Harry Potter and “Diversity”

I used to be a pretty big Harry Potter fan until the books really started getting popular.* Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoyed the books and movies, and the books did inspire some of my writing, but I never got as involved in the fandom as many others in my age group.

What bothers me most about the Harry Potter fandom is the push for “diversity” among the characters, or the laments by some fans about the lack of “diversity” in the characters or situations. A few years ago, J.K. Rowling announced that Albus Dumbledore was gay. My reaction was, “So what? Who cares? Why are we talking about this now, after the books have been published?” Albus Dumbledore’s sexuality doesn’t take away from my enjoyment of the series at all. In a similar vein, we heard that Hermione Granger could have been black, because she was described in the book as having frizzy hair. Her skin color was never mentioned. Also, J.K. Rowling has said that Hogwarts was home to Jewish and LGBTQ students, although there’s not much (if any) mention of them in the books.

Honestly, I’m not sure why all this diversity stuff matters, especially in a book series that’s already been published and read by millions. I paid no attention it when I read the books when I was in middle and high school. I doubt it would have mattered to me if Hermione was black or if there were LGBTQ students. I wouldn’t have thought any differently about the series. So why is J.K. Rowling trying to go back and insert “diversity”? Can we not just enjoy the series for a spectacular plot and well-developed characters, not to mention that it got a whole generation of reluctant readers to actually pick up a book, rather than pick it apart because it’s all of a sudden not “diverse” enough?

I hate reading J.K. Rowling’s Twitter account because I strongly disagree with most of her social and political views, and it bothers me that those views have such importance and hold such weight in the minds of some of her fans. But that doesn’t make me dislike her books. Same with Stephen King—I love his books and always will, but his Twitter account and political views infuriate me and make me want to wring his neck. Sometimes his views and opinions influence his books, and sometimes they don’t. A good author can write from perspectives other than his own and pull it off well. It seems to me that Rowling and King do this… so what is the problem?

It is hard to avoid progressivism and “diversity” in the New York City publishing world, but I fail to see the point of picking apart already-published books just to make sure that they are conforming to the trend of the day, which is to make sure everybody and everything is “included,” lest we “offend” someone. New books with “diverse” characters are being published every day, especially those geared toward young adult audiences. Maybe someday in the near future, we will have another wildly popular series like Harry Potter but much more representative of all kinds of people. Until then, let’s wait patiently and not overanalyze a beloved series.

*I’m kind of weird because I tend to dislike things that are extremely popular (for no real reason other than that they are popular), so the more popular Harry Potter got, the more apathetic about it I became.

Aftermath of Lent

This year for Lent, I gave up music as I usually do. I also gave up excessive Internet use, which was fairly easy because I’ve been so disgusted with almost everything online these days. I also picked an unusual goal: giving up complaining, because I realized that I complain almost all the time about almost everything,* even if it’s not really a serious gripe.

I failed miserably.

As a matter of fact, I think I complained even more during Lent than I usually do outside of Lent. Or maybe I just grew more aware of how much I complained when I was actively trying to reduce the amount of complaining.

Even though it’s the Easter season now and I can technically start complaining again, I’m still trying to quit. What I learned about the whole matter is that I have to actively try to think positive. Find the humor in something that went wrong. Instead of complaining, find something to be grateful for. It’s OK if something’s not perfect or doesn’t go my way. Even my personal journal tends to be a bunch of bitchery and self-pitying melodrama, so I have been trying to write about positive things only, or put a positive spin on what I perceive to be negative things. At first, it felt unnatural, like I wasn’t being realistic or honest with myself, or like I was trying to be a happy, bubbly, super-enthusiastic person who’s all “Happy Monday!” and uses fifty million exclamation points at the end of every sentence.

Later on, the happiness started to sink in and my journal felt less fake. I remembered the old mantra that goes something like “You may not be able to control the situation, but you can control your reaction to it.” So I have tried to react more positively to things, or at least not immediately launch into Bitch Mode™. The most helpful thing has been to actively put in place what I should have learned in elementary school: If you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all. (Or at least wait until you’re calm to say something. Don’t just say the first impulsive thing that comes into your head.)

Anyway, here’s to an Easter season full of happiness!!!! (Ugh, I still hate multiple exclamation points.) 🙂

*Maybe it’s an inherited thing. Or a New York thing. I’m not really sure. Doesn’t matter where it came from; all that matters is that it needs to be stopped.

Books vs. Movies vs. Video Games

Reading fiction is constantly portrayed as a Really Good Thing™. Books engage your brain by forcing you to create the images for yourself in your own mind and interpret the deeper meaning behind the author’s words. Books are supposed to make you live longer because they keep your brain working. (If that’s true, then I’ll probably live forever.)

But is reading fiction better or more worthwhile than other modern forms of entertainment, like watching movies and playing video games? When I read fiction, I do it to relax and get lost in a story. (Sometimes I do it to study the author’s technique.) I don’t necessarily read fiction to give myself an intellectual workout or ponder the meaning of life, unless the book lends itself to those kinds of themes and ponders those questions. I don’t actively seek to deeply study the fiction I read.

It would seem like watching movies is more or less the same. Most people don’t watch movies to study them. They just want to relax and be entertained. Movies are supposedly more passive than books because you’re not envisioning the events yourself—it’s all right there for you on the screen. But I suppose that when you’re watching a movie, you’re doing the same as you would with a book: trying to anticipate what the characters will do next and possibly trying to analyze characters’ true motives or some deeper meaning.

Video games get the worst rap out of any form of entertainment. They are seen as complete garbage because many of them involve gratuitous violence, and they can suck you in for hours at a time. A movie lasts for 2 or 3 hours at the very most. A book lasts anywhere from 2 to 8 (or even more) hours, depending on how long the book is and how quickly you read. A video game can last for months, depending on the depth of the adventure, the number of side quests, and how long it takes you to figure out the game’s mechanics. Some video game veterans can beat complex games overnight, but for the most part (from what I’ve experienced), you can sink hundreds of hours into certain video games and not really have gained anything that is useful outside of the game world. Do video games cause you to ponder the workings of the universe? For me, no.

Many argue that because video games are games, they keep your mind working because you’re trying to figure out the rules of the game, develop a strategy, and complete the quest. Games teach problem-solving skills, but do they do that in the same way a book or movie does? A book or movie wraps up the problem neatly at the end (in the best case), but a video game leaves that responsibility to the gamer. You are in charge of your own destiny in a video game, so perhaps video games are more valuable than they seem.

I suppose it all depends on what kinds of books you read, games you play, or movies you watch. A deep fiction book like something by Faulkner is obviously more valuable than Grand Theft Auto V. A thought-provoking movie like Inception is more worthwhile than one of those cheap regency romance novels, and a video game like Myst or a similar strategy game is superior to a movie like Fifty Shades Freed. I would argue that any movie or video game is better than any book supposedly written by a reality TV star. But “better” or “more worthwhile” even depends on the particular person reading the book: a certain person may get deeper meaning out of Doom than from Love in the Time of Cholera, and the video game may honestly be a better use of time for that person.

Books will always be my favorite. I get so little out of movies and video games most of the time—I guess I’m not really a “visual” person in that sense. But that doesn’t mean that books are inherently superior. What do you think?