"Daddy's Gone Mad, Hasn't He?"

I've been mulling over just how I ought to be rationing out the chapters with this re-reading of Harry Potter. I need to exercise restraint because it's hard to put Rowling's writing down, and I don't want to blaze through all the books in a couple of weeks. The way I figure it, we have about 18 weeks until Book 7. Maybe closer to 19, but it doesn't much matter. The point is that leaves about three weeks per book. Granted, the first and second books are vastly shorter than the fifth and sixth, so that's maybe not the best way to judge. But for now, I'll stick with this, and as Sorcerer's Stone has 17 chapters, I should be reading less than a chapter a day. I've already blown that by reading the second and third chapter, one right after the other. But then those two chapters go together so well...

It's in these two chapters that Rowling establishes the Roald Dahl-esque misery of Harry's home life. It's quite a Cinderella story, with this poor orphan boy spending his first ten years reviled by three relatives so repulsive, it's difficult to determine who is the worst of the bunch. No wonder he dreams of being whisked away, though until the letters begin to arrive, he has little reason to hope this could ever be the case.

Of the three relatives, Petunia probably has the least to do in these two chapters, as she is greatly overshadowed by her husband. Mostly, her purpose here is to indulge Dudley to a sickening degree, much like Mr. Salt does with the ill-fated, uber-obnoxious Veruca in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. She dotes on her son but is beginning to fear him, realizing that she has created a monster capable of temper tantrums whose effects would probably register on the Richter scale, though probably not attributing any blame for his behavior to herself. It is she who heads off his massive meltdown by offering to buy him two extra presents (21), after screeching at Harry to get up and make breakfast so everything will be perfect for Dudley's birthday (19), perhaps in anticipation of just such a tantrum if it isn't. After her simpering assurances that she won't let Harry ruin Dudley's birthday, she falls nearly out of sight for the chapter, and in the next, she's so mortified at the thought of associating with her sister's crowd and so intimidated by her husband's increasingly irrational behavior that she spends most of the time cowering.

Dudley has developed a striking personality now, having grown from "a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets" (18) to "a pig in a wig" (21). I'm struck first by his utter aggression. His favorite pastime is beating up on Harry, and his friend gleefully join him in picking on other unfortunates at school who happen to arouse his ire. Once he receives his Smeltings stick, Vernon actually encourages him to use it to whack Harry (33) (though he perhaps regrets this when he finds himself on the receiving end of more than one of its blows). Beyond Harry, in this short space of time, Rowling mentions Dudley whining for his dad to bang on the glass of the snake enclosure (27); mowing down old Mrs. Figg on his bike (31), though presumably this was an accident; running over a dog with a miniature tank (37). He seems to harbor no affection for anyone or anything, never showing any gratitude to his parents for all their indulgences.

He's also a couch potato who schedules his life around his television shows and gets woozy if he's separated from his computer for any length of time. (I fear I see a trace of myself in this description - harrowing indeed!) It's strange to see so much technology stuffed into these chapters since the bulk of the series is devoid of such modern implements, with Hogwarts students going about their daily business in much the same way as witches and wizards a thousand years ago would have. I think Rowling may have a bit of a Luddite streak. I think I do too - though you certainly wouldn't know it from the amount of time I spend glued to my computer!

We get hints of Mrs. Figg and Aunt Marge here. Of the first, we learn little except that she is evidently a stereotypical crazy cat lady. She doesn't seem so bad, just a bit musty and eccentric and certainly not the companion of choice for a ten-year-old boy. Still, her treatment of Harry appears to be better than the Dursleys'. Of Marge we see even less, but we can guess. We're told "she hates the boy" (22), though evidently she is fond of Dudley, as she has sent him a birthday gift. We also get some sense that Marge and Vernon are probably fairly fond of each other, since she bothers to send him a postcard (34), though its contents apparently consist of complaints (35). It's no great shock when we actually meet this Debbie Downer that she is as unpleasant as her brother.

But Vernon is the main focus here. You can see where Dudley's temper came from; Vernon always seems on the verge of popping a vein, his face rapidly changing colors, his voice conveying a low threat that could become an explosive bellow at any second, particularly if anyone hints at the existence of anything abnormal (as when Harry casually mentions his dream about the flying motorcycle (25)). He's a conundrum because in his desperation to keep everything nice and normal, he throws his house into a state of chaos. I love "He hummed 'Tiptoe Through the Tulips' as he worked, and jumped at small noises." (40) The more he tries to keep Harry's people out, the more frazzled he becomes. I'm rather surprised that he makes such an effort. If this boy has made them all so miserable for the past ten years, wouldn't it be nice to be rid of him for the bulk of the year? But I guess the fear that the neighbors will figure out what's going on and come to associate the Dursleys with all that magical nonsense far outweighs any satisfaction they would receive by getting Harry out of their hair. What did Vernon plan to do, though, after that miserable night in the shack? Even if they'd avoided the letters for that day, did he think that would be a permanent solution?

It's interesting that of all his physical characteristics - scrawniness, perpetually unkempt and magically shaggy hair, green eyes, round glasses with Scotch tape across the bridge of the nose - the only one he likes is his scar, the first indication that Dumbledore was right about it coming in handy (20). Harry has no idea how he got it, of course; the Dursleys frown heavily upon questions, so he is completely in the dark when it comes to his origins, and when strange things happen he doesn't know why. It's simply a part of who he is. We learn here that he's a Parselmouth (28), though we won't encounter that word for quite some time or realize the significance of that ability. But it's a nice moment; Harry sees a creature in captivity and empathizes, even though this is a large and potentially dangerous beast. This bodes well for his future interaction with Hagrid's menagerie!

And speaking of Hagrid, things are about to get really good...