Anatomy of a Rift

[ssk7882 <skelkins@attbi.com>]

No: HPFGUIDX 52145

Abigail wrote:

> First of all, bravo, Dicentra, on a thought-provoking and 
> compelling argument. 

Oh, enthusiastically seconded!  

You know, I've always problems with Jealous!Ron?  I was never able to 
put my finger on the reasons why.  He somehow just never...*felt* 
right to me.

Now that Dicentra has done this marvellous analysis, though, I 
finally feel justified in kicking Jealous!Ron out the door and 
happily accepting a BetrayedLoyalty!Ron.

Abigail felt much the same way.  She did, however, have one Big 
Question to ask:

> What is the point?

> No, really, I'm asking. I have no idea what the answer is, 
> and that's bugging me because Dicentra's argument makes a 
> lot of sense. So, any thoughts?

Hmmmm.  Thoughts...

Well, one thing that occurs to me is that, as Dicentra and Jo and
bboy and others have pointed out, every single one of the first 
three books has given us some striking example of Ron's extraordinary 
loyalty, his capacity for self-sacrifice.  In PS/SS, he sacrifices 
himself in the chess game.  In CoS, he braves his worst phobia.  In 
PoA, he tells Sirius that Sirius will have to go through him in order 
to get to Harry.

So could it be that in GoF, we are being shown this same character
trait, but from a slightly different angle?  Perhaps Betrayed!Ron
is there to show us what such loyalty looks like when it has been 
treated cavalierly, when it believes itself to have been under-
appreciated, or spurned?  

It strikes me that GoF returns to a theme that the series has not 
touched so strongly upon since CoS: the problem of *fame.*  By 
introducing Rita Skeeter, JKR brings the issue of his own fame 
and, even more to the point, of his own unique position and role 
within the Wizarding World back home to Harry.  While CoS focused 
more on the ramifications of this role in terms of ego, though, 
GoF seems to me to focus far more strongly on its ramifications 
in terms of *duty,* of obligation.  Harry *must* participate in 
the Triwizard Tournament, regardless of the fact that he strongly 
suspects that it is a trap intended to bring about his own death.  
He simply has no choice in the matter.  His unusual talent with 
the Imperius Curse also emphasizes his oddity, his specialness.  
And of course, the "Badge Chuck" zeroes in, in a painfully explicit 
way, on the particular "badge" of his distinction: his mark, his 
scar.  

It seems to me that this issue becomes particularly important now
because, in terms of the series as a whole, GoF is a transitional 
volume, a turning point, a pivot.  To some extent, it marks the 
end of Harry's childhood.  It also marks the point at which the 
conflict with Voldemort is poised to become a war.

The Rift may serve to point out to Harry the necessity of someone 
in his position appreciating the *particular* considerations owed 
to those who have proven themselves willing to lay down their lives
for you or for your cause.  It serves as both a warning and as a
challenge to Harry: a reminder that fealty is a two-way street,
that those destined to lead have serious responsibilities and 
obligations to those who follow them -- responsibilities which 
*must* not be neglected, not even through oversight or accident.

If this is indeed the Rift's purpose, then I would expect to
see it reflected elsewhere in the text.  And indeed, I do.
In fact, I think that it is reflected quite strongly in the
behavior of the villains throughout GoF, particularly Voldemort, 
who has already been established as a literary double to Harry.  

It seems to me that the parts of GoF which focus on the antagonists 
are overwhelmingly concerned with the bonds of loyalty, fealty and 
duty.  They stand, however, to illustrate what happens when these 
concepts are perverted, or when they are misapplied.  

The entire Crouch family subplot, for example, revolves around 
misguided notions of devotion, loyalty and duty.  Crouch mistakes 
coercion for devotion.  Percy and Winky grant Crouch loyalty that 
he does not merit.  The entire Crouch household applies its misguided 
devotion to its erring scion.  Barty Jr., in turn, gives his to 
Voldemort.  

What allows us to know that all of these expressions of personal 
devotion are misapplied is that they are *non-reciprocal.*

Crouch is willing to sacrifice both his son and his servant to
protect himself; he cannot remember his assistant's name and will 
not even do him the courtesy of drinking his tea.  Crouch Jr. rewards 
Winky for her devotion by exploiting her weakness at the QWC, and 
he murders the father who saved his life.  His own loyalty to 
Voldemort is rewarded by soul death at the hand of one of his 
master's "natural allies."

Every single one of Voldemort's scenes in this novel similarly
showcases and highlights Voldemort's own unwillingness to 
recognize the reciprocity of service.  voldemort demands utter 
devotion, loyalty and submission from his followers, yet he does 
not recognize any corresponding obligations towards those who 
tender him such service.  Indeed, although he promises reward
to those who serve him faithfully, whenever one of his followers 
actually shows signs of *expecting* quid pro quo, he takes
great pains to disabuse them of that notion.

In the first chapter of the book, in spite of his absolute 
dependence on Wormtail's service, Voldemort refuses to give 
him any assurance that he will not be killed once he no longer
proves useful.  In the dream sequence, his punishment of 
Wormtail for allowing Crouch Sr. to escape is gratuitous,
excessive, and sadistic.  In the graveyard, Voldemort *talks* 
a good game of contracts and of loyalty, but his actual actions 
make it clear precisely what the nature of this "contract" really 
is.  He coaxes his Death Eaters to beg forgiveness for their prior 
disloyalty, but when one finally does, he retaliates with torture 
and the assurance that "I do not forgive."  He delays replacing 
Wormtail's hand until he has first forced Wormtail to proclaim, 
out loud and in front of the assembled Death Eaters, that he is 
actually owed *nothing.*  Nothing but suffering.  Only *then* is 
Voldemort willing to "reward" him for his service, thus making it 
clear to all that his "reward" is absolutely not to be viewed as 
any form of payment.  There *is* to be no quid pro quo in this 
relationship.  The "reward" is actually an *undeserved gift,*
an act of Grace -- and indeed, Wormtail responds to it with 
precisely the sort of gratitude appropriate to such a bestowal.

To say that Voldemort has no sense of noblesse oblige would be 
a gross understatement.  He has no sense of *reciprocity.* He 
demands the privileges of fealty, but he does not accept its 
corresponding responsibilities, obligations or duties.  Voldemort
does not want to be master to his followers.  Master/servant is a 
reciprocal relationship.  Instead, Voldemort wants to be their god.

Perhaps the Rift is there to show to Harry the dangers inherent
in such a lack of reciprocity?  

Steve/bboy wrote:

> First this thought was triggered in my mind by someone mentioning 
> that after the second task when Ron was getting some attention, 
> Harry assume Ron's pleasure in it was because Ron was getting to 
> share the limelight for a change. This person (sorry couldn't find 
> that post again) speculated the Ron 'joy' was really in the 
> realization the he (Ron) was the most precious thing in Harry's 
> life, even more precious the Harry's world class Firebolt 
> Broomstick which was the first thing Harry thought of.

Yes.  I think that's why he's so happy too.

Being valued in just that fashion was also what Crouch Jr. fixated
upon, wasn't it?  It was what he felt he never received from his 
father.  And it was what he hoped, foolishly, to receive from 
Voldemort.

<pause>

<slow smile>

One last thought about the responsibility towards ones followers,
this one going back to last week's Train Stomp discussion, in 
which we were discussing the significance of the Twins ambushing
the anti-Trio and cursing them from behind...

It occurs to me, you know, that Voldemort and Crouch Jr. aren't 
the only antagonists who serve as Harry's literary doubles in
this story.  Draco Malfoy also plays that role, as unsatisfying 
as he may be in it.  And there's something about that Train Stomp
that I was thinking about last week.  Something that I don't 
believe anyone else brought up.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Interesting effect," said George, looking down at Crabbe. "Who
used the Furnunculus Curse?"

"Me," said Harry.

"Odd," said George lightly. "I used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though
those two shouldn't be mixed. He seems to have sprouted little
tentacles all over his face. Well, let's not leave them here,
they don't add much to the decor."

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Crabbe.  That would be the same Crabbe who braved Fake!Moody's
wrath to try to help Ferret!Draco during the Ferret Bounce, 
wouldn't it?

The Slyth Trio are described as "covered with hex marks," but
I do find it interesting that this discussion of such marks 
actually being on someone's *face* centers on poor dear
voiceless Vincent Crabbe.

See, I just can't seem to shake this sneaking suspicion that 
Draco's *face* is probably just fine.

Good Guys really *shouldn't* go hexing their enemies in the back, 
you know.

But they don't go using their followers as human shields, either.



-- Elkins (who will happily board Marina's Harry/Millicent ship, so 
long as she is allowed to desseminate Redeemable!Crabbe leaflets to
all the crew)