Generation - Elanor Leman

He Who Shall Not Be Named: Villain of a Generation

eLanor Leman

The fact that my spell-checker accepts his name is clear proof that Harry Potter’s nemesis has well and truly entered our literary canon as one of the most chilling villains of this age. From his malevolent snake-eyed haunting of the book series, to Ralph Fiennes’ masterfully chilling performance in the film series, his name and legacy are perhaps exceeded only by protagonist Harry. And, of course, author J.K. Rowling.

TO BE CLEAR, I’M NOT HERE TO CATALOGUE HER DESCENT FROM BELOVED CHILDREN’S AUTHOR TO SEETHING TWITTER BIGOT, NOR REFUTE HER.

Now that I have your attention, let’s talk a little bit about Rowling. Like many children of the Nineties and early Noughties, I grew up eagerly consuming the Harry Potter series with each new instalment. I must have read the books dozens of times in total, queuing hungrily for every new release, and purchasing more than my fair share of merchandise. Cutting ahead to my adult life, though I matured and found new books and cultures to engage with, I would always look back fondly on this formative aspect of my childhood, probably one of the main drivers of my passion for reading. I should also mention, I am transgender.

You probably see where this is going. To be clear, I’m not here to catalogue her descent from beloved children’s author to seething Twitter bigot, nor refute her. Yet from a frankly painful and horrifying wave of discrimination rising in our shared homeland, the UK, to ripples elsewhere, as American politicians quote her while they shoot down equality bills in the Senate, the outcomes of her newfound interest have been all too clear. Disastrously so. For many of us - trans or not - seeing the author behind a deeply beloved series take this turn is troubling to say the least. Let’s try and avoid a discussion on the buzzword of cancel culture: if you’ve got a publication as famous as Harper’s Magazine decrying your silencing and oppression, you’re probably not the victim in this instance. But I have seen another idea raised in this context: Death of the Author. Roland Barthes penned the now mildly infamous essay of this name in 1967, and it gets thrown around a fair bit these days. I dare say more than a few readers would like to find legitimacy for holding onto a cherished keystone of their youth.

However, Barthes was writing in the field of literary criticism, and taking aim at those looking for the ‘meaning’ of a text. He argued that “the text is a tissue of citations, resulting from the thousand sources of culture” – meaning is produced not solely by author, but by reader and the fine granularity of context, too. Harry Potter does not take an aside from fighting Lord Voldemort to soliloquy about the dangers he sees in gender-affirming healthcare. Barthes is, though ostensibly appropriate to invoke, not entirely relevant here.

What is relevant is the idea that we can separate an author from a text - not analytically, as Barthes examined, but ethically. This is a thorny issue, one which could easily fill a thesis or more. There are two aspects to consider: enjoyment, and profit. I haven’t the space to tackle in depth whether it is ethically just to enjoy the artistic product of someone morally compromised. For the record, I believe it is possible, although in practice it is quite difficult. The latter issue is much simpler. If the author is not Dead, but rather alive and profiting from your consumption, it seems much more definitively unacceptable to indirectly fund their behaviours.

But regarding the former – I loved Harry Potter. I read those books over and over. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on the next one, and the next one. And the series I so adored, that showed us all how the downtrodden and discriminated-against could rise up and win happiness for themselves, I can now hardly look at without a bitter lump rising in my throat. Rowling has supported, at times either explicitly or implicitly, movements and even legislation that could see me freely fired and harassed, and worse left without much-needed medical care. I say, with full awareness of the heaviness of my claim, that I am doubtless her campaigning will – if it hasn’t already – cost the lives of younger and less well-supported trans people than myself.

I’m not asking you to throw away and burn your Harry Potter books. But I am suggesting, before you buy the latest merchandise, engage in the social media hype and then go to see the next Fantastic Beasts film, that you consider the cause you support and the message you send by it. And here, Barthes does apply – it is not just your intent that impacts your reception.