哈利波特读后感英语

After ten years, J.K.R did not let us down. The darkest, fastest-paced, most desperate and dynamic magical adventure of the 7-part series carries the reader along faster than a speeding broomstick chased by Dementors. Throughout, doubts must be battled, fears faced, loyalties tested, and grief postponed whilst well-loved characters fall, chapter by chapter, yet there is no time to mourn. Rowling as a narrator has grown up and so has Harry; this no longer feels like a children’s story but an epic myth, the echo and inheritor of a centuries-ancient tale told and sung around firesides, full of sound and fury, signifying more than we like to let on - the tug of old archetypes we already know, old tales which still resonate heart-deep, with anyone who has ever wondered who wins, when you pit love against hate, and hope against nihilism.

I am sure there will be sneerers and jeerers at the power of the commercial spell cast worldwide and the ringing tills at midnight, the over-familiarity of the children’s-story syntax; they are missing the point. The story of all humankind is the story of a story-telling animal and it is only this which distinguishes us from the other mammals, when it comes to the end. We will always be enchanted and enslaved by the telling and re-telling of the same story we all, always want to hear, again and again. The ancient magic of light vs. darkness, heroism and struggle, the bloody clash of battles, wrench of secrets painfully revealed; the warrior tested, the torturous night of the soul, the slow learning of the terrible, yet wonderful fact that no-one is alone, and that in the end, help comes, from friends, from strangers, from unexpected sources; from within and without, because of faith, because of courage, because of love. Of how our own humanity saves us, how our weakness is our strength.

So this latest incarnation of the old, old tale of the resurrected lost one, the lonely one who is loved, the hero who doubts, the child who is adult, the griever restored, the victim who triumphs, the Boy Who Lived - is deeply satisfying in the way everyone recognises. Anyone who has fallen asleep at the end of a story, with the author’s pact satisfied - I will let you frighten, anger, worry and scare me, if you make it all right at the end. If I learn something, and if they live, if not happy ever after, but if they live - will be replete at the ending of this long saga.

I prefer to think its enormous sucess is not just because of cyncial hyper-successful marketing. I prefer to think that it is because we all love a story, told well, before we lay down to sleep at the end of a long day.

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