I usually have an opinion on all things Harry Potter. That hasn’t changed. What has changed is that I’m not as vocal about it as I used to be for any number of reasons.
Potter has reached the point in the culture where it’s morphed from a personal story beloved by a great many people into a cultural touchstone that is repeatedly abused to make tangential points about whatever pet issue the speaker has. Other feminists take great glee in finding the moments that seem to them anti-woman. Asians take great glee in misusing and misattributing the story to make points about racism. Harry Potter is no longer a thing you can just sit with quietly and meditate upon. It is now a mass experience.
Potter was a refuge for me during what was the worst summer of my life to date. It has served as a refuge for me through countless struggles with work, life, pain, death.
That would be why the fervor over the new play is something off my radar. Making the newest Potter story a public performance underscores the fact that this is no longer a thing you can experience privately. That’s not a bad thing, but it’s also not my thing. So I’m waiting for the day I can sit in my home and watch the video of the play and experience the expanding canon inside the garden of my head.