Young reader gets the buzz from Potter stories

Pottermania is back again -- and with it, the anti-Potters, who associate our boy wizard with the anti-Christ.

I don't care.

My youngest son, who rarely reads anything longer than a thought balloon in a comic strip or a direction code on a computer game, has just started reading the series for the first time, and as far as I'm concerned -- that's magic! He's already finished the first one, and it took him about a week just to get through the first chapter. He started the second one Sunday afternoon, and by Sunday night, he'd finished the first chapter and was well into the second.

"It's like almost anything else in the world," I told him. "The more you do it, the easier it gets."

There are exceptions to this of course, including paying taxes and childbirth.

I've never understood the objections some folks have to magic in children's books. As far as I'm concerned, all children's books are magic, whether they're about a mystery-solving Nancy Drew or a tribe of wandering rabbits led by Hazel, Fiver and Thlayli. And any book that can drag a reluctant reader in so completely and introduce them to other books -- that just goes beyond magic and straight into miracle.

I've always been a reader. I can't remember learning what those letters meant, but I can remember sneaking out of first grade class and stealing books from the sixth-grade end because I entered school already knowing how Spot ran and Jane jumped.

Almost every story I read in my early elementary days were about horses -- unless I was forced by some cruel and unyielding teacher to read about Dick, Jane, little engines that could, and the exports and imports of Peru. One of those dreaded and forced reading assignments was a story in our fourth-grade reader called "The Lion, the Witch and The Wardrobe." I mentioned that book excerpt to my oldest brother, and within weeks, he'd gotten me the whole set -- a Puffin box set that wasn't even available in this country at the time. It was like giving someone the first hit of crack, the first snort of cocaine, the first shot of heroin, or the first Godiva truffle. I was hooked for life. Fauns and talking lions, flying horses and mermaids ... I discovered the magic of magic.

I re-read C.S. Lewis's Chronicles of Narnia every year -- I still do -- but when I was about 13 and going through confirmation class, I finally saw beyond the fairy tale elements to the Christian allegory lying beneath. It opened up whole new layers for me.

Thankfully, my 10-year-old is a little sharper than I am, but he has the added advantage (and disadvantage) of seeing the story unfold on the big screen. When the lion Aslan returns to life, Buzz nodded and said, "Just like Jesus. He died to save them all."

As he worked his way through the first Harry Potter book, he'd ask questions, even though he's seen the movies. They ranged from technical -- "How do you pronounce 'Hermione'?" -- to oddly legal. "Harry's aunt and uncle live in the real world and Harry lives in the wizarding world, but why can't someone arrest them for locking Harry up under the stairs?"

Buzz may be a little shaky on theory, but he knows his child neglect laws.

When his older brothers read the books, they also made some sharp observations and they found themselves defending the books against some of their more conservative peers.

"It's about good versus evil," said Ben. "Good wins. What's the problem?"

"The kids know to go to grown ups and ask for help," said Scott. "They work together to solve their problems."

Personally, I think we underestimate our children. I resent the fact that we'll never see the truly great Warner Brothers cartoons on network television anymore because they've been deemed "too violent" for children. First of all, they were never really intended for children. They were the short features than ran in front of regular feature movies, not children's movies.

Even so, I don't know about the less-than-gifted children of the researchers who made that determination, but mine are perfectly capable of realizing that if a real piano falls on a real head, real pain ensues. They know you can't paint a hole on the sidewalk and then fall through it, and they're pretty sure rabbits, ducks and Martians can't talk.

They also know witches and wizards are fictional, but good and evil are real.

Buzz, at this point, is probably more interested in trying to pronounce the words than debating the philosophies of good versus evil. But again -- I don't care. All I know is that he is reading voluntarily for the first time in his life. I have no doubt that the tale of Harry Potter will lead him to the tale of Aslan, the story of David and Goliath, the adventure of Noah's Ark, and on to reading the greatest story ever told for himself.

What an exciting trip he's begun!

-- Mary Reeves is a staff writer for the Times-Gazette. She can be reached by e-mail at mreeves@t-g.com.