Harry Potter and The Sorcerer’s Stone — J.K. Rowling
There is really no point in hating a highly publicized and crowd-pleasing book when it is indeed good. What is there to hate?
J.K. Rowling delves us toward a maelstrom of enchanting thaumaturgy and wonders of a stupendous world apart from our own. Not only did she captivate millions of juvenile audiences with her first Harry Potter book, but also adults, and those who warrant hating it merely as a pretense. Hankering to possess such magical talents and being a part of that world is perchance one of the most sought-after dream of a multitude of Potter fans.
Simply scribbled on a piece of tissue to begin with, this book created a worldwide phenomenon, turning Rowling the richest writer in the world. A paradigmatic rags to riches story, eh?
She definitely deserves the entire accolade she has earned.
The Story. As a result of his parents’ death, Harry Potter has to dwell among the Dursleys—with his Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and his rascal, bully of a cousin Dudley. Life has been very mean to him (and the Dursleys, of course) but there is something odd about him. During times of immense fury, he can do unnatural things that even he himself could not explain. His Aunt Petunia kept cutting his long, messy hair off but grows back suddenly in a matter of time. What is wrong with Harry? On the day of his 11th birthday, an owl came to deliver a letter for him. So, owls are mailmen now? Eventually, he discovers that he has magical roots and that he is, (gasp!) a WIZARD!
It is a certainty that Harry Potter will never become one of those ephemeral novels—highly marketed and utterly famous one day; the next day effete, forgotten. “The boy who lived,” beyond doubt, is feasibly the most recognized fictional figure ever created. Who would not look up to Harry’s greatness? Who would not want to be in the company of his friends? Who would shun the idea of being a witch or wizard? Who would refuse to study magic in Hogwarts?
The world-building that Rowling fabricated, though not convincingly original, was cleverly done—seemingly concocted on a cauldron, with rightfully added herbs and spices, topped with a rather rare ingredient, and then mixed into perfection.
The characters were engendered to impinge upon the imagination of readers. They have their individual quirks and flaws, ever so slightly piercing into every reader’s heart. There were numerous of characters that became my favorites—Ron, Hermione, Neville, Fred, George, Hagrid, Dumbledore, McGonagall—to name a few. Even the antagonists have a certain place in my heart—Draco, for instance. How could a story so good wouldn’t get any better with interesting villains? And then there’s Lord Voldemort, the dead sure evil one. Whoever didn’t foresee Quirrel possessed by Lord Voldemort—I am with you, darlings. I swear, I thought it was Snape all along.
‘As Tadpole said, “This book is for every kid who got picked last for kickball,” which is basically true (even if you’ve never played kickball or weren’t literally picked last). It’s for all of us who feel like they don’t fit in, who have felt lonely or unhappy as a child and wished for a magical school, or garden or attic or Mary Poppins to visit or a friend like Miss Bianca. It’s one of those eternal feelings, in some ways, that those with enough empathy can still draw on, and find the enchantment of it all again.’