Tonight, with the release of The Deathly Hallows II, marks the end of an era of sorts. The internet seems to be a buzz with Harry Potter. There are recommendations for post-Potter reads, college courses analyzing Harry Potter and Christian theology and essays outlining the effect of the Potter series as a cultural touchstone to the millennial generation.
I don't count myself ammong the millenial crowd. I didn't grow up with Harry, Ron and Hermoine. I didn't discover the books 'til college. But they have played a distinct role in the past decade of my life. Prowling for my sister's copy the newest copy, ever ready to swoop in and start reading the moment she put it down. Watching my sister and mother practice the lost of art of reading from different pages of the same book. Begging a less active member to read portions of a newly released book 5 while a missionary in Finland. And later, fresh home from my mission, I curled up with that same book and devoured it.
I remember the excitement associated with each new book. And I remember how I paced myself though the seventh, savoring the words, knowing it was the last. Now, with the release of the final movie, I revisit that same reluctance to see it end. I know that this final movie will be great - the first half was amazing and I was so excited for part 2. Yet, now that it's here, I don't know if I'm ready for it. Part of me wants to save it for later. I think I'll hold off for a few days and see it with my sisters when I go to Utah next week - it seems only fitting for book that "changed my life".
A little "the Book of Mormon" - Harry Potter mash-up for your viewing pleasure.