I am a (very) sporadic diary/record/idea keeper, and the things I write often take the form of notes scribbled on the backs of envelopes or random drafts scattered around my hard drive. This file popped up as I was searching for something else, and I had fun revisiting my first thoughts about Harry Potter. Let’s hear it for the power of magic imagination:)
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March 15, 2000
A few days ago I started reading the Harry Potter books. Started by a single mother in a café on the back of a napkin, these books are the biggest thing since the Lord of the Rings, and written for the same audience – children and their parents. While the author description emphasizes Rowling’s financial need, I would bet that she was also in need of a creative outlet. How often have I done something similar, just to spend time in a world of my own making?
Reading these books, I’m reminded of the value of such stories. Tales of good versus evil are what kids need to frame their worlds, but adults need very much to be reminded of the difference as well, perhaps more so. They make me remember reading at night with my family, breathlessly listening for the fate of hobbits in their battle against a seemingly invincible foe. This, despite the fact that we’d all read the series many times before. Or the way we watched Star Wars (the original, thank you) over and over again on a black and white screen, until the tape wore out. We knew the words by heart, but the story never failed to inspire.
Books for adults often present complex situations and ideas in worlds painted an uncertain grey. But for me, what Harry Potter and others like him give us may be more useful in the end – challenges, yes, but also humor, a sense of wonder and triumph, and in the end, the understanding that lines need to be drawn against evil, and that we can all work towards good.
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J.R. Johnson 
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