Okay. I read the whole thing. Here’s what I think:
This essay is more about justifying the use of magic in Tolkien and Lewis than it is about Harry Potter. It could have a subtitle: “I’m Christian and I deplore magic, so how do I square that with my love of Tolkien?” It suffers as well from a partial reading of HP, as I don’t believe all the books were published at the time this was written. Its conclusions (parents decide, could be safe, could not be) result more from a mis-understanding of how literature works than how magic “works”, and a mis-understanding of the job of the reader to think about what he is reading.
The author makes a lot of hay out of his seven “hedges” in Tolkien and Lewis. Let’s take a look at them:
Tolkien and Lewis confine the pursuit of magic as a safe and lawful occupation to wholly imaginary realms…
Who doesn’t look at the Shire and see an idealized English landscape, with hobbits as imaginary idyllic Englishmen (“Second breakfast” is as real as it gets.). Also, Potterworld is emphatically not “our” world (no story is really “our” world). Even the most realistic literature can never make this claim. Consider the “sound of a string breaking” stage direction in Chekhov’s Cherry Orchard – it reminds the viewer that literature is not reality.
…Harry Potter lives in a world in which magic is a secret, hidden reality acknowledged openly only among a magical elite…
Everyone that matters to the story in Harry Potters’ world is aware of magic except the muggles, who really contribute little. The basic trope in HP is to imagine if magic were an everyday subject, such that you would have to go to school to learn it. Rowling has made magic so commonplace it needs a bureaucracy to manage it. Magical folk in Potter are far from being “elite”, by the way, as proven by how confounded they are by things like the telephone or automobiles. Characters have magic in Potter simply by accident of birth, and magic people in Potter are good, bad, simple and brilliant, rich and poor.
Tolkien and Lewis confine the pursuit of magic as a safe and lawful occupation to characters who are numbered among the supporting cast, not the protagonists…
Well, the Lion (Aslan) got title billing alongside the Witch. I guess Gandalf is a supporting cast member, along with Elrond and others, but the “Lord” in LOTR is not good guy. And Aragorn did make the title in Return of the King. I don’t think being a title character has a lot of significance here. Having a magic-free protagonist makes a difference? Okay, what happens if we apply that to something like Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (which Tolkien translated).
…Tolkien and Lewis include cautionary threads in which exposure to magical forces proves to be a corrupting influence on their protagonists…the practice of magic is Harry Potter’s salvation from his horrible relatives and from virtually every adversity he must overcome.
Actually, Harry’s “salvation” is very much akin to the “old” or “deep” magic that allows Aslan to triumph over the witch in LWW. I fear that at the time this critique was written, the reviewer had not read all seven volumes. Also, in Rowling’s work, magic is part of the “physics” of the story.
Tolkien and Lewis confine the pursuit of magic as a safe and lawful occupation to characters who are not in fact human beings.
Just reading LOTR doesn’t give enough indication as to what Gandalf and Sarumin are and a reader would not immediately distinguish them from men. Rowling doesn’t have nearly the depth of theory behind how magic works in her world that Tolkien does.
…Tolkien and Lewis emphasize the pursuit of magic as the safe and lawful occupation of characters who, in appearance, stature, behavior, and role, embody a certain wizard archetype — white-haired old men with beards and robes and staffs…
What kind of archetype, pray tell, is Tom Bombadil? (If one is upset by magic, how do you feel about Pan?) What kind of magic does he employ? Tolkien doesn’t fit in to this neat box.
…Tolkien and Lewis devote no narrative space to the process by which their magical specialists acquire their magical prowess…
Yes, Rowling does this in the form of a running joke. Imagine if wizards didn’t just drop fully-formed into the story, but, like everything else in human experience had to learn their craft? At a school? With quizzes and homework? She riffs on this theme for seven very long books. This ultimately is what the anti-Potter critiques really miss: Rowling is a mile wide and an inch deep, and the point of much of what she writes is humor. If presented the choice between presenting a coherent, well thought out theory of literary magic, or making a joke, Rowling instinctively heads for the joke.