Saturday, 12 October 2013

Harry Potter and Religion in Britain in the Twenty-First Century

Religion in the Harry Potter novels may seem a frivolous topic upon which to write a paper for a blog. Many of the articles on religious blogs are about placing serious and new ideas in front of the reader: how do we interpret a text, or what do we think about the morality of cloning or globalization? Rowling's works cannot be classed amongst these topics for they are unapologetically children's novels and, even if they are popular, they scarcely represent innovative deeply philosophical works. I therefore need to explain why these books are worthy of theological analysis.

The answer is rooted in the wide circulation of Rowling's books: Harry Potter represents the fiction of the masses. These novels have been popular throughout the western world and, whilst they have provoked a certain amount of protest from some Christian groups, they have generally been regarded as uncontroversial. Therefore I wish to consider them not as important radical literature, but rather as literature that tells us about contemporary popular belief concerning the role of official religion and the divine.

As a historian I have engaged in debates concerning the nature of popular religion. Many of these debates concern not the sophisticated scholastic theology of the medieval universities, but rather the crude arguments of the mass circulated woodcut and broadsheet: the propaganda material that was seen by the mass of the population. Harry Potter is probably the most similar work today, and its wide circulation has led me to speculate that it can be handled in similar ways to reveal the popular beliefs of our society. It seems that these novels are the nearest thing that we have to an expression of how the majority of western people view the world, and therefore reveal their philosophical and theological beliefs.

There is one important facet of the works that makes them particularly suited for this role. They represent a romantic engagement with the past and present of European culture and society. Nearly every detail that can be found in the books represents an almost iconic view of the past: writing is with quills, lessons take place at Victorian desks, the buildings are gothic, and the railways are run with inter-war steam locomotives. Rowling very cleverly picks out the elements of British culture that our imaginations most clearly engage with. She tells us much about the values, lifestyle and ambitions of middle class England. It is this that makes the books so popular: they represent the dreams of society.

This congruence with social aspiration answers the major objection that could be placed against the use of Rowling's novels as an expression of popular belief: there are other stories that have particularly caught the public imagination, but tell us little about the state of religion in the modern context. The most obvious of these is the 'Star Wars' films, which were based on Hinduism rather than Christianity. However, my argument does not force me to claim that Hinduism is prevalent in English society because many of the dualistic themes in Star Wars could be explained through Hellenistic ideas inherited from classical literature. Further, it should be noted that Star Wars presents an alternative universe to our own, one which is not representative of the history of European society. Therefore Rowling's books can be taken as a measure of religious consciousness in a way that Star Wars and other science fiction fantasies cannot.

This article examines two particular aspects of the Harry Potter books. Firstly, the disappearance of official religion from the popular consciousness. Secondly, the theological and philosophical assumptions upon which Harry's world is built.

The lack of official religion in these books is possibly one of the reasons that might make my choice a strange one for considering the nature of contemporary popular religion. The genre of fantasy could be a significant problem, as the spiritual realm of the books might be so different from ours as to make any reference to real religion difficult. However, Rowling's construction of the magical world is such that this is not the case. Various references are made to Christian feasts and festivals, and to Christian history, so a historic Christian society seems to be the one from which both magical and non-magical worlds originated. Therefore if the society she describes seems very familiar, it is because it is really a description of present British society, which also has a Christian past.

It must be granted that there is an obvious historical problem with the relationship between witchcraft and Christianity, which partly explains the disappearance of religious practice from the course of the story. However, whilst this might potentially have represented a problem, a problem that was commented on when Rowling discusses 'muggle' ways, and the burning of witches, there is little reference here to religion as a possible cause of persecution. Given that Rowling's account of magical powers as a purely natural phenomenon would fit with a medieval Christian world view of alchemy and medicine, there are obvious ways in which her account of the conflict between 'muggle' and 'wizarding' worlds need not exclude religion. It is notable that she neither takes religion as hospitable to magic, nor rejects it as the evil 'muggle' led oppressor of wizards, but instead she excludes descriptions of official religious practice from the narrative, as if it were irrelevant to the story.

The rejection of both of these options can be explained through the romanticism of the novels. Rowling wishes on the one hand to agree with the myth of medieval heresy hunt, which places the church as enemy and oppressor, but on the other hand knows that if pursued this would lead very easily to a rejection of all that is traditionally Christian, and so create a very unfamiliar fantasy world. She is no doubt also aware that allowing religion to be a force either for or against magic would involve discussion of unfamiliar religious belief and tenets that could alienate many readers. Thus Rowling places herself quite firmly in the predicament in which our society so often finds itself: wishing to freely criticise faith and the church, but on the other wishing to retain a form of folk religious memory. This similarity to society is probably why her books are unchallenging reading for so many.

So whilst the practice of religion and the knowledge of its doctrines has disappeared, the Christian past of Rowling's society is significant in shaping the chronologies of her books, which are built around a three-term year with its origins in the Christian calendar. The books assume knowledge of the feasts and holidays of the church, feasts that are the same ones that continue to be celebrated by the majority in the western world, even when their link with religion is tenuous. In the mind of students, the winter begins with the celebration of Halloween. Here the old Christian vigil fast has been transformed into a festival, with no feast of All Hallows to follow. This most manifestly relates to how this Halloween is treated in modern society, with emphasis lying on witches and the cutting of pumpkins rather than the fast. It thus has become a celebration of nothing in that it serves no purpose except to bind students together in entertainment.

Christmas likewise still bears its name, but is stripped of any Christian implications. Christmas has become a time to decorate the school, to have feasts, and to give presents. There is a great emphasis on how it gives the students time off with their families and how families are bound together by feasting and gift-giving: the life and worship of the family replaces the worship of God.

This deconsecrated year seems to demonstrate how the awareness of religion has slipped from the modern consciousness. It represents a real change in our society for the books seem to envisage a world in which festivals can be kept only for entertainment and family bonding. There may be something spiritual here, but it would be difficult to regard it as religious as the only transcendent ideal is that of the family. This change of meaning may be compared to transformation of festivities in the post-Reformation church, where for instance the feast of St Hugh with its associated bonfires became attached to the Accession of Elizabeth, and then to the Gunpowder Plot: the festivity remained, but its underlying meaning had changed.

This development represents a great challenge to the concept of vicarious religion that has been discussed in the works of Grace Davie. If society at large has merely a nominal memory of Christianity, so that whilst the majority of the population is not antagonistic towards Christianity it is also profoundly ignorant of the meaning of its life, then this implies that the wider population do not regard Christian practice as something that is done either for them or in their name.

It may be the case that the majority of the population continues to regard itself as Christian and name hospitals after saints, but does this mean that they like Harry mark Halloween, Christmas and Easter only by feasting and exchanging presents? If so, this implies that vicarious religion has broken down, and that so-called vernacular religion (the religion as practiced by the majority of the population) has been emptied of Christian content. It may be that others in Harry's world properly celebrate the Christian year and are interested in religious practice, and certainly no criticism is ever made in the books of such people, but they are an irrelevance to Harry and his world, which exists quite happily and independently of the religious sphere. Those in both the Hogwarts and the muggle worlds have no interest in anyone's vicarious action on their behalf.

Indeed, Rowling may be a pioneer in seeing the future trajectory of our society. Whilst it is true that the church has some relevance to some people in regard to issues of life and death, in Rowling's world we find descriptions of a world in which the Christian rite and practice of burial has been transformed so that it is no longer religious at all. At Dumbledore's funeral our society comes into contact with a rite that is wholly about the wizard and the congregation, and contains no religious message whatsoever about death or immortality. What is manifest, however, is that the service achieves little except that it acts as a social and psychological placebo: a decent way of letting go of the past. When we compare this to the pressures currently exerted on clergy by bereaved families, whose aim is to have a funeral for the deceased with as little reference to Christianity as possible, we see how Rowling has very accurately described our current situation. Societal habit may dictate that our end should be marked by officials speaking fine words in a gothic context, but this can scarcely be regarded as a sign of living religious consciousness.

Whilst some authors may wish to question the idea of secularisation as a simple process of religious rejection, Rowling's books demonstrate that although some elements of the romantic and spiritual remain present in our social consciousness, they are inadequate to sustain Christianity within our society; for these shards no longer convey enough of the Christian story to provide a Christian world view. Whilst it is true that many may continue to regard themselves as religious or Christian, it seems unlikely in the longer term that 'believing without belonging' is sustainable:  outward signs of religion will gradually become more disassociated from their Christian meanings until only a nominal religion remains that makes no claims or demands upon its members. The Harry Potter books demonstrate how this process is even now happening amongst those who are below forty years old.

The Potter books thus mirror many of the movements taking place in our society, and I would argue that the changes reflect an important shift in our historical consciousness. Whereas previous generations have seen themselves as existing in continuity and progression with a Christian past, the present generation has a historical consciousness that reaches back only as far as the birth of pop culture in the 1960s and the political disputes of the 1940s. Many debates now take place without reference to our past and are most deeply rooted in the ideas of the 1960s generation, whose experiences and attitudes are regarded as the norm. The same is true for the world of Harry Potter. The phenomenon of the disappearance of an alien official religion from the public sphere in Rowling's work significantly coincides with the very short historical memory of the wizarding society to which Harry belongs. In Harry's world history only really extends as far the lives of living wizards: Voldemort and Dumbledore represent a horizon beyond which everything is cloaked in a romantic historical mist.   

The disappearance of religion and limited historical consciousness probably reflect the underlying philosophy of the books. The most obvious and also most interesting aspect of the book is that every aspect of the story can be attributed to the static laws of nature. This explains why there is such a lack of interest in history and religion: history is referred to for descriptions of past events rather than as a purposeful narrative, and religion is ignored so that natural explanations of individual events can dominate.

This emphasis on the natural applies to both muggle and magical worlds. Although Harry's classes are described in terms of magic, the word 'magic' can be regarded as a misnomer for activities which in his world are natural and scientific. Harry's supposedly exotic spells and potions classes are little more than learning key skills and methods of manipulating the principles of nature that are hidden from muggles. Magic is taught as a method that has to be found and practiced like a sport or a school exercise. It represents a human skill that can be learnt and mastered through certain movements, words, or thoughts. The wizard is the ultimate source of all his doings and he is not moved by any power beyond his own will, so that magic is reduced to the level of immanence.

It is no doubt because of this rather mundane account of Hogwarts magic that Rowling attempts to make it more mysterious by circumscribing those who are capable of magical action. This limiting she considers in a number of ways. The most logical way in which to describe such a distribution of those with higher powers, the chosen ones, without recourse to an explanation involving a transcendent magical power is to reduce it to a matter of genetics. The attempt to limit wizarding privileges to genetically pure wizards is the very antithesis of good in the books, and is precisely what Harry and friends are set to battle in the persons of Draco Malfoy and Voldermort, who believe that all magical powers should be restricted to wizarding families. It must be supposed that Rowling wishes to fight a genetic theory of magic because she regards it as analogous to a class, caste, or racial theory.

However, having rejected the idea that magical powers might be genetic, Rowling fails to give a coherent meaning to the selection of wizards. She neither invokes a transcendent power nor offers the possibility that magical powers are an act of the human will, although she is otherwise very fond of human will as an explanation of causality. Therefore she is forced to resort to the idea that abilities are merely a matter of chance: some old wizarding families produce non-wizards, and some muggles produce wizards. This method works, but means that the books lose an overall structure of meaning, for magic becomes a manifestation of nature and the ability to control it just a chance.

So where might one find the ultimate meaning of Harry's world? If there is a highest goal or source of good within Harry's society, it might be found in the act of choice and the freedom of will, as these are praised by Rowling as an alternative to Voldemort's insistence on purity of blood. Yet it seems that freedom is limited for it does not explain the chaotic distribution of magical skills that are fundamental to the story.

With such a philosophy, a heavy agnosticism hangs over all of the books. Indeed, at the surface level of the text, there is no God in Harry Potter's world, and I do not think that the word is even present: neither the muggles nor the wizarding community ever mention God in their interactions, which is unsurprising given their historical horizon and the philosophical assumptions that I have already discussed. Everything in the books is immanent, nothing transcendent, and there is no attempt to place Harry's story into a larger picture of good and evil beyond the birth and rise of Voldemort.

In these books, the only character that can be likened to God is that of Dumbledore. When we first meet him, he seems omniscient and omnipotent, the originator of everything that gives meaning to Hogwarts and to the story. He transcends Harry's world and has organised almost everything in it behind the scenes. Yet Dumbledore is not God.  This is demonstrated through the course of the narrative as we discover his murky past, his hiding of the truth, his fallibility, and his mortality. If Dumbledore is the God of Harry's childhood, he becomes an ever more ambiguous figure during Harry's youth, and dies in his adolescence. Once Harry has reached adulthood there is no God figure left in his world.

The most fundamental idea in the Harry Potter books is that parenthood and family represent the ultimate goals of life. The key concepts of good and evil nearly always seem to relate to friendship and the family unit. There is no real system of ethics within Harry's world beyond the goal of preserving one's own family and friends, and it is family life that is presented as the ultimate good or utopia. For Rowling, heaven is described at the end of the last book when she speaks of the adult Harry sending his children off to school: happy, reasonably well off, middle-class, and educated.

If the philosophical assumptions of the books mirror those of society as closely as do the historical and social ones, we face great difficulty in speaking about God to our society. The lack of meaning and purpose, allied with an identification of ultimate good with the good things of this world, make for a vast chasm between the theological language of Christianity and the popular thought of British society. Whether the answer lies in retelling a separate story from that held by society or in translating religious thought into the language of society is a matter of opinion that I leave for others to decide.

 

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