What Does Harry Potter Mean Now? [95:17-100:21]

We see her use her shapeshifting at Bill and Flur's wedding, and she passes these powers on to her son. It never stops being an important part of her identity. And if we resurrect the author for a moment, it's likely Joanne wasn't even aware of genderqueer as a thing when she wrote Tonks. Genderqueer people have always existed, of course, but the idea was only just entering mainstream awareness by the time the book's finished. For a boomer like Joanne, it's more likely she wrote Tonks to evoke punks, probably without realizing the queer associations with that subculture. There are a lot of similar arguments these days, identifying things in Potter which could allegorize trans or queer people in a negative light, like Tonks or Rita Skeeter. Even Voldemort's monstrous transformation could be likened to a transphobes idea of transition. Dumbledore does insist on calling him Tom, which could be seen as dead naming him. These interpretations are valid, but they generally rely on a fairly sophisticated understanding of queer experiences, which I don't believe Joanne has at the time or now. Considering Joanne's track record with clumsy allegories, I don't think we can be certain she did these deliberately. Okay, pretty damning that interpreting transphobic allegories in Joanne's work is still giving her too much credit. Nevertheless, these interpretations aren't coming from nothing. There's a constant tension in Potter between its queer elements and heteronormativity, especially when it comes to the series portrayal of gender. For starters, it's a very male-centered story. Of course, Harry is male, but so are most of the important characters. According to YouTuber Caroline Eism, if you rank the characters by number of mentions, only 28 of the top 100 are female. And most female characters are consigned to roles with less agency and authority. Harry is supported by the dignified wizard Dumbledore and a colorful cast of male characters. Girls, when they're not downright silly or unlikable, are helpers, enablers, and instruments. No girl is brilliantly heroic the way Harry is. No woman is experienced and wise like Professor Dumbledore. Men are headmasters, government officials, and dragon tamers. While women are mothers, housewives, and at best, teachers. Even brilliant Hermione Schuffer observes is usually presented as an irritating bossy know-it-all whose struggles to gain the boys respect. Despite being a fellow Gryffindor, she's not rebellious and daring like the boys are. She's more similar to other female Gryffindors, like Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley in that she's a voice of sensible rule following. This last division illustrates the general message of the series. Men are interesting, women are good. But there are also things which challenge this. Bellatrix and Umbridge aren't mothers or wives, and as villains, they have tremendous agency. And despite Tox's shortcomings, as an aura, she also serves as a role model for Harry. What's more, mothers and housewives are capable of great feats of power. Molly, Fleur and Tox remain active members of the order. And when Bellatrix is defeated, though the natural choice would be an act of vengeance by Harry, Lupin or Neville, it's Molly who does the deed. A mother protecting her daughter is more powerful than the most committed death-eater. Magic is a great equalizer. In the wizarding world, strength and power is determined by magical skill, which is not dependent on gender. Despite drawing on the traditions of British boarding schools, Hogwarts is coed. Even Quidditch, a dangerous contact sport, is played and kept in by both boys and girls together. And Hogwarts generally makes no distinction between witches and wizards. Magical practices that are traditionally feminine, brewing magic potions, growing magic plants, gazing at crystal balls, even flying on broomsticks, are taught to everybody, without gender even being remarked upon. The cross-gendered setting of Hogwarts in the Harry Potter books appears to be both a fantastically post-feminist world where sex is no longer undermines women's power and agency, and one in which post-feminist facade merely camouflages the novel's rather traditional gender roles and its erasure of sexual orientation difference. Tyson Pugh wasn't wrong that Harry's story is heteronormative. He's a traditional Arthurian hero, an ordinary orphan who discovers he's extraordinary, prophesied to rise from obscurity to greatness. He follows the hero's journey, taking him from boyhood to manhood, surpassing his mentors to become the masculine ideal the world needs, the perfect man who can defeat the great evil single-handed. Harry, to you that has to go on, I know it. Not me, not Hermione, you. However, as academic Zimena Galardo C and C. Jason Smith observe,