Sunday, August 2, 2009

What Do You Mean It's Just Fiction? or On Losing a Mentor

(Talking about Harry Potter. Yes, there's a spoiler, but it's been four years, read the book already!)

During my internship four years ago, one of the classes I taught was a senior AP Lit class that only had fifteen students. It was the kind of class I always dreamed about teaching one day, and I secretly felt sad whenever the bell rang. That spring I had just finished reading the Harry Potter series for the first time, and the sixth book was about to come out that summer. My AP Lit class, made up of supremely awesome, nerdy book-lovers, would discuss all things Harry Potter during the last five minutes of class each day. We shared theories, favorite moments, and predictions. At some point that semester, I commented that I wanted to one day be a teacher just like Dumbledore: wise, compassionate, and loved.

The last day of my internship also happened to be my 22nd birthday. The students came in with goofy grins and whispers. I walked over to the desks to see what was going on, and they all shouted out, “Happy birthday!” I looked down to see a big cookie cake with the words Happy Birthday Professor Dumbledore! written in thick, gooey icing. Truly, my fellow Harry Potter fans, my bright and kind students, had given me one of the best compliments of my lifetime. I only wish I would have had a camera to capture it.

When the sixth book came out, I was a newly-wed and we were about to move across the country. I finished the book one afternoon while Matt was at work. When he came home, he found me curled up in our bed sobbing. We should all know the horrific event that led me to totally lose my shit and go into mourning. (Okay fine, for those of you that didn’t read the series, sigh: Dumbledore dies.) Matt reacted as any new husband might: utterly and totally freaked out. I don’t quite remember how he handled the situation, but my guess is that it probably involved Chili’s.

So the reason why it took us two weeks to see the sixth Harry Potter should not be surprising. While everyone else seemed excited, I felt nervous and apprehensive. We finally went and saw it this weekend. And once again, HOLY HELL, LOST MY SHIT ALL OVER THE PLACE, BIG TIME, CRAZY GIRL COMING THROUGH. It was bad enough to read it, but to see it on screen? Unbearable heartache. And unfortunately for me, the movie theater was on the fourth floor of the mall, which made it especially awkward to walk through with my mascara-streaked face and swollen eyes.

So here’s my review for the movie: yes, it was good, but don’t ever make me watch it again.