The Liminal Librarian

So people keep asking me whether I have read the 7th installment of the Book That Shall Not Be Named. No, scratch that — they keep assuming I had it in my hot little hands promptly at 12:01 AM Sat. and have been holed up reading ever since. Because I’m a librarian, dontcha know.

I will confess that my library hold was filled Saturday, but I haven’t started reading yet. Why? Because I was finishing up some better books, dontcha know.

Don’t get me wrong, I like Harry Potter fine, and I’m going to read the book, and I’m glad for Ms. Rowling and her semi-rags-to-riches story. But I’m sitting here watching the whole spectacle with the same bemusement I feel about Yu-gi-oh, or Beanie Babies, or any of the other cultural fads that wash over us for no apparent reason. Harry is a good series, but is it a better series than, oh, say, Philip Pullman’s (ahem*better-written-and-edited*achoo) His Dark Materials? Or any of the other child wizard or fantasy series from which it derives much of its structure?

I guess I’d have more respect for the whole phenomenon if there was more evidence that Harry hooked kids (or adults!) into reading more broadly. Or if the paranoia and secrecy were a little less overblown… But, I don’t see a lot of lasting effects after the party is over.

On a less curmudgeonly note, I’ll leave you with Love in the Time of lolcats. Just because.