A Sense of Betrayal / Unforgiveables

[sneeboy2]

No: HPFGUIDX 174280

--- In HPforGrownups at yahoogroups.com, "Matt" <hpfanmatt at ...> wrote:
>
Matt wrote:

> C) Cruciatus and Imperius curses in the Ravenclaw common room:
> 
> Lee did not directly discuss this scene, which I found the most
> disturbing morally.  Here, both Harry and McGonagall employ
> unforgivable curses in a situation in which they are not only
> unnecessary but hardly even provoked.  All that Harry or McGonagall
> needs to do is to disable Amycus.  But Harry is so infuriated by
> Carrow's show of disrespect that he blasts off a Cruciatus curse,
> while McGonagall follows up with the Imperius just to, what, get the
> Carrows close enough to tie up together?  
> 
> What is it supposed to tell us when Professor McGonagall, the adult
> paragon of upstanding, rule-following morality, resorts to the
> unforgivable and *unnecessary*?  Is it a show of solidarity with
> Harry?  Is it an affirmation that this is war and anything goes?  
> 
> And what has happened to Harry to make him "really mean it," to want
> to hurt Amycus so badly that his curse sends the grown man flying
> through the air?  The only explanation I can see is that Rowling needs
> to show us what the horrors of war can do to good people.  Having seen
> friends maimed, tortured and killed, having been on the run for nine
> months, driven to larceny and robbery, haunted by dreams of yet more
> terrible things, Harry is simply a different, more brutal person than
> he was in book 5.  We are intended to understand, perhaps, but not to
> think that this is okay.

Sneeboy2:
I agree with your assessment of the morality of the characters'
actions, but disagree about the author's intentions here. What sort of
music do you imagine should be playing in the background during this
scene: dark and brooding, because we've learned two people we like are
capable of such action? Or bright and triumphant, because the bad guy
got what he deserved? I hear the latter. The UC is like a gun that the
hero has been trying to fire since book 5, and he's finally proven
himself capable of shooting it. Even better, he shoots the bad guy who
gave the beloved teacher that most horrible of schoolyard disses: a
loogie in the face. Whoo-hoo!
We are meant to stand up and cheer, and when the movie comes out, I
guarantee you people will. 

Matt wrote:
> 
> D) Molly and Bellatrix:
> 
> Does it matter whether the curse that kills is a killing curse?  I
> didn't think Molly had cast one, although Lee believes so.  Here is
> how the text reads:
> 
> "Molly's curse soared beneath Bellatrix's outstreched arm 
> and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart.
> Bellatrix's gloating smile froze, her eyes seemd to bulge: 
> For the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened, 
> and then she toppled, and the watching crowd roared, and 
> Voldemort screamed."
> 
> Ordinarily with Avada Kedavra we see a flash of green light and the
> victim has no opportunity to react, no knowledge of what has happened.
>  I had therefore assumed that, while they were both "fighting to
> kill," the curse that finished Bellatrix was some other one.  
> 
> I'm not quite sure, however, why it should matter.  Is murder more
> acceptable when accomplished by poison than by a gun?  Are soldiers in
> hand combat judged by what weapon they use?  
> 
> This is clearly a case of situational morality, but from my own
> perspective, I found the right and wrong of this scene quite easy to
> judge, without reference to the particular curse.  Bellatrix was
> attempting to kill Molly's underage daughter, had already killed her
> cousin (Tonks), was gloating over the death of her older son and
> throwing lethal curses around like a madwoman, all this in the middle
> of an epic battle between good and evil.  How could Molly possibly be
> criticized for joining that battle under those circumstances and
> aiming to kill?
> 
Sneeboy2:

Again I agree with your assessment of the character's morals, but find
the bitch-got-what-she-deserved mood of the scene both distasteful and
childish. I think the author, who's fond of using a mother's love as
the ultimate motive for good, wanted to show us that a mother will
kill to defend her child. And most mothers would. But this is a
ridiculous, crowd-pleasing depiction of that fact. The moral issues
raised by these scenes don't add complexity; they muddy the water,
because they call into question what's been presented to us earlier in
the books at a point where it's too late in the narrative to seriously
address the discrepancy. We're discussing the issues here because the
books don't address them.