes several jumbo figures from the cartoon scattered throughout the ride and combined with dialogue from the speakers. It's very entertaining and refreshing.

Another ride involving a circular raft is the Jurassic Park River Adventure, the only ride I went on in that section of the park. It starts out nice and mellow, almost like the Jungle Cruise, and the gorgeous score from the movie augments the beauty of those animatronic plant-eating dinosaurs. Then you leave the sunny outdoor area and go inside, where it's dark and dire warnings about malfunctions flash and blare. This part of the ride is creepy, particularly the huge Tyrannosaurus Rex that lunges down upon you just before you go down the ride's final hill. There's a bit of a splash to this one, but it's nothing compared to the ones in Ripsaw Falls and Bilgerat Barges, and you could probably ride this one a little later in the day and not have to worry so much about getting dry. Outside of the ride, there are a number of photo spots, and we just enjoyed wandering through on our way to the wizards. The Lost Continent is around here too, and we didn't spend much time there at all the first day, but the second day we did the walk-through show Poseidon's Fury, which had some really cool special effects, not to mention a very enthusiastic human guide.

Seuss Landing is designed mostly with kids in mind, so none of the rides are that thrilling for adults, but this part of the park is incredibly visually appealing. Everywhere you look is a statue of some Seuss character, and the whole thing is eye-poppingly colorful. I took oodles of pictures in this part of the park, and it's just a joy to walk through. Whatever your favorite Seuss book is, you'll probably find it here in some form or another. The carousel is a real thing of beauty, populated as it is by all sorts of Seussish creatures, and I love the display dedicated to the Lorax and the old Onceler. We rode on the Cat in the Hat ride, which is an entertaining dark ride that takes you through the events of the book, and the trolley ride, which provides a little tour of all the Seussian attractions in the area. Kids should love this park, along with adults who appreciate whimsy.

The Wizarding World of Harry Potter is an amazing sight for any Rowling fan. You get there, and it's like you have entered the wizarding village of Hogsmeade, where Hogwarts students go for occasional field trips. It's so compact that it's hard to really get a feel for how it looks without standing in the middle of it. Shops tower on all sides, some of them actually selling merchandise, others only storefronts there just for show. While the Hogwarts Express does not actually go anywhere, you can get your picture taken with the engine and stroll through the station. This park has three rides, two of which I went on, as the Dragon Challenge looked a little too twisty for me. The Flight of the Hippogriff is short, but it's an exhilarating little roller coaster, and I love the line for this ride because it includes Hagrid's hut, and you get to hear his voice booming out from the speaker. I was hoping that there would be a photo op spot with Hagrid or a character walking around, but this little area is very cool. I just wish that guests were able to actually go into the cabin.

The park has no specific characters walking around, but it is filled with witches and wizards serving as prefects. The main attraction of the park is Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey, a mega-cool virtual tour of Hogwarts. You can't use express passes on this one, and the line is rather confusing. You're not allowed to bring loose articles with you, unless you can manage to stash them in your clothing. I didn't realize this until I got almost to the front of the line, and I was told to go downstairs to stash my stuff in a locker, except there wasn't a locker available. My aunt was waiting outside, so she took my purse for me and I went back and managed to get back to roughly where I had been in line before, and I ended up on the ride just a few minutes after my cousin. Still, I think the line seemed a bit disorganized. I loved looking at all of the displays inside the castle, though. Talking portraits, desks of significant characters, the Gryffindor common room... It was a definite feast for the eyes and ears. The ride itself is a three-dimensional deal that combines movement and physical displays with virtual ones. You'll get to see several major points inside the castle and out. The idea is that you're following Harry and Hermione on broomstick, and some of the angles are pretty dizzying. I'll admit I walked off this one feeling a little woozy, but it was worth it to get the sensation that I was soaring over the Quidditch pitch or swooping through the Hogwarts dungeons. Several characters from the movies make an appearance as well, so this ride really is a lot of fun.

Also inside the castle is the massive gift shop, Filch's Emporium, where you can buy t-shirts, pillows, pins, action figures and all sorts of other collectibles. One thing I didn't see there was a postcard rack; there's a separate shop for that, and while we were there, they rolled a small cart outside so that we could buy postcards from there as well and have them stamped with the Hogsmeade postmark. Filch's Emporium was the only shop we entered the first day; on the second trip, we perused Zonko's joke shop and Honeyduke's candy shop, both of which were feasts for the eyes. My park souvenirs included a Hagrid pin and Harry's wand; while we didn't brave the massive line at Ollivander's wand shop, a couple of other places sold the wands as well, with styles modeled after the wands of several major characters.

Of course, we also had to try some butterbeer, the beloved beverage that so many Harry Potter fans have longed to taste. Scattered throughout this portion of the park are several butterbeer kiosks, and they draw quite a crowd as well. The plastic souvenir mugs are both snazzy and practical, as you won't have to worry much about them breaking while you're wandering through the park. After the first one, though, you can get it in disposable cups instead the mugs and pay less. The drink itself is a sort of mix of cream soda with butterscotch foam, and it's very refreshing on a hot Florida day. Pumpkin juice, another prominent Harry Potter drink, is available too, but we didn't try that, nor did we eat at the Three Broomsticks, the park's restaurant. Just as the pair of Mickey Mouse ears was my one essential purchase at Disney World, the butterbeer was my Must Buy at Universal, and it was worth the anticipation. Speaking of souvenirs, I highly recommend bringing a couple rolls of quarters and pennies so you can use the pressed penny machines located at many points throughout the park. These are very inexpensive but fun collectibles, and it can be a sort of treasure hunt to track as many down as you can. I think I returned from Florida with more than 30 from the different places we went to, and I would have had more if I'd thought to bring quarters ahead of time.

All in all, Universal's Islands of Adventure is an amazing place to spend the day. It's crowded and pricey, but the rides, characters, shops and general extravagance of the themes presented in as much vibrant detail as possible make it a thrilling stop for Harry Potter fans and fun-lovers of all ages.

A Little Girl Celebrates an Old-Fashioned Hallowe'en With Her Grandparents in Pumpkin Moonshine

When I went to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter earlier this year, one of the beverages for sale was pumpkin juice. I didn’t try it, preferring to stick with butterbeer; frankly, drinking pumpkin sounded a bit gross to me. Nonetheless, it is probably the second-most famous drink in the Harry Potter universe. When I came across Tasha Tudor’s Pumpkin Moonshine, I thought the subject would be a similar drink, but with more of a kick. It seemed an odd subject for a picture book, but that just intrigued me all the more.

As I started to read, it further surprised me that the character intending to make Pumpkin Moonshine was a little girl visiting her grandparents. Was this really a story about a pint-sized moonshiner? What sort of drunken revelry would follow?

By the time I reached the end of the book, I realized that I had misunderstood. This is not a story involving potent potables. Instead, it is just about a child eager to make a jack-o-lantern. A quick Google search seems to indicate that this terminology is an invention of Tudor’s, or at least a very obscure name. Was she trying to celebrate an old family tradition or be provocative with her title? There’s certainly nothing else provocative about the book.

Tudor’s dedication reads “a wee story for a very sweet wee person.” This is a small square book with light orange trim forming a thick border around each page. Each page on the left features a watercolor painting rendered in muted tones, while the right-hand page includes a paragraph that begins with the first letter in orange and set apart, large and in an orange calligraphy box. The black ink sketches seen here are thoroughly charming. None of the pages is very wordy; three sentences are the most any one of them has, and in those cases, at least one of the sentences is fairly short.

The main character, Sylvie Ann, is a cute little girl who looks like a short-haired, bonneted Alice in Wonderland. She is visiting her grandparents in Connecticut; Tudor doesn’t tell us what year this is, but it seems pretty old-fashioned, and I would estimate the date to be at some point in the 1800s. At one point she says that Sylvie and the dog Wiggy “puff like steam engines.” The landscape is bucolic and unspoiled, with just a few hand-built structures dotting the farmland, and the spelling of the word Hallowe’en further suggests an older setting.

This is a charming little slice of life tale whose main event is the pumpkin Sylvie selects rolling down a hill. Various types of livestock scatter, and Mr. Hemmelskamp, an elderly neighbor who reminds me of the grandfather in Heidi, gets knocked for a loop. It’s mildly comical, but the writing style is pretty matter-of-fact. What’s more, after all the trouble she goes to so she can “make” her Pumpkin Moonshine, she only empties the pumpkin; her grandfather does the actual carving. Of course, that is probably for the best; small children and sharp knives don’t make a great combination.

This book was published in 1958 and feels older than that. Some children may find it too old-fashioned, but Pumpkin Moonshine offers an appealing peek at a Halloween celebration of yesteryear.

Take a Trip Back to the Hundred-Acre Wood With Winnie the Pooh

When I first heard about Winnie the Pooh, Disney’s sequel to 1977’s The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, I immediately realized that it would come out the same weekend as Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2. How could I choose between the bear I’ve loved all my life and the wizard who took me on a magical literary journey lasting nearly a decade?

I do question the wisdom of Disney releasing Winnie the Pooh on that particular weekend, when any box office revenue would be dwarfed by one of the most anticipated movies in recent memory, but perhaps the thought was that it would fill the niche of children too young for Harry Potter. I was only able to catch one of the movies opening weekend, and I couldn’t resist the allure of Harry, but I caught up with Pooh and his friends this weekend. His adventure is far shorter and simpler, but it’s just as enjoyable in its own breezy way, at least for a lifelong fan like me.

It surprised me to hear Winnie the Pooh described as Pooh’s first time on the big screen since the 1970s. Other Pooh movies have been released in theaters, featuring the same basic look and several of the same cast members as Pooh’s first Disney outing, so I’m not sure why this one is considered so fundamentally different. Then again, it does feel more closely tied with Many Adventures, given the strong presence of the narrator and the frequent interaction with the book in which the stories reside. One scene makes particularly clever use of some letters that tumble into the tale.

There’s nothing revolutionary about this movie. Life in the Hundred-Acre Wood is very simple, with just a few basic problems that plague its residents time and again. Hence, Eeyore losing his tail is familiar territory, as is Owl misreading a note from Christopher Robin and sending everyone into a panic, Piglet facing his fear and Pooh running out of honey. Because of the leisurely pace and the repetitive nature of the stories, my guess is that many adults will find it a bit on the snoozy side despite the mere 70-minute length, and some kids might as well. One family in my showing actually left halfway through. You have to go into this movie with a certain mindset, accepting that its driving events are not going to be very adrenaline-inducing.

The movie reprises a couple of established songs and introduces several others, though most are short and forgettable. The most memorable is a fearsome description of the Backson, the beast that has allegedly kidnapped Christopher Robin. This sequence, accompanied by chalkboard illustrations, has a trippy edge to it reminiscent of the Heffalumps and Woozles sequence in the original film. The characters’ imaginations run away with them as they dream up all the dreadful things this monster does, and the song seems to invite post-movie creativity from children in the audience.

All of the voice actors are expressive and fit into their roles well, but most of the cast is new for this movie, and the differences take some getting used to. Jim Cummings continues to inhabit the role of Pooh perfectly, and he does an admirable job with Tigger as well, but Travis Oates’ voice is distractingly high as Piglet. The tone is about right, but the pitch makes it sound like he’s on helium. He’s been playing Piglet on My Friends Tigger and Pooh and related specials since John Fiedler’s death in 2007, but this is my first encounter with the new Piglet, and he hasn’t quite won me over yet. Tom Kenny takes over for Ken Sansom as Rabbit for the first time, and his voice sounds decidedly off as well. Bud Luckey fares better as despondent Eeyore; aside from sounding a bit too Southern at times, he seems like a good match for Peter Cullen. Wyatt Dean Hall is fittingly spunky as Roo, while Jack Boulter is a more refined but still boyish Christopher Robin, Kristen Anderson-Lopez makes a very maternal Kanga and John Cleese is a predictably fine narrator.

The standout cast member for me, though, is Craig Ferguson, who seems to be having the time of his life as the grandiloquent Owl. Having often watched Ferguson’s rambling monologues on The Late Late Show, I would say that the character is an ideal fit with his style, and I can’t help wondering whether he had the same sort of free improvisational rein that Robin Williams did with Aladdin. Owl similarly steals the show, getting most of the best lines and generally making more of an impression than any other character, even Pooh himself. Ferguson nails the essence of the character, striking a perfect balance of sophistication and silliness whether he’s composing his extensive memoirs or delivering a rousing speech of encouragement to Piglet as he embarks on a rescue mission that Owl could much more easily undertake himself. His insistence on using complicated vocabulary is a running joke throughout the movie as poor muddled Pooh tries to puzzle out his meaning, and I found myself reminded of Trixie Belden scratching her head over the overly complex proclamations of her older brother Mart. I’d love to see those two try to talk each other under the table.

While most of the movie is more likely to elicit a nostalgic smile than a hearty laugh, some scenes are quite funny, and most involve words in some way. Pooh and Eeyore’s misunderstanding of Owl’s use of the word “issue” and a discussion of knots that reminds me of Abbott and Costello’s Who’s On First? routine are a hoot, as is the way everyone’s speech becomes absurdly littered with the word “honey” when the rumbly in Pooh’s tumbly gets to be too much for him to bear. This movie paints Kanga as being easily annoyed by loud noises, which adds to the humor and makes her more prominent than usual. It also seems like a sly nod to the parents in the audience who can probably relate all too well with her desire for a little peace and quiet.

The movie also emphasizes the consideration the characters have for each other. When they believe Christopher Robin to be in danger, everyone steps up to the plate to help. When Eeyore gets left out of the main contingent’s plan to rescue him, Tigger takes him under his wing. Piglet braves the spooky forest and Pooh puts his craving for honey aside for the sake of their friends. That pervasive spirit of camaraderie, even more than the idyllic scenery and the lackadaisical lifestyle, is what makes the thought of a sojourn in the Hundred-Acre Wood so appealing.

Disney tends to reward viewers patient enough to sit through the credits, and that’s certainly the case here. To the tune of a charming new song by Zooey Deschanel, the credits roll, complete with animated tidbits as Pooh and his pals interact with the names scrolling down the screen. There’s even a final funny scene at the very end of the credits that is well worth the short wait.

Before the movie, meanwhile, we’re treated to The Ballad of Nessie, an old-school-style short warmly narrated in rhyme by Billy Connolly. Given Ferguson’s prominence in the movie – albeit with an upper crust British accent rather than his natural Glaswegian accent – I wonder if he was a factor in deciding to pair the film up with this short, which is largely a celebration of stereotypical Scotland. With a rustic, bagpipe-laced score reminiscent of Ashokan Farewell and nods to everything from thistles and tartans to golf and Braveheart, it has great appeal for those who love that country as much as I do. Nessie, with her rosy cheeks, long eyelashes and vaguely Wookiee-like voice, is adorable, as is her rubber duck companion, and the takeaway message is a worthwhile one.

My showing of Winnie the Pooh had an audience of about a dozen, and I doubt that was too atypical. It doesn’t have the same sort of blockbuster draw that Harry Potter or even a typical animated Disney feature does; despite the popularity of Pooh products, most consider the movies themselves to be the realm of the very young. However, if you’re still young at heart and if you ever wished you could blink yourself to the Hundred-Acre Wood for a day, I suspect you will find this outing with Pooh and his friends a pleasant return to beloved company.

Harry Potter Ends Again With Deathly Hallows - Part 2

Four years ago, J. K. Rowling’s epic Harry Potter saga ended. Now, with the last of the movies out in theaters, the Harry Potter era has truly come to an end. This time, however, I feel neither the sense of loss nor catharsis that I did back then. For me, Harry Potter was never the intense cinematic experience Lord of the Rings was. Despite having lived with hobbits far longer, I found Peter Jackson’s adaptation so exquisitely crafted I barely minded the deviations. As movies, they were singularly enthralling. The Harry Potter films, on the other hand, have always seemed like pale imitations of the books. I spent so much time building up to and thinking over Deathly Hallows that I couldn’t silence the purist this time around. This was the culmination, and there were certain things I simply needed to see in order to be truly satisfied. Some spoilers ahead as I try to work out my reactions to the final film.

Deathly Hallows: Part 2 begins on a despairing note as the faces of two dark characters fill the screen, eliciting shudders as we see a Hogwarts under frightening new management. From the horror of blackened parapets and looming Dementors, we go to the placid quietude of Shell Cottage, where Harry (Daniel Radcliffe), Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson) are preparing to make their next move. They consult briefly with two minor characters, one of whom will continue on with them for a time. From then on, it’s almost nonstop action right up until the end, with just a few brief stops for significant conversations. After the minimal role Hogwarts played in the seventh movie, it serves as the setting for the majority of this last installment, and because we’re not limited to Harry’s perspective, the movie allows us to see how students and adults alike defend the castle against invading forces.

Grint and Watson make excellent wingmen as before, though there is little opportunity for levity, and I missed that. Watson stood out to me more this time as the more emotional of the two, though Ron does have one truly wrenching scene that Grint nails despite its disappointing brevity. Following these two on their own quest feels satisfying, and we generally see considerably more of them than we do in the final portion of the book. Because the trio is so much at the heart of the movies, it feels fitting for these two to have a slightly expanded role, though it does lead to at least one scene that feels implausible, and it still feels in the movies as though Hermione has a bit more chemistry with Harry than with Ron – and much more than Harry does with Ginny. In fact, partly because Hermione is by Harry’s side much more than she really should be, Watson’s acting made more of an impression on me than Radcliffe’s most of the time.

Like the first installment of Deathly Hallows, this was written by Steve Kloves and directed by David Yates. Once the action moves to Hogwarts, both seem to have made a concentrated effort to include as many characters as possible, even when we scarcely saw them in the book. Most of these additions feel true to Rowling, filling in gaps by showing what precisely might have happened throughout the rest of the school while Harry tried to complete his Horcrux hunt. I particularly loved the added moments with Professor McGonagall; Maggie Smith may look wispy, but she is as fierce as ever. Because the majority of the movie involves the Battle of Hogwarts, she feels like a vital part of the proceedings instead of just a cameo. Several of the professors are reduced to that status, but at least their brief appearances exemplify their character traits and the spirit of camaraderie amongst the Hogwarts staff. I found myself particularly moved by the mere presence of Herbology professor Pomona Sprout (Miriam Margolyes).

Ciaran Hinds is the only major addition to the cast in this movie. He perfectly conveys the gruff cynicism of the Hogs Head proprietor who offers some much-needed aid, and I have no qualms with his performance, though I wish the trio could have lingered with him a bit longer. Albus Dumbledore’s backstory, so crucial to the final book, is barely addressed in the movies, and Harry’s conflict over whether to continue following him is likewise largely ignored. Similarly, they Grey Lady (Kelly Macdonald), a ghost with whom Harry briefly confers, loses most of her backstory, though her personality seems about right, and I like the way the movie draws Luna (the always-luminous Evanna Lynch) into that moment.

Hagrid, so magnificently portrayed by Robbie Coltrane, has always been my favorite character in the Potterverse and is a big part of the reason Chamber of Secrets is my favorite of the films. This movie allows him three all-too-brief shining moments, though I was disappointed not to get a true sense of his anguish in one of them. Helena Bonham-Carter is icktastic as always, and props go to her for her complex and largely comical performance in one of the movie’s earliest scenes. Aside from a truly head-scratching moment involving her wand and an overly gruesome escape, the Gringotts escapade is well done, especially the dizzying cart ride down to the vault, which probably would have made me sick to my stomach if I’d seen it in 3-D.

Of all the actors in the movies, none has been able to do as much with so little as Alan Rickman. Severus Snape’s presence in the final film is actually more pronounced than in the book, and from sheer menace to heartbreaking revelation, he commands the audience’s attention every second that he is on the screen. I also commend the cinematography in Snape’s final scenes, particularly a moment under a vast willow, an instant of exceptional beauty in the midst of the rarely relenting darkness.

There’s little humor to lighten the mood this time around. What does remain largely comes from side characters and is mostly much appreciated. There are some scenes, though, that the movie cheapens a bit through ill-timed attempts at levity. Matthew Lewis has his moment in the sun as long-overlooked Neville Longbottom, but at least half of his appearances involve laughs at his expense. On the other hand, I love McGonagall’s aside that gives underused Seamus (Devon Murray) a small but memorable part to play in the final battle. James and Oliver Phelps really get short-changed here, denied any last quips or hijinks as boisterous Fred and George, and though Chris Rankin Is in the cast list, if Percy was there, I blinked and missed him.

Because the second part of Deathly Hallows is so action-oriented, there weren’t as many little moments that I missed here, particularly since the seventh movie prepared me for the fact that most of what I truly loved about the conclusion was not a priority for the filmmakers. Many of the payoffs that impacted me profoundly in the book wouldn’t have made the proper impression in the movie anyway since the groundwork hadn’t been laid. Still, it irked me a bit that the only iconic Weasley moment that makes the transition from book to screen untouched is one of ferocity. Yes, there is intense love wrapped up in it, and it certainly got a cheer out of the crowd I was with, but the movie avoids both the most exuberant and the most devastating moment for that family, though it at least hints at the latter.

Visually, the movie Is mostly impressive, with Luna’s Punky Brewster-bright wardrobe adding a welcome splash of color whenever she appears, which is all too seldom. To cover for the lack of exposition and detective work that led to the finding of the Horcruxes in the novel, the movie relies more deeply on Harry’s connection with Voldemort, having the cursed objects basically reveal themselves to him, even at great distances. This is a convenient device that mostly works, though the scenes that focus on that telepathic bond are disorienting and unpleasant to watch. Scarcely any scene from the book remains truly intact, but thankfully one of them is Harry’s walk through the Forest, the only moment at which I felt tears begin to form in the corners of my eyes.

Speaking of changes to the book, in addition to multiple obliterated subplots and sapping away most of the literary, spiritual and theological threads so masterfully woven through the novels, the movie makes some alterations that simply make no sense. For instance, Harry makes almost no use of his Invisibility Cloak, with the result that he’s wandering around the school in the midst of the melee, and having the eyes of fellow students and professors upon him at that point feels uncomfortable and strange. Meanwhile, the importance of the cloak as one of the Hallows is entirely lost in the shuffle.

If he’s too visible during the earlier part of the battle, he’s not visible enough at its culmination, and the egregious deviation from the books at the climactic moment is the adaptive choice I find hardest to forgive. Indeed, I’m rather shocked Rowling allowed the alteration, which is a much more significant change than the decision to pair up two characters in a non-canonical relationship that I felt was an improvement on the book. On another minor but important note, if you’re going to emphasize the fact that Harry has his mother’s eyes – and you’re going to ignore all the reasons for that color being green – it would at least behoove you to notice that Lily’s eyes are brown while Harry’s are blue and color-correct accordingly.

But the movies never have been too interested in getting those sorts of details right. In the end, Deathly Hallows: Part 2 is an acceptable conclusion to the Harry Potter film franchise but a frail adaptation of the book. Aside from the muddy explanations of plot points that seem to rely on readers to fill in the blanks, I imagine I would have enjoyed it more if I were only familiar with the movies, which have always been far shallower than the novels. On the other hand, I don’t think I would have fallen so deeply and utterly in love with Rowling’s world and the characters that populate it. They say that a picture is worth a thousand words, but I see the Harry Potter films as one long visual homage to a master craftsman, an impression that seems confirmed in a quotable bit of wisdom imparted to Harry toward the end of the movie. This addition seems to acknowledge that in Rowling’s words is where the true enchantment of Harry Potter lies. While the movies are undeniable labors of love, what they mostly make me want to do is read the books again.

Doug Swieteck Steps Out of the Shadows in the Luminous Okay For Now

In Gary Schmidt’s The Wednesday Wars, the young narrator, Holling, receives an extraordinary opportunity that he shares with two other boys. One of them is class troublemaker Doug Swieteck, and his inclusion in this invitation has an even greater impact on him than on the main character and his best friend. That much is plain just from Holling’s observation. But it isn’t until Okay For Now, Schmidt’s equally remarkable sequel, that we get to hear Doug speak for himself and come to understand just how profoundly this incident moved him.

At the beginning of Okay For Now, Doug and his family relocate to Marysville, still in New York but a bit of a distance away from the big city. They move into a ramshackle house Doug refers to as The Dump, and at first glance, he sees nothing in town that looks too promising. It’s the summer before eighth grade, and Doug is hot and miserable, keenly aware of being an outsider in a boring town with judgmental residents. At home, he has to deal with his older brother, a whirling dervish of destruction, and his father, who seems like an adult version of his brother. His oldest brother, Lucas, is off fighting in the Vietnam War, though Doug can’t say he misses him much, since Lucas wasn’t any nicer to him than the other men of the family. Doug’s mother, however, is another matter. She speaks very little throughout the novel, as she is cowed by the fear of an abusive husband, but she clearly is a woman of warmth and compassion, and Doug adores her.

In Wednesday Wars, the central relationship of the book is between Holling and his teacher, Mrs. Baker. Several mentors come into Doug’s life in his eighth grade year, but his core relationship is with Lil Spicer, a spunky classmate he meets on his first day in town. It is she who leads him to the library where he will discover the artwork of John James Audubon and befriend Mr. Powell, a librarian who gives him art lessons. It is she who gets him a job working as a delivery boy for her father’s deli, which leads to several more acquaintanceships, most importantly with Mrs. Windermere, an eccentric playwright, and the Daughertys, who hire Doug to babysit regularly for their five rambunctious children. It is she who becomes his truest refuge in the tumultuous year to follow.

Doug makes no secret of his devotion to his mother, but he is even more effusive in his praise of Lil and can scarcely mention her without remarking on her dazzling green eyes – a trait she shares, incidentally, with Lily, the virtuous mother of Harry Potter – or her stunning smile or the warmth of her hand when she reaches over to squeeze his in encouragement. My favorite of his many descriptions comes toward the end of the book, in the chapter named after the Brown Pelican print that hangs in the office of Principal Peattie, a condescending man who speaks of himself in the third person and is prejudiced against Doug because of the rumors circulating about his brother. “You know how pretty someone can be when she opens up a book?” Doug asks us. “Especially if she has brown hair the color of the pelican’s feathers?”

Just as a series of Shakespeare’s plays provides a good deal of scaffolding for Wednesday Wars, the birds of Audobon give this book structure and focus. Doug is startled to find himself so drawn to those birds, and he recoils at Mr. Powell’s initial attempts to encourage him to artistically capture them. But they become incredibly important to him. Each is a bird featured in a magnificent collection of Audobon paintings housed at the library – a hefty volume that is incomplete because the town council has seen fit to sell individual prints from the book to collectors. Restoring those birds to their proper place in the library becomes Doug’s overarching mission for the year. Having this concrete goal, as well as the perpetual project of becoming more adept at drawing the birds, is very good for Doug. Moreover, studying the birds at length helps him to work through some of his own issues.

Doug frequently asks the reader some variation of “You know how that feels?” He wants us to be able to put ourselves into his situation, just as he puts himself into the situation of the birds in the paintings. It turns out that he is a deeply empathetic soul, with a great concern for the lonely, the weak, the disenfranchised, the frightened. He sees these qualities in many of the birds he studies; they seem to him fellow victims of an unfair fate. But gradually, he begins to see other things as well, like nobility, compassion, devotion and courage. As he looks at these birds in a new light, he begins to imagine new possibilities for himself as well.

Doug has a wonderfully earthy pre-teen voice. It’s more direct and less pensive than Holling’s, and I didn’t really get the sense, as I did in the first book, that he was looking back on this year from several years in the future. His gruff, matter-of-fact tone reminds me of LOST’s Frank Lapidus; his style can perhaps best be summed up in his assessment of his English class’s poetry unit: “Why can’t poets just say what they want to say and then shut up?” His words, especially toward the beginning, often have a harsh edge. He liberally applies the word “stupid,” particularly if he’s describing Marysville. “Terrific,” he often grumbles, allowing that sarcastic thought a line to itself on the page. “So what?” comes up a lot, as does “I’m not lying”; this is a kid who is used to being on the defensive. He also frequently refers to himself as a chump – or, conversely, protests that he is not a chump.

Although Doug’s mind is often an angsty place to be, it has an undeniable beauty of its own, and his repetitive turns of phrase come to feel enjoyably familiar rather than annoyingly redundant. He is at his most poetic when he draws comparisons between the birds and himself, his family members and Lil, though his rambling run-on sentences, many of which describe moments of unexpected happiness, also offer a refreshing break from his typically terse style. It feels as though he’s releasing a whole lot of pent-up emotion. For instance: “You know how good an orange Dreamsicle tastes on a blue fall day when you’re full of grilled chicken and your mother is laughing a real laugh like she used to and once you look over and your father is holding her hand like they haven’t in a long long long time?”

One of Doug’s frequent observations is that when things seem to be going well, they always take a turn for the worse. His eighth grade year is full of ups and downs, and while many of Holling’s low points in the previous book are comically disastrous, Doug’s tend to veer more toward the tragic. It’s hard for him to imagine a truly happy life for himself. When he does dare to dream, most of his visions involve baseball player Joe Pepitone, his personal hero. In the first book, baseball provides a harsh lesson for Holling in just how much those we look up to can let us down. The lesson Doug gets is quite the opposite – that sometimes, when you least expect it, people may step up to the plate. Good things can happen, even to a guy who’s always been stuck with his brothers’ discarded leftovers and judged by their misdeeds, and the statistics that he studies so intently don’t necessarily determine what is going to happen next. Life is full of surprises, and some of them are wonderful.

As in Wednesday Wars, the historical context is of the utmost importance to this novel. The Vietnam War rages on, and eventually Lucas returns from it, changed almost beyond recognition, which in turn sparks a massive change in the Swieteck family dynamics. Through Lucas and Doug’s gym teacher, a former drill sergeant, Schmidt delves into the war’s effect upon those who lived through it as soldiers. Meanwhile, Doug’s favorite teacher, the enthusiastic and kind-hearted Mr. Ferris, is ecstatic over the impending moon landing. Schmidt also sneaks in some sly jokes as he has teachers contemplate the future. Between Mr. Ferris and Mr. Powell, I found this book to be quite science-oriented, while faith plays a prominent role in the first book. This also seems to be a reflection of the differences between the two young narrators, one more philosophical, the other more down-to-earth. The differing perspectives deepen each other rather than detracting.

I loved The Wednesday Wars. Okay For Now is similar in some ways and very distinct in others, and I honestly can’t say which of the two I liked better. Each is equally exquisite, and I am excited to hear that Schmidt plans one more companion novel. Although there is minimal overlap between the two stories, read the first book first, as some of the events here will make a greater impact that way (and a couple of the events in the first will be spoiled for you if you read out of order). Then crack open the cover of this book and let yourself get lost in it. Doug Swieteck may be just “okay for now,” but his story is nothing short of exceptional.

Take the Plunge Off Ripsaw Falls With Dudley Do-Right at Universal Islands of Adventure

On March 14, I set off from Maryland with my Aunt Barb, Uncle Chuck and cousin Casey on a 14-hour drive that landed us in Orlando, Florida. One of the major stops on our itinerary was Universal Studios, particularly because the Wizarding World of Harry Potter had just opened there the year before, and it’s no secret what a fan I am of that series. In fact, when Casey joined my family for a trip to Ocean City, Maryland 11 years ago, I risked carsickness and spent every spare moment in the car reading my brand-new copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I may be a Muggle, but I was eager to get a peek at the lifestyles of the magical and famous.

What I realized when we arrived for our first day at Universal was just how huge the place is. It’s divided into two parks, and each one is expansive. We worked our way toward Harry Potter, but oodles of fun awaited us first in other areas of Universal’s Islands of Adventure. Once we’d spent some time snapping pictures with the Marvel and classic cartoon displays in the two sections nearest the entrance, Aunt Barb made a beeline for Dudley Do-Right’s Ripsaw Falls, so that served as my introduction to the rides at Universal, and it was a good one.

The ride towers above much of Universal’s classic cartoon section. The name of the ride stands out at the top of an entryway, with a large circular saw blade neatly slicing the words “RIPSAW FALLS” in half. Other striking landmarks include the tower with a red Mountie hat on top and the sculpture of villainous Snidely Whiplash and pretty young Nell Fenwick carved into the side of the mountain. At the entryway, a wooden cut-out of Dudley helps riders determine whether they are tall enough to ride. The line then divides into regular riders and those with Fast Passes.

We didn’t have Fast Passes, so we went to the right, where a long line awaited us. This was St. Patrick’s Day, as well as Spring Break week for many students, so the park was packed. It took us well over an hour, and probably closer to two, to finally get on the ride. I didn’t mind too much, though, since there was so much within the line itself to keep us entertained. Various cut-outs scattered throughout the line made me chuckle, and several short videos played on the TV screens mounted on the walls. If you went into the ride unfamiliar with Dudley Do-Right, you certainly should have had a good idea of what this cheerfully dopey Canadian officer was all about by the time you got on.

Adding to the fun were the periodic announcements over the loudspeaker from other members of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. All of the ride employees wore snappy red uniforms that matched Dudley’s, which made the experience that much more immersive. After we realized how incredible crowded the park was that day, my aunt decided that we should get Fast Passes, which cost nearly as much as the price of park admission but cut your wait time down hugely, especially on such a busy day. We liked Ripsaw Falls so much that after we bought the Fast Pass, we went back and rode it again. The Fast Pass will only get you on each ride once, and a few of the rides don’t have Fast Pass lanes, but our experience tells me that if you buy a Fast Pass right off the bat, you should be able to get on every ride in Islands of Adventure if you put a full day in. The second time we rode Ripsaw Falls, we waited for fewer than ten minutes.

Ripsaw Falls is a pretty typical log flume ride, which takes you up big hills, around twisty bends and down sharp slopes, at the bottom of which you are pretty much guaranteed to get a soaking. Leave bags and other loose items with a non-rider if that’s an option, but your stuff will probably be all right in any case. I took my purse/camera bag on with me all three times, and my camera was inside and didn’t get wet. I definitely would recommend keeping cameras in some kind of bag, though, and holding them at such an angle as to minimize water exposure.

It’s not the wettest ride at Universal – that would be Popeye and Bluto’s Bilge-Rat Barges – but Ripsaw Falls is a close second. The ride proceeds like an episode of the series, which originated as a regular segment on The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show. Every once in a while the over-the-top narrator blasts some description out of the loudspeaker, and once in a while one of the major characters, integrated as statues all along the route, speaks as well.

There’s Dudley to the rescue, bumbling things every step of the way, shrieking Nell and slickly vile Snidely. At one point, we also get to see a struggling Inspector Fenwick expressing his spluttering displeasure at his situation. The ride ends with a splash and a curious combination of exultation and defeat as you ride in under a wide banner announcing “Big Award Ceremony Today!!” and hear the narrator conclude that “A Mountie always gets his man – but not necessarily his girl!” Because no matter how many times poor Dudley may inadvertently save the day, Nell is just not that into him.

This ride is pretty close to the entrance of Islands of Adventure, and with good reason. You probably want to ride it earlier rather than later. Granted, I probably wouldn’t get on it at 9 in the morning, but I would recommend getting it in by 3 or 4. I think it was nearing 1 the first time we rode it, and closing in on 2 the second time, and we had no trouble at all drying off in the sun. By the time we got to Harry Potter, we were good and ready for those frosty butterbeers.

The second day we went, we hit the other side of the park and only came back to Islands of Adventure to catch a couple of the best rides as we wound down. I think it was close to 5 when we rode it that day, and by the time the sun had gone down and we were having dinner at CityWalk, the avenue of shops and restaurants just outside the main park area, Aunt Barb and I were shivering and wishing we’d paid the five bucks to go through one of the super-strength people dryers located near the water rides.

Aside from the wet factor later in the day, the only downside to the ride is that you have to get in the logs with your legs flat out in front of you, and it’s pretty awkward to get in, especially since they really rush the process. My aunt and I both struggled to arrange our legs properly as we sat down, and Casey had to give us a hand getting up.

Still, the fact that this was the only ride at Universal that we went on three times tells you that it’s a pretty fantastic ride. It’s fun, with the theme perfectly carried out throughout the line and the ride alike. It’s a bit of a thrill, not least when you emerge from the long wait in darkness and emerge half-blinded into the bright sunshine. And on a hot day, it sure is refreshing. Like most of the rides at Universal, this one snaps your picture, so you can savor the experience even more with a photo as you zoom screaming down the hill. Come to think of it, I’m a little surprised none of us went for that, as many times as we rode it. But I don’t need a picture to remember this ride by; Dudley Do-Right’s Ripsaw Falls stands out clearly as one of the best rides at Universal.

Regan Takes Center Stage in Trixie Belden and the Black Jacket Mystery

It’s been more than a decade since I first read Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, but I remember well the sense of intrigue when I realized that Rubeus Hagrid, my favorite character in the Potterverse, had a deep, dark secret. Would it get him into trouble? Would it change my opinion of him? I had comparable concerns when I read Trixie Belden and the Black Jacket Mystery, the eighth book in the Trixie Belden series. Groomsman Bill Regan, whose relationship with the young gumshoes at the heart of the series reminds me a fair bit of Hagrid’s relationship with Harry, Ron and Hermione, steps out of the sidelines and into the spotlight here as he comes under Trixie’s scrutiny. Because I love Regan so much, I found this installment one of the most engrossing yet, especially since, after a bumpy seventh book, the characters all feel like themselves again.

This is the second book in the series written by “Kathryn Kenny,” a catch-all pseudonym for a number of ghostwriters who took the series over from original author Julie Campbell. If I hadn’t known that Campbell didn’t write this one, I’m not sure I would’ve picked up on the difference; this author does a great job of approximating her style. One scene that struck me as a little atypical was a conversation that Mr. and Mrs. Belden share, entirely out of earshot of Trixie or anyone else in the Bob-Whites, the exclusive club of which she is a part. It didn’t bother me, though; I thought it was rather nice to catch a glimpse of them in this private moment as spouses and parents.

All of the characterization here felt refreshingly right. I especially loved the change in Honey Wheeler, Trixie’s best friend and close neighbor, from volume seven. In that book, the author focuses almost entirely on Honey’s timidity and exaggerates it to a galling degree. Here, the emphasis is instead on the empathy and consideration that make her such an endearing character. As a houseguest, she deftly juggles the affections of Trixie’s three brothers, studious 16-year-old Brian, smart-alecky 14-year-old Mart and rambunctious 6-year-old Bobby. Meanwhile, despite his rude behavior to her, she persists in encouraging Trixie not to write off their surly new schoolmate Dan too quickly.

The trouble begins in this book when Trixie overhears part of a conversation between Regan and her parents. This aspect of the story made me chuckle a bit, since she steadfastly avoids eavesdropping on their chat but immediately becomes obsessed with figuring out what they were talking about. Given her burning curiosity, I found it a little hard to believe that she would be able to resist listening in and wonder if it might have made more sense for her to merely get home a few minutes later and come upon the end of the conversation when she walked in the door. Then again, it’s a mark of her respect for Regan that she thinks he is entitled to his privacy. Mostly.

What’s up with Regan? Trixie can’t figure it out, and it’s eating her. It’s not like him to be in such a state of agitation. Regan has a bigger role here than in any of the previous books, as does sage groundskeeper Mr. Maypenny. Both of them are tangled up in the matter of Dan Mangan, who not only is new to school but is working for the graying Mr. Maypenny. A tough talker who skulks about in a black jacket, he’s a loner with a Rebel Without a Cause vibe about him. When strange things – missing objects, mysterious injuries – begin to happen on the Wheeler grounds, he seems like the obvious culprit. But could there be more to the story?

This is an engrossing book that introduces a major new character and delves more deeply into the background of another. While Diana Lynch, the pretty nouveau riche girl who is a friend to Trixie and Honey, scarcely appears in the book at all – her only contributions are to furnish costumes for a winter show the Bob-Whites put on and to make eyes at Dan when he first shows up at school – the others have plenty to do. I especially like the way that Dan’s rough-and-tumble history moves Honey’s adopted brother Jim, who spent a short time living on the run and understands too well the pain of being unmoored.

For the second time in the series, this book finds the Bob-Whites working together for a noble cause, in this case replenishing the school library of their Mexican pen pals. Part of the plot involves the preparations for this outdoor event. Another recurring plot element is Bobby getting himself into some sort of potentially dangerous mischief, and his predicament in this book is truly harrowing and one of the most exciting action sequences in the series thus far. These story threads, in addition to the questions surrounding the behavior of Regan, Dan and Mr. Maypenny, make this eighth book a real page-turner and a promising indication that Campbell’s characters could thrive again under the pen of the right writer.

"Truly Blessed and Duly Grateful" - Bethesdalily's Gratitude Write-Off

I'm breaking in my brand-new laptop with a list of things I'm thankful for, as encouraged by Bethesdalily, whose write-off has caused bursts of blessings to blossom throughout Epinions like bright November flowers. It seems like a sure way to get this new piece of equipment off to a good start. I hope it lasts me as long as the first one, which I received for my 25th birthday, did. While I hated to retire that one, I can't help being grateful for the timing, as it finally went kaput just before Black Friday, allowing me to get the replacement at the most affordable time of the year. I'm grateful, too, that I had enough in the bank to cover it. But then, I have a lot to be grateful for, as I do every year. Big fan of quotes that I am, I thought it might be fun to compile a few gratitude quotes and use them as a jumping-off point for this very worthwhile exercise. So here we go...

“A thankful heart is a happy heart. I'm glad for what I have; that's an easy way to start.” Isn't it, though? This is a line from the VeggieTales video Madame Blueberry, the main song of which is a litany of gratitude concluding with, “That's why I say thanks every day.” I don't always remember to do that, but I should. I have friends who make it a point to regularly compile lists of things for which they're thankful, and it always brightens my day to read them and also to realize that I could list a lot of those same things. When things aren't going so well, give it a whirl, and I bet it will make you feel better. No matter how bad things get, there's always something to be grateful for.

“I guess I was raised never to question my blessings.” This is a line from Rose, the sage woman who is one of my favorite characters on LOST. I wish the show had used her more often; an extra dose of her serenity could have gone a long way in all that frenzy. Rose is all about acceptance. When life throws bad things her way, she bears it gracefully. And when something good comes along, she views it as a gift. Everything is a blessing or, at worst, a trial to be weathered with the help of those things and people that are blessings. It's a good way to look at life. And let me just take this opportunity to say that no 2010 gratitude reflection from me would be complete without mentioning LOST, a show that has provided me with so much intellectual and spiritual stimulation, that has deepened several friendships, that sparked the most intense creative period of my life and that gave me so many wonderful characters to fall in love with. LOST lost this fangirl money, but everything I gained far made up for the dent in my wallet.

“Thank you for this precious day, these gifts you give to me. My heart, so full of love for you, sings praise for all I see.” Isn't that a beautiful thought? It's from one of John Denver's loveliest songs, Falling Leaves, which uses this expansive gratitude as a jumping-off point for supplication on behalf of others. It's a song that discusses how wonderful the world can be but then acknowledges how many people in the world are disenfranchised. It makes me think of those St. Jude's Children's Hospital commercials: “Give thanks, and give...” If you truly have a grateful spirit, a natural outgrowth of that is to want to extend your blessings to those who could use a hand.

“Pick your diamond, pick your pearl, 'cause there is beauty in the world.” I just came upon this Macy Gray song within the last couple of months, as it's one that's in the regular rotation on the mall radio. Every time it comes on the air, I can't help grinning from ear to ear. It's just so life-affirming. I hear a lot about how much awful stuff is going on in the world today, and it just becomes very exhausting and dispiriting. This is a song that exuberantly encourages us to instead focus on the all that is right with the world. Each of us sees beauty in different things, but I think that everyone who takes the time to really look around can find something of beauty capable of brightening up the grayest day.

“For making me welcome, thank you.” This is the last line in the chorus of The Tinker, a gorgeous song by John Reynolds of the Irish Rovers. The speaker wanders from place to place, seeking shelter with strangers, and he always manages to find it. The kindness of others sustains him. It sustains all of us. We may not spend our lives as vagabonds, but how many times has your day been improved by a kind word or gesture from someone you randomly encounter? It happens to me all the time, and I hope that I've been on the other end of it, too. As a cashier at the mall, I try my best to treat every person I encounter with respect and friendliness. Sometimes folks just need someone to vent to, and I'm glad to be that person too. Any little thing I can do to make somebody's day a bit better, I try to do it; I know what a difference it makes when I'm on the receiving end, as I often am. You don't have to take someone into your home to be hospitable; just take them into your heart for a minute or two, and it can really have an impact.

“There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other.” This quote, from the first Harry Potter book, just makes me smile, and it's a great one for expressing the pleasure I've found in kindred spirits. When I was growing up, I often felt like an oddball. Epinions was one of the first sites I found after I really began immersing myself in the Internet, and I discovered that there are actually a lot of people out there who love the same things I do. This quote refers to a particularly powerful bonding experience, but I find that equally powerful is compatibility. As C. S. Lewis said, “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one.'” I'm grateful to Epinions for introducing me to friends with whom I share something important, whether that's a beloved book, a favorite style of music, an engrossing TV show, an entertaining movie... You get the idea. I'm glad Epinions has given me a platform to write about these things and has introduced me to wonderful friends who understand just where I'm coming from.

“I thank you for the kindness and the times when you got tough, and Papa, I don't think I've said 'I love you' near enough.” The late great Dan Fogelberg honored his father with Leader of the Band, one of my favorite songs ever and an exercise in gratitude if I ever heard one. Like him, I'm lucky enough to have wonderful parents, and I'm sure I don't tell them that often enough. As Abraham Lincoln said, “Everything I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” I can't imagine better parents than the ones I have. I owe them everything.

“Thank you for being a friend.” The Golden Girls has one of the best theme songs ever, and I'm happy to repeat it here. I have some pretty fantastic friends. Some have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember; some came along much later. Some of them I've never even met. If you got all of them together in one room, you'd have an eclectic mix indeed, but all of them have contributed greatly to my happiness. I'm grateful for Facebook, too, for helping me to keep in contact with many of them.

“I've got a hand holding my hand. It's not a hand you can see...” This is part of John Bucchino's Grateful, recorded by Art Garfunkel for his Across America concert in the 1990s. It's a beautiful song for Thanksgiving and the whole year, and I especially love this verse. It reminds me of several things. Footprints in the Sand. God's constant presence. Thestrals. J. K. Rowling's marvelous invention of creatures who perform an important service and can only be seen by those who have witnessed death. Harry initially sees them as grotesque, but they eventually serve as a reassurance that, as Dumbledore once told him, those who we've loved and lost never truly leave us. And Pushing Daisies. Ned and Charlotte love each other but can never touch. One of the many ways they come up with to cope is to hold their own hands at the same time, pretending they are holding each other's. A very sweet image for the ways that people separated by physical distance can stay connected.

“You are a very fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you, but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world, after all.” My all-time favorite quote, it reminds me that I should be open to amazing things happening and willing to help them come about, but I should approach them with an attitude of humility. I should be grateful for being a part of them instead of just figuring they happened because I myself did something remarkable to bring them about. I hope I'm a fine person, but I'll never forget that I am quite a little fellow in a wide world, after all. And, as Bilbo acknowledged, “Thank goodness.”

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part I Could Use a Little More Soul

The end of the Harry Potter film series draws near. Today, I am one movie closer to the conclusion, having just seen the seventh book in the theaters. I admit I raised an eyebrow when I found out that there would be eight Harry Potter movies; after all, seven is the most magically powerful number, and its symbolic significance in the series is immense. On the other hand, I liked the idea of having an extra movie to look forward to. But I should have taken it as an early indication that when it comes to really getting to the soul of the series, the moviemakers haven’t got it quite right.

I’ve been lenient with the Harry Potter movies so far, understanding that it’s a tricky business to pull off a faithful adaptation and that everyone will want to see something different. I went into this movie prepared to overlook some odd interpretive choices, but I wasn’t ready for the extent of the differences. While the movie, helmed by David Yates, is well-acted and often intense, I couldn’t help feeling as though the soul was largely sapped out of it. Some spoilers follow as I try to dissect what didn’t work for me, as well as what did.

Back when I watched the sixth movie, I was disappointed that my favorite line in the book - Dumbledore’s “I am not worried, Harry; I am with you” - didn’t make it into the film, and I feared that my favorite line in the seventh book would suffer a similar fate. Not only did we not hear Harry say, “I won’t blast people out of my way just because they’re there; that’s Voldemort’s job,” the moment that precipitated it was left out entirely. Instead of Harry being exposed to Voldemort through an act of mercy, it’s through the bravery of another character, who goes out in a blaze of sacrificial glory. I get that screenwriter Steve Kloves wanted to give this character a more dramatic exit, but the whole thing that made that death so shocking was that this was a bystander helplessly caught in the crossfire. The death in the book was symbolic of an end to Harry’s childhood and an indication of dark times to come, when many innocents would be callously slaughtered.

The movie sets that oppressive tone from the start, but for the most part, we see very little of the effect that Voldemort is having in the world at large. We are almost completely disconnected. There’s no Patronus that greets Harry and his friends with news when they take shelter in Sirius’s house. No tense visit from Remus Lupin, whose seeming indifference toward his family inspires such rage in Harry in the book. No bumping into Arthur Weasley at the Ministry of Magic. No overhearing Tonks’ dad, fellow student Dean Thomas and goblin Griphook in the forest. No recollection from Ron of his sojourn with his brother Bill and his new bride Fleur over Christmas. No secret Potter Watch broadcast. And no liberation of throngs of half-blood wizards at the Ministry of Magic, though at least we get a clear sense that Ron feels responsibility for the man whose form he is imitating and his family. Still, as isolated as Harry, Ron and Hermione are in the book, so much is stripped away here that we almost forget how intimately their mission is tied to the fate of the world.

Of the scenes in the first part of the book that I felt a strongest pull toward, few remained intact. Most were altered, sometimes subversively, while others were omitted entirely. No interaction at all between Dudley and Harry. No discovery of a long-ago letter from Harry’s mother in Sirius’s house. Harry shows up at the wedding of Bill and Fleur as himself; instead of Luna’s piercing gaze recognizing her disguised friend instantly, we have her tell her father to leave Harry alone because he really doesn’t want to talk to them right now but is too polite to say so. By the same token, the vibrant mural inside her house depicting her friends makes no appearance in the movie. Kreacher’s gripping tale loses all context and urgency, and we have no understanding of how deeply he cared for his master, how heinously Voldemort used him, how dramatically this bitter old servant changed in the face of Harry and Hermione’s empathy. Once they’ve escaped the Ministry, we don’t see Ron “fretting over the fate of the Cattermoles.” Voldemort’s confrontation with Grindelwald is presented in such a manner that we get no sense of remorse or wisdom from Dumbledore’s old nemesis; he merely comes across as crazed and easily relinquishes the information Voldemort seeks.

Of all the changes to the movie, I’m pretty sure the one that rankles the most with this Potterphile raised on Tolkien is the death of one particular sniveling follower of the Dark Lord. This character dies at the same time, in the same place, as in the book, but the circumstances disregard one of the most important payoffs in the series. In the book, this moment recalls the time in the third book when Dumbledore told Harry that he might one day be very glad that he spared this man’s life, much as Gandalf told Frodo not to bemoan Bilbo’s act of pity in sparing Gollum. A long-ago act of mercy has powerful ripples late in the game, yet another of the book’s pervasive reminders of Harry’s fundamental decency. But in the movie, he merely dies of a projectile to the back, and there’s no indication of a spark of gratitude or hesitation in the face of the boy who once stood up for him despite his deadly betrayal.

Along with all of these individual moments, there’s the fact that key plot points just don’t get very sufficient explanation. At the end of the movie, my mom, who hasn’t read the books, didn’t have a sense that Dumbledore was carrying a lot of skeletons around in his closet. She thought the bit of mirror we see Harry use to summon help was a piece of the Mirror of Erised from the first movie. She didn’t understand what the Hallows and Horcruxes had to do with each other. This last one seems especially egregious. Harry has no time whatsoever to reflect on his new knowledge of the Hallows; as soon as he finds out about them, he’s whisked off to his next crisis, so there’s no time for an obsession with them to fester and burrow into his spirit. In his final scene, there’s no sense of him making a conscious choice between pursuing the power represented by the Hallows and seeking the Horcruxes as instructed by Dumbledore. Maybe that will come in the eighth movie. But I’m not so sure.

None of this is to say that there was nothing enjoyable about the movie. Daniel Radcliffe was appropriately intense as Harry, and I was even more impressed with Emma Watson as vulnerable but mature Hermione. Of the trio, Rupert Grint impressed me most; he’s really come into his own in the last couple of movies, and after all his comedic hi-jinks in the sixth movie, he has a much darker road to travel here, spending a good portion of the movie surly and drained of all joy. Evanna Lynch is luminous in her later scenes that demonstrate Luna’s capacity for respect and kindness, and Tom Felton’s nearly wordless performance is effective in conveying how unsettled Draco Malfoy, Harry’s schoolyard enemy, is now that Voldemort is holding sway. Jason Isaacs, usually so silkily sneering as Draco’s father Lucius, is scarcely recognizable here, so haggard and haunted is his countenance.

Several new characters are briefly introduced, with Rhys Ifans making the biggest impression as Luna’s eccentric father Xenophilius. Also noteworthy is Andy Linden’s slimy Mundungus Fletcher and Guy Henry’s poised, poisonous Pius Thicknesse. I confess myself disappointed with Matyelok Gibbs’ portrayal of Auntie Muriel, though part of that is down to the screenplay - and the screenplay in general leaves a lot to be desired. She comes across as a gossipy old woman, but we get no sense of just how mean-spirited she is, and all the comedic aspects of her character vanish. Of course, much of that is tied in with the wedding ceremony itself, which we never get to see; we only get a small peek at the reception. I was also disappointed in our one glimpse of Neville; it’s meant to show us he’s got gumption, but instead he just comes across as foolhardy.

There were a few added scenes that I actually quite enjoyed. I liked the fact that one of the first things we see in the movie is Hermione at home, a sight never before afforded by the books or films, and we witness her Obliviation of her parents, erasing her presence from their memories. We hear about it in the book after the fact, but it’s powerful to see here, and it really establishes her emotional state, as well as her ability to put those emotions aside in service of her mission. I also thought the scene of her and Harry dancing together in a rare moment of unguarded giddiness was a nice addition, especially since the mood immediately turns somber afterward. Even more than that, I loved the little scene at Sirius’s house in which she tries to teach Ron how to play Fur Elise on the piano. Another great moment has George sauntering into the Weasley kitchen while Harry and Ginny share an enthusiastic kiss and observing them with a smirk. The cluelessness of the headphones-wearing waitress the trio encounter as they flee Death Eaters also made me smile. Moments like this may not have been in the book, but they felt authentic.

More iconic scenes were handled well too. The Seven Potters in the living room was warm and wonderful, a comic high point of the movie.  While I was annoyed at the implication that Harry, Ron and Hermione basically blundered into their Ministry break-in rather than carefully planning it for days, I thought most of that segment was handled well and certainly was action-packed.  The Christmas scene in the churchyard, with the singing of the choir drifting out from the church and the snow swirling 'round and Hermione comforting Harry and creating a wreath of flowers for his parents' grave, was quite moving, and I was pleasantly surprised to see the inscription on their gravestone intact, though most who hadn't read the book probably wouldn't have known what it said, as the stone is hard to read and neither Harry nor Hermione mentions it. 

The destruction of the locket Horcrux is a thrilling, albeit rather terrifying and steamy, sequence. The Tale of the Three Brothers slows down the movie, I suppose, but I enjoyed Watson’s narration of it, accompanied by eerie animation. This comes in the midst of the trio’s meeting with Xeno, one of the most intense scenes in the film.  Everything that happens from that point on is pretty riveting, but what I was most interested in was the final scene involving Harry and his friends. More than anything else, I was anxious to know whether this scene would come across properly. Although a few details changed, Kloves and Yates do it justice. It made me cry, no easy feat for the girl with the defective tear ducts. The beauty of the setting and Alexandre Desplat’s score in this scene contributed to the near-perfect ending - though I do find it odd that we’ve still been given no indication that I heard as to who owns this cottage that serves as such convenient refuge. The scene is still better in the book, but the movie version is almost as affecting.

A lot happens in this movie. It never felt to me like it dragged, which was a complaint I’ve heard from a couple of people; of course, I have always had a rather high tolerance for people wandering around in the woods in movies and books. What bothered me wasn’t the pacing; it was the priorities. Most of the things that seemed to me to be most important about the first portion of the seventh book don’t make it into the movie. Hence, while a lot of care went into Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part I and I still enjoyed the film for what it was, this dark adaptation that disregards most of the book’s most spiritually stimulating moments demonstrates more effectively than any of the others that the movies are no substitutes for the books.

Filking

I just love writing filksongs...

Harry Potter

J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter series is phenomenally popular, and with good reason.

J. K. Rowling's Careful Craftsmanship Encourages The Great Snape Debate

Back in 2007, I received a phone call from the bookstore where I had worked over the winter season. On the phone was one of my colleagues, excitedly informing me about a Borders exclusive book intended for precisely the sort of invested Harry Potter fan that she knew me to be. How could I say no to such an enthusiastic endorsement? I made my way over to the mall and purchased The Great Snape Debate, a book that lays out two opposing cases regarding Severus Snape, considered by many to be the most intriguing character in the series.

On one cover is The Case for Snape’s Innocence and the illustration of a fiery phoenix symbolizing his loyalty to Dumbledore. Flipping the book over led me to The Case for Snape’s Guilt, accompanied by a fearsome green snake symbolizing his allegiance to Lord Voldemort. The book came out mere months before the final installment of the trilogy, so its window of prime interest was limited, as evidenced by the fact it turned up in the bargain bin by the end of the year.

Nonetheless, for those who know Harry Potter only through the movies, there is room for speculation. Granted, most people who would be interested enough in Snape’s allegiances to read this book would have read the series itself by now, and some of the material covered in The Great Snape Debate does not apply to the movies, in which his presence is minimal. Still, with the final installments fast approaching, I thought this would be a good time to brush off this fun little guide. If nothing else, it’s a testament to how well J. K. Rowling constructed the character, and as such, it might be equally enjoyed by those who have already read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

For the most part, the two halves of the book mirror each other extremely well, with five complementary chapters in each. A lengthy sixth chapter entitled Who Is Snape?, written by acclaimed science fiction author Orson Scott Card, throws the balance in favor of the innocence section by about 30 pages, and I find it odd that no parallel chapter exists on the other side. While his speculations include the possibility that Snape’s intentions have been self-serving or malicious, he clearly sides with the notion that this surly headmaster will ultimately prove himself to be “one of the good guys.” This segment of the book is the most scholarly, and it also includes an intriguing comparison with Gollum, one of my favorite literary characters, as Card describes both of them as morally ambiguous characters who become much more central to the story than originally intended.

The first chapter in each half gives a general overview of reasons to believe that Snape is either malicious or benevolent, and each concludes with a rather snarky top ten list citing reasons that readers either love or hate him. Sprinkled throughout are random references to pop culture; for instance, the “love him” list mentions Mission: Impossible and Grey’s Anatomy, while the “hate him” list references America’s Next Top Model and Herbie: Fully Loaded. Mostly good for a chuckle, as well as a bit of eye-rolling. The first chapters themselves lay out fairly convincing cases for Snape’s innocence and guilt, using quotes from the book and Rowling, literary precedents and logical detective work.

The second chapters - Snape the Villain and Snape the Hero - continue the debate, discussing whether he is a more intriguing character as a villain or as a hero. These chapters, too, are loaded with nods to pop culture, several of which are totally irrelevant but good for a laugh. For instance, the villain chapter muses that Snape’s guilty pleasure is Dancing With the Stars. More pertinent is the hero chapter’s list of anti-heroes from literature, film and television, including Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre, Han Solo in Star Wars, Elphaba in Wicked and Kate Austen in LOST.

By the third chapters, which focus on Snape’s biographical details, I had grown quite tired of the incessant references to his “greying underpants” in the traumatic scene that Harry witnesses in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. The fixation strikes me as rather juvenile. Then again, the list of songs found on Snape’s iPod and the short essay on various anagrams of his name are pretty silly as well. More compelling is the textual evidence given on both sides suggesting the Snape has led either an underhanded or an upstanding life. For instance, the guilty side mentions his invention and implementation of the violent Sectumsempra spell, while the innocent side makes note of the fact that Hermione’s cat Crookshanks, whose half-Kneazle status renders him an especially good judge of character, goes ballistic at the sight of a traitor in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban but seems to have no objection to Snape.

The fourth chapters focus entirely on the movie career of Alan Rickman and cancel each other out, proving only that Rickman is an exceptionally talented actor who is equally adept at portraying heroes and villains. His magnificent portrayal of brooding Colonel Brandon in Sense and Sensibility is no more evidence of Snape’s sympathetic nature than his seething portrayal of the malevolent Sheriff of Nottingham in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves is evidence of Snape’s vice. However, there can be little doubt that despite his limited screen time, Rickman’s performance is a factor in the fascination with this character, so I didn’t mind the diversion much, especially since it gave me a decent idea which of Rickman’s movies I would be most interested in watching.

Finally, the last chapters have to do with Slytherin, the House of which Snape is the Head. The guilty side mentions the long-held associations between snakes and evil and notes the fact that very few Slytherins throughout the series are portrayed in a sympathetic manner. Meanwhile, the innocent side points out that the Slytherins’ key trait, ambition, can be a very positive thing, and it also discusses some Slytherins who seem to break the pattern, including vain but kind Horace Slughorn and sneering but helpful Phineas Nigellus Black. Also interesting is a sidebar questioning whether Snape has ever loved anyone.

The publication of this book, whose contributors include Amy Berner, Joyce Millman and the aforementioned Card, demonstrates that I was far from the only one deeply invested in the question of Severus Snape’s loyalties. A similar debate raged throughout LOST’s fan community in regard to Ben Linus, and I found myself applying some of the logic in this book to that character, whom I have often compared to Snape. J. K. Rowling’s series has inspired dozens of books of commentary. This one is nowhere near the most detailed or eye-opening, and at times it‘s just plain silly. However, for those who find this character as fascinating as I do, The Great Snape Debate is worth diving into.

Prepare to get LOST in Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland

As LOST winds to a close, I have found myself seeking comparisons with my favorite show in every movie that I watch. When it comes to Tim Burton’s vision of Alice in Wonderland, I hardly need to look. Indeed, it’s one of the reasons I was so interested in the movie, though I’ve always found various incarnations to be trippy to the point of being rather terrifying. Lewis Carroll’s classic story is indisputably one of LOST‘s key texts, having been referenced explicitly in two episode titles (White Rabbit and Through the Looking Glass) and multiple times within the show.

The very first image in the series is of heroic doctor Jack Shephard opening his eyes in the middle of the jungle. There exists the possibility that the series could end this way, with the implication that all six seasons have been a dream. While I will feel extremely cheated if this is the case, the heavy influence of Alice in Wonderland makes me nervous, especially when coupled with another key text, The Wizard of Oz, which happens to be the next movie Tim Burton is thinking of helming. While in the books, Oz is a real place, the iconic 1939 film implies that it’s just as much a dream as Wonderland is in the book.

In Burton’s film, it’s never entirely clear whether Wonderland is, in fact, a dream. We never see Alice fall asleep or wake up. But as in The Wizard of Oz, connections are drawn between several people from her everyday life and various characters she meets in Wonderland. Moreover, throughout her adventure, she repeatedly insists that she is in a dream. At one point, she and the Mad Hatter (Johnny Depp), who in this version is her most cherished Wonderland companion, share a conversation about the subject. She informs him that he is a figment of her imagination, and that only someone half-mad like her could have dreamed him up, which is strikingly similar to what Hurley tells Libby in Dave, the season two episode that either debunks an unpalatable theory or explains the series. “In real life,” Hurley says, “no girl like you would ever like me. Remember when I said I knew you from somewhere? Well, maybe it's because I made you up.”

Hurley is the character most associated with childlike innocence but also with mental instability. In season four, he theorizes that only he, Ben and John are able to see the elusive cabin in the jungle because they are the craziest. Could all of the bizarre happenings on the Island be the product of a deranged mind? The same question applies to Wonderland. Mia Wasikowska is luminous as Alice, a confused young woman who is overwhelmed by the world around her and the responsibilities being forced upon her. Easily distracted by her daydreams, she possesses an independent spirit unwelcome in her stuffy society.

Burton does his best to make the Wonderland to which she escapes look and sound as disorienting as possible. Depp, who is so adept at portraying vividly eccentric characters, embodies the insanity of this world as a man prone to lapsing into strings of incoherent psychobabble. And even when his tongue doesn’t run away with his mind, everything he says is as off-kilter as his voice, which is sometimes a guttural Scottish growl, sometimes a lisping whisper. Meanwhile, he repeatedly poses the query, “Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?”, a riddle which, like many of the mysteries on LOST, seems to have no solution.

On LOST, the first explicit reference to Alice in Wonderland comes when Jack pursues his deceased father through the jungle and John compares the specter to the White Rabbit (Michael Sheen). Alice, too, has lost her father, the one person in her life who understood her and regarded her “madness” as a mark of a superior mind. As she chases this strange creature, one might say that she, too, is seeking her father, or at least a connection with their shared sense of the fantastic.

Alice finds herself in a world ruled over by two queens of opposing dispositions. The Red Queen (Helena Bonham-Carter, one of four Harry Potter alums in the film) is an unstable tyrant prone to doling out violent punishments. Meanwhile the White Queen (Anne Hathaway), all grace and benevolence, resides in a kingdom reminiscent of Tolkien’s Elven haven Rivendell. She strives against her sister but is incapable of harming another, nor will she force anyone else to do so, although her desires are usually fairly evident. These white and red monarchs are much like the white and black figures controlling so many of the events on the Island, and when Alice explodes in frustration that ever since her arrival in Wonderland she has been told what to do and who to be, it sounds an awful lot like LOST‘s driving Fate vs Free Will debate.

Another recurring theme on the show has to do with characters on the Island crossing paths back in the everyday world. There’s a sense that even if there is a multiplicity of worlds, these particular people are destined to always be a part of one another’s lives. The first character to state this explicitly is conflicted torturer Sayid’s star-crossed love Nadia, but starting with the second season, the sentiment becomes the catchphrase of unanchored Scotsman Desmond. “See you in another life,” he says, time and again. In the movie, Absolem the Caterpillar (Alan Rickman), a creature inextricably linked with the notion of transformation, repeats this very phrase after explaining to Alice that she arrived as the “wrong Alice” but is now her proper self. Another driving theme in LOST involves flawed characters embracing the best of themselves as a result of many trials.

Of course, though I recommend it particularly to fans of the show, you don’t have to watch LOST to appreciate this movie. It offers a new twist on an old tale and does so with plenty of eye-popping spectacle. Though the 3-D elements seem less organic than in Avatar, they add to the fun, particularly whenever the March Hare (Paul Whitehouse) takes it into his head to lob a piece of dinnerware in the audience’s direction. The film often feels freakish, but as I remarked to my parents, any worthwhile adaptation of Alice in Wonderland is going to wind up looking a lot like an acid trip. It’s a strange, strange journey, but it’s one worth making, especially if you, like Alice and her father, have ever had the inclination to believe six impossible things before breakfast.

Stretch Your Owl's Wings With the Harry Potter Postcard Set

It’s been more than two years now since J. K. Rowling brought her Harry Potter series to a close, but my passion for the boy wizard and all of his friends has not dimmed. So I was delighted when my friends Erica and Art, who have not yet succumbed to the magic of Harry but know how thoroughly I have, presented me with two Harry Potter postcard sets for Christmas.

This particular set features Harry himself. It comes in an attractive box that contains a pack of 15 postcards and a small figurine of Harry ready to do battle. The cards are sturdy and about six inches in length and four inches high. Each depicts a full-color scene from one of the movies. While the sixth movie is not represented, the first five are.

Hence, there’s Harry as an adorable 11-year-old with his owl Hedwig on his arm; 12-year-old Harry dueling as ridiculous teacher Gilderoy Lockhart looks on; 13-year-old Harry soaring through the skies on Buckbeak the Hippogriff; 14-year-old Harry contemplating the mysteries of his dragon egg; and 15-year-old Harry gazing pensively ahead of him, burdened with too many responsibilities. It looks to me as though there are three stills from each of the first five movies, though some are harder to identify as they are close-up shots rather than iconic moments in the story.

On the back of each postcard, “Harry Potter” is in the top left-hand corner, written in the jagged font associated with the presentation of his name in the movie titles. There are lines on the right on which to write a person’s address, while the stamp spot has a picture of a flying owl. Of course, since these won’t really be sent by owl post, an actual stamp will be required, but there’s enough room that affixing the stamp next to the faux stamp really isn’t a problem.

The Harry figure is about two inches in height and stands on a rocky base. I would say he’s modeled after Harry in the fifth movie; his hair is short and neat, and he’s looking pretty grown up. He’s dressed all in black, with a white collar and red tie barely visible. His stance is one of readiness, and his wand is outstretched. For the tiny size of the figure, it’s very recognizable as Harry.

Similarly, my Dumbledore figure is about two and a half inches high, and he stands in attack position, though he seems to have already launched an offensive, judging by the ferocious look on his face. He’s dressed in flowing blue robes trimmed with silver, and his white hair whips around him as though in a breeze. He also stands on a base, but his looks like stone-patterned tile and is less textured. Meanwhile, his postcards follow the same basic pattern as Harry’s, though they are definitely skewed more toward later movies, with only one featuring Richard Harris. Everything else is Michael Gambon.

There are five other sets in this series, and collector that I am, I’m tempted to pick up a couple of them, particularly Hagrid, as I’ve always had a huge soft spot for the burly half-giant gamekeeper. The rest are Hermione, Ron, Voldemort and - rather curiously, since he’s only been in one movie so far - Dobby the House Elf. The fact that I’ve never seen them in stores may slow my impulses, though they’re not too hard to come by online. We’ll see. But for now, I have 30 postcards to admire and probably send to fellow Potter-loving friends eventually. If only I could get an owl to deliver them for me...

Camilla Cream Learns to Be Herself in A Bad Case of Stripes

Luna Lovegood, who first appeared in the Harry Potter series in the fifth book, is one of my favorite fictional characters. She’s completely eccentric, and she has no shame in expressing her individuality. That’s not to say that she goes around knocking the “normal” kids all the time. No, she just happens to be a girl who is very comfortable with who she is, and for those who are willing to risk losing face by seeking her company, she offers not only loyal friendship but a sense of validation for whatever their own quirks might be.

Camilla Cream, the conflicted young protagonist of David Shannon’s A Bad Case of Stripes, sadly lacks Luna’s self-assurance. Like so many other children of a certain age, she is desperate to fit in, which leads to her denying her own tastes and interests. Trying so intently to mold herself into the sort of person who will appeal to all of her classmates at once only immobilizes her, leaving her frozen in indecision and soon afflicted with a disease that reflects her mindset.

The books begins, “Camilla Cream loved lima beans.” As lima beans are one of the top foods stereotypically viewed unfavorably, this is a striking statement. It seems a little strange. And Camilla, all in a tizzy over what to wear her first day of the school year, does not want to seem strange, not even a little bit. So she hides her love of lima beans from her legume-despising classmates, just as she hides anything else that might make her different. And then she wakes up and finds herself a rainbow-colored spectacle.

In this book, Shannon weaves a simple but clever cautionary tale. When Camilla, after staying home from school to allow time for a doctor to examine her mysterious dermatological condition, heads back to class, she finds herself a chameleon of sorts, changing colors and patterns at the slightest suggestion from other students. Deemed a distraction and confined to her home, she feels helpless as her condition worsens, exacerbated by the efforts of any number of alleged experts. It takes a simple dose of common sense from a kindly old woman to let her really understand the problem and see what might cure it.

The story is written in an appealing, accessible manner, but it’s the paintings that so vibrantly demonstrate her predicament. On one page, she lies in bed, forlorn, sucking on a thermometer as her skin gleams all the colors of the rainbow. On another, as befuddled doctors in white suits poke and prod her, one can just make out her expression of consternation amidst all the odd multi-colored patterns that now cover her. When the bizarre ailment reaches its most nefarious phase, she is scarcely recognizable, gazing sadly at the television report of the mayhem outside her house as branches and tentacles sprout from her skin.

Camilla Cream could seriously use a Luna in her life, and she does find a role model in the self-expression game, albeit one who’s had many decades of practice. Shannon’s fable has a valuable lesson for all who would seek to hide behind conformity. It comes highly recommended, especially for school libraries and classrooms where new cases of stripes that are not quite so transparent are popping up all the time.

Around Epinions in 80 Days: Amazon is the River of Dreams

I’ve been a really active Internet user for about a decade, but I did venture online now and then in the few years before that. One of the first sites I recall visiting was Amazon.com. I was in search of The Keeper, a children’s album by former Irish Rover Will Millar, whose title track he had sung at a concert in Erie before he left the band. I found the CD, and with a very reasonable price tag, too. It was the first of many purchases I would make there.

My most memorable Amazon experience dates back to 2000. My mom was shopping for a Father’s Day present for my grandpa, and we noticed that there was a promotion running that offered free shipping on orders over $25. That has since become standard on Amazon, both a blessing and a curse, as it pretty much guarantees that unless I’m buying something used (in which case the special rate doesn’t apply) I will find a way to spend at least $25 there. Mom had found a couple of things, but it still came in at under $25. Then we recalled that Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire would be coming out that summer. So we pre-ordered that, because of course I would be buying it anyway. Except we kinda forgot that the order was going directly to Grandpa. So he got his Father’s Day presents, and shortly thereafter, the hefty new Harry Potter landed on his doorstep. And though I’d been so ahead of the game, it was a month before we made it to York for a visit, at which point I felt like the last person on the planet to have read the fourth installment. Lesson learned: Don’t order stuff for yourself when it’s going to somebody else!

In the years since, I’ve probably plunked down a thousand dollars on Amazon. It’s certainly not difficult to spend money there, since just about any movie, book or CD you could possibly want is available through the site, especially if you don’t mind buying it second-hand. There are other things as well; I’ve bought action figures, vending machine toys and other such indulgences, not to mention a microphone. It’s rare that I’ve spent full price for something there, and music seems to be especially cost-effective. For instance, I’ve pre-ordered Celtic Thunder’s upcoming CD and DVD It‘s Entertainment; the list price for the two combined is $39, but on Amazon I’m only paying $24.

In all my years buying from Amazon, I can’t recall having any negative experiences. On the rare occasion that I’ve received something that was damaged, I was able to return it quickly and painlessly. I’ve occasionally received Amazon gift cards, and I had no trouble using them. The one thing I haven’t been able to do is get an Amazon credit card, which is rather a shame since I buy more from them than any other retailer, but given my aversion to credit cards in general, I guess I can’t fault them for viewing my lack of credit experience as a liability. I generally use my debit card on Amazon, which works fine, and with Visa Extras I’m still able to get a little reward for my dollars spent; in fact, I have a $25 Amazon gift card headed my way right now.

One aspect of Amazon that is both helpful and maddening is the feature that shows you similar items that might be of interest. The trouble is that these items usually are of interest, and goodness knows I don’t need any more temptation. Still, I’ve discovered some great stuff through Amazon that way. If you’re a media lover, this is an indispensable website, and if you time your purchases so that you buy several things at once, you can avoid shipping costs and make the reasonable prices even more palatable. For a bookworm and audiophile like me, Amazon is the river of dreams.