Friday, October 30, 2015

The Narrator

If I were to hear a narrator's voice in my head, I don't think I'd be surprised at all. I've read too many stories where that happened to really be surprised or even upset. This is why I never will hear the narrator's voice in my head-- it really wouldn't make for an interesting story if I wasn't confused or acting strangely, and nobody wants to narrate something that isn't interesting. There's no point in it.

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

If you haven't read or seen Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows all the way through, don't read this. Spoilers!!!

I've just finished re- watching Harry Potter and the Half- Blood Prince. Even though I've seen it at least once before, and read the book cover- to- cover twice (not to mention the multiple times I've re- read the ending) it still gets me. Dumbledore's death, Snape's supposed betrayal, and the truth behind it all... it's amazing how things that I understand are still hard to get over. I find myself in tears once again over the sheer emotion contained in those last few minutes and chapters. Even though I know how it ends, even though I know that we see Dumbledore again and that I can always go back to when he was alive by reading the previous books or chapters, it still hurts. I find myself wondering what I would do in Harry's position, if it was me under the invisibility cloak and the full body- bind curse. I don't know for sure, but I can imagine.

The most surprising thing is why I'm feeling what I am. It's not just the loss of Dumbledore, it's also the grief of the other people. It's the actions they take, and the reasons behind those actions. It's understanding the meaning behind the "revulsion and hatred etched on the harsh lines of his face". Hatred of the one who could not save Lily Evans, the one who had asked of him this great task, on top of so many others, who had sanctioned, protected, and admired James Potter's son. All of it penetrates deep into my mind and heart. Though the character written in the books differs slightly from the one portrayed on the screen, I feel that the movies' portrayal of Snape is honestly my favorite of the two (though in all other respects I greatly favor the books). [Edit: ...aaand Alan Rickman's dead. Well, there goes one life goal/desperate hope down the drain; scratch "Meet Alan Rickman" off my bucket list.]

Amazing how the grief that comes from losing a loved one stays with us for so long, and remains so sharp after the initial shock of it. Even if this grief is not of a person, but a feeling, a time, a place, an object, a memory, an ability... a future. Several months ago, I lost a dear cat who had been with me for a very long time. Even though I have long accepted the fact of her death, I still have moments where I wish for nothing more than to see her again. Longer ago, even, than that, I moved away from the place I had considered "home" my entire life. While I miss that part of my past greatly, it is the future that I had hoped for, known, and wanted that is the most painful to remember. The illusions of our childhoods that slowly strip themselves away, month by month and day by day, until there is nothing left but our bare, naked selves... those cause the most pain of all. I do not yet know what it must be like to watch the one you have loved your whole life slowly change allegiances and affections to one whom you hate above all others. I do not know what it is like to see them disappear from the bright, happy future I had hoped for and enter a heaven of their own that excludes me. I do not know what it is like to do all I can, even dropping to my knees and begging for help from one who could kill me in an instant, to protect someone and have it all for nothing... to know that they are dead, needlessly, by the hand of the one whom I follow. I do not know what it is like to watch their son, the very image of the parent whom I'd hated so much, grow up before my eyes and feel obligated to protect them. I do not know... but I can imagine. I can sympathize, and more importantly, empathize. I, who do not even know what romantic love truly is. And if it hurts me this way, so deeply I can barely stand it, what must it be to truly experience this?

And if I can empathize this way, why can't everyone else? I am nobody. Nobody important, nobody anyone would have heard of. It's not my job to empathize, or to try and fix the world's problems. I will never be called upon to lead a country, or a religion, or a people. Nobody outside of this blog will even know I have these emotions. So if I can do it, why is the world the mess that it is today? So many people in the world are broken. They are weighed down by pain and hardship, and they cry out for help that never comes. But there are others, who do not even know the injury they have done themselves. They have ripped their souls, like Voldemort, into so many pieces that they are unrecognizable monsters, and yet the greatest harm they have done is to themselves.

"Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and above all, those who live without love."