The role of knowledge and ignorance in HP (was: Abstemiousness with truth)

[Porphyria]

No: HPFGUIDX 43465

I'd like to defend Darkthirty's interesting (and difficult!) essay on the 
role of truth and fantasy in Harry Potter. The following is my own riff; 
it is inspired by post #43358 and the downstream commentary, but I admit I 
might be rerouting the discussion from what Darkthirty had in mind. If I 
misrepresent the original argument, I apologize! But I think my points 
will be clearer for everyone if I just start fresh instead of making a 
point-by-point reply to the original post.

I think by now Darkthirty has made clear that this analysis does not posit 
that "the books are all Harry's fantasy." Rather, what I understand from 
this theory is that the role of knowledge in the books is constricted in 
such a way that it supports a reading that there is something particularly 
self-contained, nearly solipcistic about Harry, and that the world of the 
books is extremely walled off from the real world. Eileen has argued 
(#43446) that all fairy tale, and in fact all fiction partakes of some 
elements of fantasy and suspended belief on the part of the reader. As she 
makes clear, the point of reading fantasy is to find the expression of 
real values. Ideal values, yes, but the inner truth of the heart. I agree 
but would like to counter that, from what I understand of Darkthirty's 
reading, the HP books have a particular aversion towards knowledge that 
merits some analysis. Specifically, within these narratives, the 
usefulness of knowledge must cede, must fail, to make room for the 
supremacy of will power, love, loyalty and other qualities internal to the 
hero -- feelings that would sustain an abused boy but still preserve his 
protective fantasy. The heroism, the plot resolution of the books does not 
hinge on Harry's relationship to the outside, objective world, but rather 
to his emotional relationship to other people and himself.

My own observations follow on the role of knowledge and ignorance in HP. 
This theme is even more complicated than I'm making it sound, but this is 
what I've come up with for a start:

1. Hermione, who isn't a Ravenclaw

There was some discussion recently about why Hermione isn't sorted into 
Ravenclaw. I thought Hermione herself was very clear on the point from 
what she tells Harry in PS/SS when he argues that he's not as good a 
wizard as she:

"Books! And cleverness! There are more important things -- friendship and 
bravery and -- oh Harry -- be careful!"

To me this is a very clear-cut statement of her own values, her own ideal 
qualities. Yes, she has what it takes to be in Ravenclaw, but friendship 
and bravery are what she actually believes in, what she strives for her in 
herself. I also see this remark as an authorial one: the books quite 
clearly show feeling to be better, in the end, than thinking. Typically, 
Hermione's books smarts are very valuable to Harry, but there is a sense 
that they fail at the last point; they are great, but second best.

For instance, in PS/SS, her knowledge of Devil's Snare and her logic in 
tackling the potions challenge enables Harry to make it to the end of the 
obstacles. But she panics in the first case, her nerve temporarily 
scuttling her knowledge. In the seconds case, the narrative makes it 
physically, iconically clear that *Hemione's logic will enable Harry to 
pass to the next level, but she herself must at that point cede the heroic 
function to him.* It's his story after all. And he eventually perseveres 
over Quirrell because of a) his innocence, his lack of possessive desire 
for the Stone, b) his mother's love and protection, c) his relationship 
with Dumbledore. Nothing that Harry has read in a book helps him at the 
very end, only his inner nature, his relationships, his emotions.

This is even clearer in CoS wherein Hermione figures out the clue to the 
mystery, she figures out that the monster is a basilisk and she figures 
out even how to protect against it. She saves Penelope's life. But she's 
also knocked out of commission by a narrative determined to limit her 
usefulness. In the end Harry must confront the Riddle and the monster 
alone, and what saves him is very explicitly his expressed loyalty to 
Dumbledore. Fawkes and the Hat save him, along with his own courage and 
strength of will.

Again, in PoA, Hemione is the one who *knows* all about the Time Turner. 
She knows how to physically operate it and she knows the rules that must 
be followed for its use. But at the crucial moment, Harry must forget 
these rules, he must *ignore* (here note the etymological sense of that 
word, he must behave as if ignorant) what Hermione knows to be true: that 
you cannot let yourself see yourself. But Harry's heroic instincts, his 
intrinsic sense of what must be done (and is inwardly-turning ability to 
see the mirror image of himself), is actually what succeeds in saving 
everyone's souls.

Darkthirty said:

<<
One scene that struck me as, however, relevatory is the 2 Harry part of 
that very Time Turner episode, the most transcendental moment of the 
series so far, bar none. It is through Harry's "imagining" that he finds 
his strength. Rowling seems here to be commenting quite directly on what I 
have described. With all the emotional tingles I felt as I read the 
passages, the alarm bells were not far in the distance. And remember, 
Harry at that point was also surrounded by Dementors, by insanity, as it 
were. I would say that that scene alone almost makes the Potter books 
"equivocal."
 >>

Yes, he did it through his imagination; in the face of the threat of 
rupture from the Dementors, he conjured up an image of his father which 
was really an image of himself, and then he went back again in time and 
completed his own fantasy once he recognized it. The perfect circle of the 
time traveling conceit does represent a closed-off environment of wish and 
wish-fulfillment. In this case, Harry's need for the love of an absent 
father is fulfilled by his own image: both the image of himself and the 
image he invents of a protective father figure (a Patronus, literally). 
This is what saves him, but it saves several others as well. His fantasy 
is not purely narcissistic, but it is bounded by a closed circle of love 
and friendship. This is, I think, what Hermione/the author is getting at 
by saying that friendship and bravery trump objective knowledge.

2. The Second Task

Darkthirty mentioned the second task. This is what I believe to be its 
significance to the overall argument. Darkthirty, please let me know if 
you agree with this or not. :-)

Harry utterly blows it figuring out the second task. He fails to *learn* 
what to do. What he *should have done* (from the evil Crouch Jr.'s point 
of view) is read the answer in a book. A perfectly good book about magical 
plants was, erm, planted right next to Harry's bed for long enough, but 
picking up a book isn't in his nature. Minutes before the task, Dobby 
arrives in the form of an Elf ex Machina to help him out with the 
Gillyweed. Why? Because they are friends, because Dobby cares about Harry 
and Harry is nice to Dobby. And as always, Harry gets by with a little 
help from his friends.

So Harry gets to the bottom of the lake, and then what? Harry 'should have 
known' that Dumbledore would not let anyone die. But he doesn't 'know' 
this. He forgets, he doesn't think about it, he doesn't logic it through. 
Instead he goes by instinct, by a heroic, intrinsic unknowing. He's 
motivated by the same heroic instinct that leads him to persevere 
elsewhere.

In Darkthirty's words:

<<
His success depends upon some inner quality, which may or may not be 
connected to his so-called magical qualities, that makes him stay. He goes 
through no internal debate. His staying was not quite a decision; rather, 
as he later reflects, it was an action, the right one, we agree, made in 
ignorance. A bit of pathos.
 >>

And he's rewarded for his great compassion and loyalty towards both his 
friends and the friends of others.

Mind you, I'm not saying this is bad! I'm simply saying that the books go 
out of their way to say that knowledge is nice, but there are other things 
far more important. Knowledge alone will not pull you through, and 
sometimes you're better off without it.

3. The classical mystery genre with its head cut off

Back in May on this list there was a thread called Coherence (and 
Coherence II) which discussed the degree to which the 'clues' in the books 
add up, and the degree to which these books correspond to the classical 
mystery story a la Agatha Christie. It was a complicated discussion that I 
won't try to summarize, but one thing I need to bring up here is Pippin's 
remark in post #39053:

<<
The most subversive thing about HP as a mystery series is that our 
detective NEVER correctly solves the main mystery. So far, the villain 
always turns out to be someone Harry never suspected and is unmasked by 
someone other than Harry himself.
 >>

Abosolutely! In the classic version of the genre, the bad guy is the last 
person you think, but the attentive reader should be able to figure it out 
from clues, or at least see the hints on a reread. This is mostly true of 
HP. But here, instead of the main character being a brilliant, logical, 
supremely rational intellectual who puts all the pieces together, instead 
we have Harry who is inevitably shocked at finding the real villain. The 
revelation of Quirrell and Crouch Jr, in particular, come out of left 
field. Harry is a figure of ignorance, slapped in the face with truth and 
recovering nonetheless.

We see evidence of Harry's intellectual nonchalance in a variety of tiny 
details. Harry isn't insightful or curious unless a life is at stake. He 
doesn't ask very good questions about the WW. He doesn't grill Sirius, 
Hagrid, or anyone else about what his parents were like. His insight into 
the other characters pales in comparison to ours. He never asks Neville 
about his parents, or for that matter Hermione about hers. He is content 
to go about his own business and enjoy the few things that do interest him.
  He's not a booklearner; he appears to be a B student -- in fact he and 
Ron take great delight in inventing answers to their homework when they 
don't know the "right" one. (Both Trelawney and Binns are lampooned as 
teachers of pointless knowledge.) Harry prefers to experience things 
intuitively; he'd rather ride a broom than listen to Hooch (or Hermione) 
talk about broom riding.

But Harry perseveres due to *sheer will power.* The ending of GoF 
illustrates this the best. What saves him is not the ability to withstand 
a Crucio or fend off an Imperio or cast spells or, heaven forbid, solve 
mysteries. He falls into Crouch Jr's trap just as planned. What saves him 
is his extraordinary strength of will with the Priori Incantatem effect. 
And once he sets his mind against Voldemort, he is rewarded, again, by 
love and loyalty: the echoes of his parents appear to give him good advice 
and embolden him on his way. His touching gesture of retrieving Cedric's 
body for his parents stands as, I think, the pivotal ethical statement of 
the series so far: be true and decent to the people you care about and the 
people they care about; this defines the hero.

Of course it's also the nightmare of the abused child turned inside-out: 
if you only love people enough, if you are true and loyal  and caring, 
then you will be rewarded with love and honor back again. And these are 
all qualities that can be dredged up from within, they are the qualities 
found in fantasy, desire and strength of will. They are touching, 
inspiring, but still trapped in a self-contained view of the world; the 
don't address the outer world of logic and learning, but the inner one of 
the heart. I see this as well in all the metaphors Darkthirty points out: 
the protections around Hogwarts and Harry's home, the anti-Muggle charms 
protecting the WW. I also see it in the working of the most powerful magic 
Harry knows: to cast a Patronus he must access a happy thought, to 
withstand an Imperio he must access his own will power and defiance.

This to me means that Darkthirty is right to suggest that something is up 
with the role of knowledge and ignorance in the books. Of course Harry's 
story is a Cinderella fantasy, we all know this. But there is a real 
thematic trend that *willing* something, that having *good intentions* is 
far more vital and practical than actual knowledge.

OTOH, some of this will change over time. I have elsewhere speculated (in 
that darn Job essay) that knowledge is in fact dangerous for Harry, but he 
will get more of it over time, and suffer from it. As Dumbledore says, 
"The truth...It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be 
treated with great caution." The truth will eventually have its 
devastating effect: the series will end when all questions are answered. 
This supports Darkthirty's reading, since the point of the fantasy will at 
that point come to an end. And while I don't believe it will come to an 
end when Harry "wakes up," I do suspect it will come to an end when Harry 
has resolved some of his "abused boy in the cupboard" issues and can 
sustain a greater degree of, if not booklearning, at least truthful 
awareness.

~Porphyria