Thursday, July 26, 2007

House-Elves of the World, Unite! (Deathly Hallows Spoilers)

Okay, so it wasn't exactly the Ewok assault in Return of the Jedi. But that's only because there were so many others battling evil forces along with the house-elves. No doubt they contributed significantly to the big battle; Rowling just didn't focus that much on what they were doing, and I think this might be one of those things that will be intensified in the film, when we can watch lots of things happening at once. If the director deigns to include the elves, which he might not, given all the CG involved... But here's hoping!

The house-elves' most significant contributions, however, come earlier in the book, in the form of Kreacher and Dobby. Kreacher's always stood in contrast to Dobby, as acrimonious as Dobby is affectionate. I really wanted to see him warm up to Harry and his friends a little, but two books later with little apparent change in disposition, I was starting to think that perhaps he'd always be Kreacher the Grouch. He continually showed contempt for Hermione despite all of her kind attempts to win him over, and he was none too nice to Harry, who was not nearly so genteel as Hermione, particularly after Sirius's death.

But then I heard his story, and as soon as I did, I not only felt incredibly sorry for him but felt that he was no more inherently vile than Dobby, that they were both shaped by their very different experiences. Dobby had no allegiance whatsoever to his masters, except from the magical bonds that caused him to hurt himself whenever he spoke ill of them. The Malfoys had never treated him with a scrap of dignity or gentleness, and so he dreamed of a life free of their cruelty.

However despicable Mrs. Black was in many ways, it would seem that she treated Kreacher fairly well, and Regulus certainly did. Until, of course, he handed him over to Voldemort in a moment of blind enthusiasm. I don't think he really had an inkling of what Voldemort had planned, and once he realized what he had put Kreacher through, that destroyed his desire to be involved with Voldemort. So deep was his remorse that he sacrificed his life to foil Voldemort, and to save Kreacher, who he refused to put through that terrible ordeal again.

Kreacher had to watch his beloved master die, and then to feel as though he had failed him because he was unable to destroy the locket. He's like Snape, so deeply scarred by the death of the person he cared about most in the world, and probably feeling some responsibility for it since it was telling him what had happened in the cave that drove Regulus to the act that resulted in his death. And then, to be tormented by his brother, similar to Regulus in appearance but very different in personality, much like Snape was harrassed by the presence of Harry, who reminded him just as much of the hated James as the beloved Lily.

Harry gives Dobby what he most craves: freedom. He gives Kreacher the equivalent - a physical reminder of his beloved master, binding him still more deeply to his house. Something he can carry with him even if he's working in the Hogwarts kitchens, which I don't imagine he'll do much of anymore, though perhaps he's grown rather fond of having company other than a yowling painting. And he gives him still more: The promise that he intends to help him fulfill his vow to Regulus. And though he hasn't managed it by the time he leaves Grimmauld Place - hasn't even gotten the locket by that time, let alone figured out how to destroy it - that promise, coupled with the empathy of Harry, Hermione and even Ron, is enough to effect a complete change in Kreacher, to bring out the very best in him and to show that he never really was rotten to begin with.

Without Kreacher, Harry would've had a heck of a time getting his hands on that locket. I suppose he might have managed it eventually, but Kreacher really allowed him to pursue a definite plan, the starting point of his year of wanderings, and because of the new bond of loyalty that formed between him and Harry, Kreacher also led the house-elf forces at the end of the book.

Dobby, meanwhile, who has fallen all over himself to help Harry in the past, with varying degrees of success, is the height of heroism here, returning to the place he loathes most in all the world in order to rescue Harry and his friends. Without him, doom might well have come to Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Dean, Mr. Ollivander and Griphook. He valiantly rescued all seven of them, and Harry's absolute anguish over his death spared him the unholy influence of Voldemort's rage at the critical moment, throwing into sharp focus the proper way for him to proceed.

I'm reminded of the scene between Sam and Frodo at the top of Cirith Ungol, when Frodo is temporarily rendered vicious by a desire for the power the Ring would bring. Harry's lust for the Elder Wand made him take leave of his senses and speak Voldemort's name despite the taboo, which landed him at the Malfoys' in the first place. Just as his love for Sam brings Frodo back to reason, healing grief over Dobby allows Harry to see just how poisonous the desire for the Deathly Hallows is, how he would have the potential to become that which he seeks to destroy if he got too hung up on possessing these objects. He chooses to vanquish evil rather than seize power for himself, and from that point his purpose never wavers, even when Voldemort is gone and all three Hallows could easily be Harry's for the taking. In that way, Dobby not only saves his life, he helps to preserve his soul.

I wonder what happens to the house-elves from here. If Rowling's revealed that Hermione goes into magical law, I'm sure she will make it a priority to see that house-elves are afforded better rights. I have to say, I was pretty impressed with Ron in this book. He's always been a bit more self-centered and immature than Harry and Hermione, but he demonstrates very real, unsolicited concern for the fates of others, including the family of Reg Cattermole and the house-elves. There might have been a momentary flash of cynicism in which I considered that his desire to warn the house-elves was just something to say in order to inspire Hermione's affection, but by that point he was far beyond taking empty advice from the book he gave Harry for his birthday. There was absolute sincerity in his fear for the house-elves' safety, which I think is a great mark of how he has matured, particularly in this last book. And if Ron can be taught, perhaps the rest of the Wizarding world can too.

2 comments:

Beth said...

Erin, this is such a wonderful and touching analysis...thank you!

I especially love your point that: "Dobby not only saves his life, he helps to preserve his soul." Thank you for helping me to realize that.

As I continue to go back and take sips from favorite scenes, I keep running across lines that really astound me. Dumbledore's insight at King's Cross is one of them: "That which Voldemort does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend. Of house-elves and children's tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence, Voldemort knows and understands nothing."

It was the overlooking of all those things and more that eventually led to Voldemort's downfall, and which led to his dehumanizing life in the first place.

And good points about Ron. I loved Ron's character development in this book -- he truly changes and deepens. His character has been so shortchanged in the films; I hope that whoever directs film 7 (and I'm rooting for Kenneth Branagh!) really lets him shine.

Erin said...

Oooh, Kenneth Branagh? Now that's a tantalizing thought! Ron really does need more of a chance to shine in the movies. All his really centric scenes got cut in Order of the Phoenix; at least it seems he'll be more prominent in the sixth film, given what I read about Rowling laughing over thinking about them casting Lavender Brown, though it's rather a shame that it's his least admirable qualities that are emphasized throughout that relationship. We need some reminders of how noble he can be!

There was such a sense of purity and beauty to the scenes of Harry digging that grave with his own hands and carving out Dobby's headstone. It was so desperately sad, yet of all the deaths in the book of characters we care about, the demise of Dobby, a little house-elf Voldemort never would have paid any attention to, feels the most meaningful.

And the point about the children's tales - if Voldemort had heard the story of the Deathly Hallows, he would have sought the power of the wand, thinking the brother in the story died because he was unworthy but that he would be fit for an object of such power. Harry, meanwhile, acquires the wisdom to see that the true lesson of the story is not to attempt to conquer death but to evade it as best one can until the course of one's life runs out, at which point death is no longer something to look on with fear.