My Critiquing Opinionatedness: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Book)

(Plot)

Intent on continuing what he and Albus Dumbledore started before the great wizard's untimely demise, Harry Potter must now embark on a journey to search for the remaining Horcruxes. Together with his best friends, the insecure Ron Weasley and the Muggle-born Hermione Granger, they face countless dangers and upheavals along the way.

Unaware of the mysterious whereabouts of their supposed light of hope, the wizarding world is unrelentingly terrorized by Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters, as they take over the Ministry of Magic, all the while subjecting all suspected non-pureblood wizards and witches to genocide. Right on top of their list of priorities is the capture of Undesirable No. 1, Harry, and it seems as though they keep on successfully thwarting our heroes' search for the Horcruxes.

Meanwhile, tensions mount high and the friendship of the three is conflicted by deep-rooted issues. To make matters worse, Harry is plagued by visions of the Dark Lord in his own quest for "something". He worries that whatever Voldemort is looking for has something to do with the items Dumbledore has left behind for our heroes, and that whatever this "something" might be is even bigger than the Horcruxes.

Will Harry and his friends successfully get the job done in time to prevent Voldemort's final rise to power over all of the magical realm?

(Review)

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows was inconceivably amazing! Completely action-packed from the get-go, J.K. Rowling's 7th installment to what has now become an international phenomenon surpassed all of my expectations. While I have always respected her as a creatively gifted writer, I have felt that Rowling's writing skills had somewhat deteriorated since the emergence of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Deathly Hallows definitely redeemed her name, in my opinion.

But this book isn't entirely without fault. Some parts just didn't add up; like how Harry miraculously knew what the next Horcrux was after Regulus' locket, when it was quite adamantly expressed that they had absolutely no leads to go on with for months.Or their sudden ability to use the unforgivable curses was a bit of much, considering they are unforgivable curses and therefore seems rather hard to administer. Or what the actual purpose of the Deathly Hallows was. It was never really explained what would actually happen when the three items are brought together (which, by the way, they never do in the book), aside from the cryptic message that whoever possesses all three Hallows shall be “Master of Death”. I also felt that the "final explanation to everything" wasn't explosive enough, as much as it is rather vague. And plot-wise, I actually thought that certain premises were a little too familiar.

However, despite everything this book failed to deliver, it is as "monumental" as Michiko Kakutani, of The New York Times, said it was. And I will say this: Deathly Hallows will be one expensive hell of a movie. And I mean it with all my love and support when I say that I really hope the leading movie cast doesn’t butcher this one up with their brand of bad acting. No offense, but they really do need to take more lessons, especially Daniel Radcliffe. But if they manage to pull this one off, and if they probably re-hire the genius Alfonso Cuaron to take on the directorial post, this just might well be the best Potter flick of the entire lot.

Deathly Hallows truly is a superlative culmination to the incredible journey of Harry Potter. Really, Rowling outdid herself with this one. In my "good books", Harry Potter is no longer just a children's novel. It's an epic.

And yes, this book really does make you want to cry a little. Harry Potter will truly, truly be missed...

***
Quotables:

"Parked all right, then?" Ron asked Harry. "I did. Hermione didn't believe I could pass a muggle driving test, did you? She thought I'd have to Confund the examiner."

"No, I didn't," said Hermione, " I had complete faith in you."

"As a matter of fact, I did Confund him," Ron whispered to Harry, as together they lifted Albus' trunk and owl onto the train. "I only forgot to look in the wing mirror, and let's face it, I can use a Suspensory Charm for that."

Back on the platform, they found Lily and Hugo, Rose's younger brother, having an animated discussion about which House they would be sorted into when they finally get into Hogwarts.

"If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disown you," said Ron, "but no pressure."

"Ron!"

Lily and Hugo laughed, but Albus and Rose looked solemn.

"He doesn't mean it," said Hermione and Ginny, but Ron was no longer paying attention. Catching Harry's eye, he nodded covertly to a point some fifty yards away. The steam had thinned for a moment, and three people stood in sharp relief against the shifting mist.

"Look who it is."

Draco Malfoy was standing there with his wife and son, a dark coat buttoned up to his throat. His hair was receding somewhat, which emphasized the pointed chin. The new boy resembled Draco as much as Albus resembled Harry. Draco caugt sight of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny staring at him, nodded curtly, and turned away again.

"So that's little Scorpius," said Ron under his breath. "make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."

"Ron, for heaven's sake," said Hermione, half stern, half amused. "Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!"

"You're right, sorry," said Ron, but unable to help himself, he added. "Don't get too friendly with him, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood."

***

Like Life, The Dream Is Always More Spectacular

As early as the sixth grade, I've had deja vus. Sometimes, I'd find myself remembering dreams I had in the past of events that are just happening right then. It's totally useless of course, since I can't sense when something's about to happen, just know for myself that I've seen it before in a dream. Sometimes, my dreams would be so lucid that my dream-self would realize that he's inside my dream, and snap me back to consciousness, as if forbidding me to see the dream's proceedings. It's these last fleeting glimpses that get emblazoned in the deep recesses of my memory, and the scenes which I remember when the deja vu kicks in in real life. Sometimes the memory would be in black and white, sometimes in full color. But either way, I'd remember things the way I saw it in my dream. The distance between myself and my surroundings, the position and placement of various things and people, the colors, the smells, the sounds, it's really a visceral experience. Sometimes I'd even remember how I woke up from the dream. It's actually why I get bothered about some dreams. When I can't find a means of symbolism to it, it usually turns out to be a deja vu dream. And when it happens in real life, and I remember that I've dreamt about it in the past, that's the only time it makes sense. Like this dream I had back in the sixth grade. I was standing relatively in the middle of this huge place, with ornate walls from floor to ceiling. There were flickering lights and echoing sounds everywhere. It looked to me like a golden theatre or something, a place I know for a fact that I've never been to. It wasn't until we went to visit this church in Ilocos back in college, that it just came to me and finally made sense.

I don't know if this could be considered a gift, but I do know that it's nothing major, and that everybody has them every once in a while. And I certainly don't claim to have "the sight". It's not a "third eye". I don't see ghosts, I can't read people's minds, or move things telekinetically. But sometimes you can't help but wonder if there's a divine connection between these things and the Cosmos or whatever. One thing is for sure, though. Like life, the dream is always more spectacular.

Dream vs. Nightmare

For an entire week in February of this year, I dreamt about dead people. It was the week after I felt like I was surrounded by a lot of deaths. Well, just three actually. But I'm not particularly fond of deaths, so to find out that people were dropping dead every other day was a little disturbing. First there was my college classmate's friend who died of an aneurysm. Then there was my colleague's mother who died of a heart illness. Finally, there was my mom's colleague's mother who just died.

Anyway, in the dreams, I would find myself in an unknown land, where people hail from different races, and are speaking foreign tongues. Surprisingly enough, I had xenoglassy (the paranormal phenomena of being able to speak, write, and understand different languages fluently, without ever studying them). In the dreams, it would be as if I was normally carrying on with a normal life like the foreign people. But all of a sudden I would get this dark sense of foreboding, and my instincts would single out a person from the crowd. I'd stare at him long and hard. Then without even telling myself to do it, I'd find myself telling the person, "You're already dead. You just don't know it yet." The person would then erupt in a fit of rage, as he denies this simple fact which only I, or at least my dream-self, seem able to know. And that's it. I'd wake up. It's very Ghost Whisperer, don't you think? But the weird thing is, I'd always wake up with a jerking start, gasping for air, and always at three in the morning. When it happened a second time, I started keeping a diary. For one week I would dream of a different encounter with a different person. And of course, it bothered me. It bothered me a lot. What did it all mean? Why was I the one telling these random people they're dead? And more importantly, what was the significance of waking up at three in the morning?

The day it started, I never told anyone. I mean, what would I possibly say? They'd just think I'm crazy... But I guess I couldn't help myself, and after a week, I told two people about it. One merely agreed with me that it was really freaky, then told me to check out this Robert De Niro movie, Hide and Seek. I never did. The other one simply got scared, and told me to pray profusely. I think maybe she thought I was dealing with the devil or something. I also decided to post my situation in this psychic forum I found online. I got a total of one reply, from this lady who apparently had similar experiences in the past. She told me that my psychic eye was opening or something, and that those spirits were somehow drawn to me. I asked for her to elaborate, but never got a reply afterwards. I assumed she was just looking for a chance to talk about herself and brag about her self-proclaimed abilities. Regardless of the lack of resolution I got, I slept peacefully that night. It would seem that after I've talked about it, "it" stopped haunting me. I brushed it off for nothing, and I haven't had a Ghost Whisperer episode since. I no longer see dead people, in my dreams or otherwise.

Then one day, while standing in line at an SSS office with my friend, the topic came about. The minute I mentioned "3:00 AM", she interrupted me and told me that in the movie The Exorcism of Emily Rose, they said that 3:00 AM is when the devil is at his most powerful...

:/

***

Quotable quote, not necessarily related to this post, but noteworthy nonetheless:

"If it makes you feel any better, I can assure you. Over time, it gets worse." - Val Tyler (What I Like About You)