Though it’s rather late given how long ago the book was released, I am nonetheless going to offer my review of the last Harry Potter book, and, in a broader sense, on the series as a whole. There will be no spoilers for those still thinking of reading it. I’ll stick more to general observations about the strengths and weaknesses of the series, and about its suitability as reading for children. I will begin by making the following admissions:

1. I have read all seven Harry Potter books.
2. I did, in fact, purchase the seventh book on the night it was released (but at Kroger, not at one of those big bookstore parties).
3. I read it all within the next few days.

Just so it’s understood, I don’t have Harry Potter wallpaper, I don’t participate in Harry Potter fan forums, and I’m not stalking JK Rowling. In short, I’m not a fanatic, but I did enjoy the books. I began reading them several years ago, before the series had reached iconic status. On a Christmas break during my college years, my mother asked me to take over the nightly read-aloud with my youngest brother (thirteen years younger than myself.) He was reading the first Harry Potter book. I’ve always loved children’s books (my favorite form of light reading when I need a break from philosophy), and I found that one charming. At that time only two had been written, but I kept up with the series as the subsequent books were released. By the fourth one, of course, “Have you heard of the Harry Potter books?” was a stupid question.

Evaluated as children’s literature, it is my considered opinion that this series is very good. It does not deserve to be compared to such epic literature as JRR Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings series (which isn’t children’s literature anyway) but I think it’s the best children’s fantasy series to come along in quite a number of years. The plots are interesting, the characters are engaging, and the stories are filled with memorable, imaginative details that make them endlessly fun to read. It is true that some suspension of disbelief is needed in order to enjoy them. On a deeper level, not everything in them makes sense; for example, one gets the feeling that many magical spells or objects are invented in an ad hoc way as the story goes along, and it’s pretty hard to see how the wizard world and the Muggle world could continue to co-exist without the latter’s knowledge. Also, Rowling’s morals are not exactly subtle, and she makes free use of grossly stereotyped characters. In that sense, her stories read like comedy or satire. But again, I think it must be remembered that these are children’s books, and so it isn’t necessarily bad to make them more imaginative than logical, and more readable than nuanced. In an exterior way, the plots do hold together, which is no mean feat given their many twists and turns.

In some ways, it is difficult to review the series as a whole, because the tone changes so dramatically from the beginning to the end. The light humor of the first books never vanishes entirely, but as the books get steadily darker and more serious, we see more and more that the humor serves as a tonic to make bearable the great suffering that Rowling means to inflict upon her child characters. After three happy endings, the rug is pulled from under our feet as the next three end in death and sorrow. I won’t say too much about the final ending, except to say that there are significant elements of each. But on the whole, this last book especially is a dark and heavy tale. The series is reflective of our times in at least this sense: it is a story of children trying to make sense of a world that has been shattered by sin and betrayal. Harry Potter’s family was violently torn apart in his infancy. He spends the rest of the series trying to recapture or replace some of that lost peace and security, but he never fully succeeds, and we see him relive that same pain of loss again, and again, and again as more people are snatched away from him. And although the children certainly fight for their lives on many occasions, Rowling makes it clear that life is not the only thing at stake. They are fighting to maintain something of goodness and rightness, in a rapidly degenerating society whose moral paragons have sometimes turned out to be false. In that sense, this is truly a modern tale. A Robert Louis Stevenson or a Beatrix Potter could not have written it. More even than Robinson Crusoe, these characters are truly fighting to survive in a hostile world.

Having said all that, I have to admit that there is a bit of a problem in determining the age at which children might appropriately be encouraged to read the Harry Potter books. As many others have pointed out, the books mature with the characters. The first (in which the main characters are eleven years old) is short, cute, and never too serious. The last, as I have said, is considerably more grave, reflecting the increased maturity of the now seventeen-year-old characters. On one level this is an impressive literary accomplishment, but the upshot is that the first books will probably seem childish to a 13-year-old, while the last really would not be appropriate reading for a 7-year-old. The problem did not arise for the present generation of young people, because the books were released only gradually as they themselves grew up. But it would be difficult to persuade the next generation to space them out at similar intervals; after finishing one book they will naturally want to get the next one right away. This is a potential problem.

However, if read at an appropriate age, I do not buy into the oft-heard complaint that Rowling’s books are evil and likely to encourage interest in wicca, satanic literature, or the occult. I can see how they might, superficially, seem suspect. After all, the story features ordinary western children discovering that they have magical powers, and being brought to a school of witchcraft and wizardry to be taught spells and incantations. At least in the beginning, young readers are likely to envy Harry for his wizardly fame and his magical powers, and parents might reasonably suppose that that envy would encourage them in unhealthy fascinations with dangerous things. If parents have this very natural concern, I would encourage them to read the books for themselves and draw their own conclusions. But for my part, I do not think the danger very great, and it grows, if anything, less troubling as the series proceeds.

The very early chapters of the first book make some hay from the bare appeal of children learning magic, but this gradually fades into a mere backdrop against which other plot twists take shape. The magic becomes more and more law-like, just a taken-for-granted part of Harry Potter’s reality– and the moral lines between use and abuse of magical powers become much more clear-cut as things develop. By the end you’re barely thinking about the magic per se; it is a part of Rowling’s created world, but not necessarily an appealing part. And this leads into the second point: children are less and less likely to envy Harry Potter as the story unfolds. Some children may identify with him (too many nowadays, I’m afraid), but it becomes increasingly obvious that Harry has been dealt an exceedingly difficult hand in life. Children with equally difficult family lives may find some solace in Harry’s ability to survive his many harsh trials. (He is never absolved from responsibility for misdeeds on the argument that he had an unhappy childhood… even though he obviously did. The past doesn’t go away, but the demands of the present and future must be answered.) Luckier children, on the other hand, will be led to reflect on their good fortune, because the books are strongly and unambiguously pro-family. The death of Harry’s parents is the great tragedy that overshadows the entire series, and the most admirable and wholesome corner of the wizarding world is seen in the Weasleys, a large and very traditional family containing seven children, a responsible working father, and a warm and very maternal stay-at-home mom. Rowling both begins and ends the series with reminders of the power of parental love. And the conclusion of the last book emphasizes once again that the formation of stable families is the key to the peace and security that the characters crave throughout.

The last two books are particularly important for gaging the series’ suitability for Catholic kids, because they show the completion of the characters’ moral formation. I have to admit that I was pretty lukewarm on the book’s moral trajectory in the earlier books. Although loyalty, self-sacrifice, and taking responsibility for one’s actions were always recognizable themes, the leading moral issue seemed to be the condemnation of unjust discrimination. While not exactly pernicious per se, this is an anodyne, cliche lesson in our particular times — and one that’s often used by liberals to substitute for a real moral agenda. I saw it mainly as a distraction from an otherwise engaging story. The last two books impressed me, though. The anti-discrimination theme never totally disappears, but it becomes subordinate to a much more compelling moral struggle. We see in the final books that Voldemort and his Death Eaters are, in fact, consuming death in an almost literal way. I won’t spoil the story, but the important thing is that they (and especially Voldemort himself) are buying themselves power and immortality, but at a very heavy price: their souls are deeply scarred and deformed in the process. Throughout the series, Harry has also been attracted to power and fame, and most likely his young readers have felt some sympathy with this craving. Now, in the later stages, they are forced to consider what is most important. Much of these last two books plays out as an illustration of the passage, “What profiteth it a man if he should gain the whole world and lose his own soul?”

Rowling never quotes that passage, but she does bring Scripture to her aid in other places. The most memorable chapter of the seventh book is the one in which Harry, together with his friend Hermione, finally visits his parents’ graves on what turns out to be Christmas Eve. (What with the terror and worry of their never-ending flight, they don’t even notice this until they arrive and hear the singing of carols wafting from the local church. The contrast between their forlornness and the warm carol-filled church is heartbreaking.) There in the cemetery they read two important messages, each engraved upon tombstones. One reminds us that, “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” And then, on the graves of Harry’s parents, we find the inscription, “The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.” Both, obviously, come from Scripture, and the latter comes from 1 Corinthians 15. Here St. Paul is looking ahead to the second coming, when Our Lord will conquer both sin and death forevermore. Death, he reminds us, will not have the last word, but it is through love and self-sacrifice that the path of life is finally reached. The applicability to Harry’s situation is obvious, and very moving in light of his many sorrows and hardships. Complaints of moral ambiguity were understandable in the beginning of the series, but by the end the choice has become pretty stark.

I should stress again that I don’t take this series to be Great Literature properly speaking. It doesn’t have the subtlety and richness of a true classic, and it contains no moral lessons that Tolkien, for example, doesn’t develop in a fuller and more beautiful way. But I think that Rowling has well acquitted herself of the charge of peddling evil arts to children. And I think she has justified, as well as anyone could reasonably have expected, the undying love of so many millions. Her earlier books are charming, and the later ones do not disappoint. (As a note, I think the fifth book of the series is the weakest, and needed to be more stringently edited. Fortunately the later two are major improvements.) The important thing to understand is that it is not, first and foremost, a story about magic. It is a story about people fighting to preserve love and truth in a society that is falling to pieces.

Every generation needs its stories of struggle a