anticipay-shon (in Cajun man voice)
I don't know about you, but I've been a nervous wreck this week. Part of it is because I've crammed too much into July (HP5 on my birthday, teaching 3 sunday school classes, setting up for a huge art project and teaching at a camp, going to 2 concerts--twilight sad and the white stripes, NYC for a few days, and packing for california) but I know if I'm completely honest it's mostly because I am so excited about the last Harry Potter book. Excited might not be strong enough a word for it, and it sounds too positive. Worried is closer to the truth. Harry Potter has followed me through all of my post-college years, and so many of my own rites of passage, it's hard to imagine what it will be like without that speculation, when the narrative closes down and no more will be said. Like when Buffy went off the air, only a great deal more poignant.
Stephen King has said it all much better than I could, in this truly perfect Entertainment Weekly article. Don't worry, no spoilers (unlike the NYT, who for some unaccountable reason, decided to publish a review of the book today. Makes me think of NBC's tasteless airing of the insane diatribes of Cho, the Va Tech shooter. Don't you guys get it? Just because you can, doesn't mean you should.). Who in their right minds would want to spoil ten years of suspense reading some dumb critic's reaction to a book you'll read a day later?
I know several people (D included) who will be fasting from the internet, the news, and from outside human contact until they can finish the book. I thought I was pretty safe until Friday, but now I am not so sure. There will always be a jerk somewhere who is willing to risk getting clobbered for blabbing. In my case, sometimes the culprit is a student, which was likely the closest I ever came to punching a ten-year-old in the face. She, perhaps, didn't know any better, but it was a terrible day, learning every sad, major plot point of the book and knowing, as I read, the inevitable end of the story.
Friday night, at midnight, at the Red Canoe, the last chapter will begin. Accio, HP7!
Stephen King has said it all much better than I could, in this truly perfect Entertainment Weekly article. Don't worry, no spoilers (unlike the NYT, who for some unaccountable reason, decided to publish a review of the book today. Makes me think of NBC's tasteless airing of the insane diatribes of Cho, the Va Tech shooter. Don't you guys get it? Just because you can, doesn't mean you should.). Who in their right minds would want to spoil ten years of suspense reading some dumb critic's reaction to a book you'll read a day later?
I know several people (D included) who will be fasting from the internet, the news, and from outside human contact until they can finish the book. I thought I was pretty safe until Friday, but now I am not so sure. There will always be a jerk somewhere who is willing to risk getting clobbered for blabbing. In my case, sometimes the culprit is a student, which was likely the closest I ever came to punching a ten-year-old in the face. She, perhaps, didn't know any better, but it was a terrible day, learning every sad, major plot point of the book and knowing, as I read, the inevitable end of the story.
Friday night, at midnight, at the Red Canoe, the last chapter will begin. Accio, HP7!
1 Comments:
Saturday morning I awoke to the sound of the FedEx truck plunking my copy of HP7 on my doorstep. It surely made my weekend. I'm only on chapter 15 or so, but I too will be sad when it's all over, no matter what the outcome. I hate it when good books are over.
Miss you bunches, MK!
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