“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense.”
So, modestly, J. K. Rowling opens the saga that launched millions of readers around the world on a voyage across ten years and more than 4,000 pages, enthralled by the adventures of a boy named Harry Potter and the friends, mentors, and enemies he meets at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In their passage through Harry’s magical education, fans young and old have been held spellbound by Rowling’s compelling mix of boarding school camaraderie, delightfully arcane erudition as elaborated in the intricate traditions and curious curriculum of Hogwarts, recognizably adolescent instincts and uncertainties, heart-stopping exploits of derring-do, and, not least, the hopeful bravery of simple good versus complex evil. The progenitor of the most astonishing publishing phenomena in history, the first volume in the Harry Potter chronicle is happy evidence of the enduring magic and undiminished power of good storytelling—a magic and power that its sequels dispense with a more familiar but no less seductive lavishness.
I, like so many, grew up on Harry Potter and have returned again and again to the moral lessons of the series. The comforting triumphs and all-too-familiar challenges that the characters discover as they come of age made me feel like Hogwarts was my home, too. I know that's a truth I will rely on throughout my life. This proves it: "Of course it's happening in your head, Harry, but why on Earth should that make it not real?" I may just use this entry as an excuse to read all seven.
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