Book Thirty: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

As much as it pains me to say this, I've under appreciated this volume of J.K. Rowling's much beloved series.  It's never been a favorite of mine mainly because of the incessant whining that our dear Harry seems to do.  The child whines about everything from losing Quidditch privileges to being ignored by Dumbledore to Occulmency lessons by Professor Snape.  Sure, Harry, I get it.... it's tough to be you.  But damn, boy!  Don't you know we're at war here?!

I've always thought Rowling tried too hard with this tome.  Developing too many characters and not well enough.  Professor and High Inquisitor Dolorous Umbrage is the clear winner here.  Firenze was a solid contender.  Grawp, however, was not.  He felt forced as if Hagrid just needed to be out of the way for a bit.

What I fell in love with more this read around is Dumbledore's Army.  Neville Longbottom, the long suffering herbologist.  Luna Lovegood, the loveable oddball.  Seamus and Lee Jordan, I love them all a little bit more this time around--particularly Neville.  He is clumsy and introverted when we first meet him.  Here, Neville, becomes an integral part of D.A. and parlays those skills into legend.

My Sweet Niece admitted today that the book can be scary at parts.  It's interesting to hear those comments.  I, too, think the Order of the Phoenix takes on a much more serious tone.  Young readers examine love and loss here.  Rowling is straightforward.  And when Harry confronts Professor Dumbledore, Rowling allows us to rail in anger and frustration alongside Harry.  Dumbledore's ability to humbly accept his punishment, if you will, is all the more frustrating.  This time, though, I was struck by how Rowling allows Dumbledore to mirror Harry's feelings and to address them without trivializing them.  Don't we all wish for validation of our hopes, dreams, and fears?


As I see it, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is, at it's core, a beautiful tale of life and maturation. Hidden among this fantasy of good and evil, are honest life lessons that wizards and Muggles alike can take to heart.

Book Twenty-Nine: The Engagements

This written tapestry of stories begins with an introduction to copy writer Mary Francis Gerety.  The hastily scrawled 'A Diamond is Forever' became the slogan of DeBeers, forever altering an industry and creating a timeless legacy.

Author J. Courtney Sullivan has written a fictionalized story of Gerety, but the book's primary focus is the human relationship and how iconic the diamond has become.  Evelyn has been married to her husband for forty years after the death of her first husband.  Kate, while partnered with Dan for nearly a decade refuses to have wedding.  Delphine leaves her husband to follow a one-night stand.  Blue-collar James constantly worries that his wife can do and will do better than him. 

With the diamond securely anchoring each story, it's clear that these relationships are about more than just the carats.  Evelyn is dealing with the crushing blow of her son's impending divorce.  Delphine wonders if desire is enough to build a life upon.  James wonders if he's one step away from losing her.  Kate is disgusted by the institution of marriage but is somehow hoodwinked into being responsible for the symbolic rings of her cousin Jeff's marriage to his partner Toby.  Each story has clearly been affected by the legendary campaign spearheaded by Gerety. 

This reader found herself wanting more about Mary Frances and her fierce independence during a time of little for woman.  Sullivan barely skims the surface of what made Mary Frances tick.  The five narratives are solidly written.  Delphine, a woman scorned, is perhaps the strongest story with the most clearly defined characters.  This reader wonders if Kate's diatribe is truly that of the author's. 

The primary annoyance for this reader is how choppy the book is put together.  The narratives are fleshed out in parts.  Sullivan presents enough information to build to a climax and then the commercial interruption appears--in this case, more about Gerety.  Highly annoying.

As I see it, The Engagements is unsure of itself.  Is it a feminist manifesto?  A stump speech against consumerism?  Or a parlor trick hoping to ride the Mad Men bandwagon?  In the end, dear reader, you have a nicely written--albeit forgettable--collection of stories.

Book Twenty-Eight: Haunting Mr. Darcy

Mr. Darcy has been determined to rid himself of Elizabeth Bennett since meeting her in Hertfordshire.  When an overturned carriage on New Year's Eve results in her spirit being inexplicably tethered to him, Fitzwilliam believes the specter is surely proof of his madness.

This little Kindle gem of fan fiction from author KaraLynne Mackrory brings new meaning to a 'spirited courtship.'  As the two learn of how their pride and prejudice has torn them asunder, Darcy and Elizabeth must work together to master fickle fate.  The author strikes a beautiful chord with characters without feeling contrived.  Despite the cheesy premise--I mean, do we really need Lizzy to be a poltergeist?!--Mackrory manages to weave a story that is Regency romance without modern day smut.

This book bewitched me.  So often, you don't find fan fiction that is worthy of praise.  Mackrory stayed true to her source material and the myriad of characters.  I was pleasantly surprised how she relies on Georgianna and Colonel Fitzwilliam to advance the story.  Her treatment of Mr. Bennett was exceptional.  He's always been a character I wanted more from.  His tender but honest dialogue with Jane is exactly what I'd expect from the patriarch.  Speaking of dialogue, I take umbrage with the author's use of 'Seriously?'  Seriously?!  The megrims fell upon me when Col. Fitzwilliam used this one word reply.  It was just SO out of place in the dialogue, it was disgusting.

As I see it, Haunting Mr. Darcy is a beautiful vagary for fans of Austen.  The author recognizes her readers intelligence and honors it.  Don't let my one grievance prevent you from picking up this delightful read.