Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (the Movie)

On Sunday morning my husband and I were standing outside in the bright summer sun, waiting for the movie theater to open. We weren't the only moviegoers up early on a weekend morning in eager anticipation of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

Opinions on the quality of the Harry Potter movies swing from ecstatic to sarcastic, as fans of the books are either swept up in the magic of seeing their fantasy world come to life, or bitterly disappointed by the differences between the movie and the book. My first thought on emerging from the dark theater back into the blazing afternoon sun, was that the Half Blood Prince was a particularly good adaptation of the book into movie format.

Simply by using the word adaptation, we are accepting the fact that the content of the book must undergo some alteration, some screenwriting metamorphosis that allows the moviegoer to share approximately the same experience as the reader enjoying the book. In early films we saw screenwriting that attempted to scrupulously preserve plot points and world building details. In later films, we saw mad efforts at condensing huge, sprawling story lines into one film, that usually resulted in awkward, hectic pacing. It is already common knowledge that the seventh film will be broken into two parts, to avoid giving the audience the sense that they are simply skimming over, or reviewing major plot points of the book, instead of enjoying a movie. Given that, I wasn't sure what to expect from the pacing and enjoyability of the Half-Blood Prince.

In my opinion the screenwriters did a brilliant job of capturing the emotional journey of the story's characters. By loosening their grip on exacting loyalty to the plot, they were able to focus on character growth and development. The movie skipped important plot points, added a major scene that wasn't in the book, and changed around the order of events- but the result was a beautifully-paced movie, in which I felt I could sit back and follow the characters as they adventured and interacted. The movie version of the book was like an impressionist painting of the book- leaving me with the same feeling that I had reading the book- even if the film was a slightly fuzzy Monet instead of a crisp, digital photograph of what I had read. The ending of the movie, which I can imagine disappointed some viewers, nevertheless produced exactly the same sentiment I had upon the conclusion of re-reading the Half-Blood Prince for the second time: that this had just been our last year at Hogwarts, and hadn't it been a lovely place to grow, to be together, and enjoy.

I think fans of the characters in the book- people who read because they love Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the dozens of other touching and memorable characters that populate Rowling's world- will have a great time watching the movie, despite (and of course because of) the plot changes.

Roan Stallion

I am considered the member of our household least likely to appreciate reading or writing poetry. I find the position rather ironic, as the first thing I ever wrote was a poem, and throughout most of my childhood and adolescence I wrote far more poetry than fiction. A few hot, summer nights ago, we sat down to read the icy, Christmas-time poem, "Roan Stallion," from a book of selected poems by Robinson Jeffers.

The poem is a beautiful epic. Its heroine, California, embodies her dual heritage (and the poet's love of the West Coast) with only her evocative name. Although the poem was written in 1925, California's quest is so easy for the modern reader to grasp. I loved the scene in which she gathers her daughter's Christmas toys to keep them from getting wet (perhaps because, if I'd been in her place, I, too, would have been more worried about the gifts than drowning or freezing). The mystical scene which follows this is a vivid mix of naturalism and Christian mythology, again reflecting California's dual heritage. And the end of the poem was a strong union of spirituality and animal nature, in which California once more embodies two different natures.

The experience of reading "Roan Stallion" has me wondering our small town, composing impromptu poems on the voice recorder of my iPhone. Fortunately no one has come after me with a straitjacket, yet

The Neil Gaiman Audio Collection

I just finished a delightful audio collection of children's short stories written and narrated by Neil Gaiman. The collection includes three short stories: "The Wolves in the Walls," "Cinnamon," and "On The Day I Swapped My Dad for Two Goldfish." It ends with a poem called "Crazy Hair" and a darling interview with Gaiman conducted by his young daughter. During the interview Gaiman discusses his then upcoming project, The Graveyard Book.

Two of the short stories are prime examples of Gaiman's talent in creating a magical, fairy tale atmosphere using children with modern attitudes who live in modern homes with modern parents. "Cinnamon" is a more exotic fairy tale, in which a young woman comes to terms with her blossoming womanhood through the intervention of a tiger.

The Audio Collection was released in August 2004. It is currently #41,448 in Books on Amazon.