2011/07/18 § 2 Comments
I can’t make myself face the final Harry Potter-film.
I cry just thinking about it. I am not joking. I am crying right now. Thinking that this is the end makes me feel seriously alone and scared. I know some people joke about post-Potter depression. I don’t think it’s a joke. It feels very fucking real. And I have not even seen it.
The first Harry Potter book came to Norway in 1999. I was 8. I remember quoting Snape’s speech to my friends. I knew it by heart. It showed me how books could let me enter dreamworlds, other lives and destinies. I never stopped reading after I started the Philosopher’s Stone.
Harry Potter was the reason I learned English. One day when I was thirteen I decided that I needed to know this language just so that I could read the Potter books in their original form. That changed my life. My Christmas grade in English was a weak 4 (weak C/ D?) before I made this decision, and that summer I got an A (6). I am moving to England in September, after having attended international school, all due to my love of the English language. My life path was changed by a stupid book.
This is how much the books mean to people.
Whenever I felt like I shouldn’t bother with school, or not be kind to other people, or righteous, or brave, I could look towards the series and find inspiration and wisdom to guide me. It helped me through my teenage years. It made me who I am today. Sure, I might have been not so nerdy, more normal, like the others, more interested in social activities and less interested in books, magic and other such wonderful things today if I had steered away from those books. But I like myself much more than I like most people anyway. Every night staying in, every date I missed and party I skipped to read the books, talk about the world with my fellow friends, watch the films and dream, every single night and day of Potter was worth it.
The series taught me important lessons of life, bravery, death, friendship, loyalty, struggle, corruption, equality, righteousness, perfection (or the lack thereof), choices, and perhaps most importantly, how nobody is purely good or purely evil. It showed me how I should live right by living according to my own mindset, whilst showing me that it was okay if I, occasionally, made mistakes.
I grew up with the kids at Hogwarts. When I was 16, I finished the last book in one long night of obsessive reading at Crete, the only break I had was the hour I cried after Snape died. The following day I just slept. This time, at 20, however, it is over. For good. And I can’t force myself to finish. As long as I don’t go to see it, it’s not true. It’s not over. Not yet.
Thank you, Rowling, for making such a wonderful, wonderful world. And a big fuck you (with just a tad bit of sarcasm) for letting it end. I love you too fucking much.
I know I should learn from the books to move on and live life even after something ends. Fuck, that is probably one of the main themes of the books. “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live”. Well, Dumbledore, screw that. I remember you giving Harry some time alone after Sirius’s death. This is like my best friends through 12 years died, or decided to cut off all contact and never ever speak to me again. Leave me to grieve the fuck alone.
</rant> (And sorry for the cursing. Really.)