Harry's story also resembles feminine fairy tales, most notably Cinderella. Not only because both characters are whisked away from domesticity to a world of magic and adventure, but also because that transformation is cyclical. Unlike Arthurian stories, both must periodically leave the magical world behind and return to the drudgery of home as if it never happened. Appearing within a traditionally feminine narrative structure, Harry, in essence, is a boy caught in a girl's story. Harry Potter, genderqueer icon? I mean, kind of. Harry's body is inhabited by both the feminine soul of his mother's sacrifice and the masculine soul of Voldemort's curse. He's positioned between Ron and Hermione, who respectively represent masculine and feminine impulses. And despite being a male hero, it is the feminine choices Harry is most often rewarded for. He does not succumb to his masculine desire to kill serious to avenge his parents, and is rewarded with the truth and a godfather. He repeatedly opts for the defensive expelliarmous spell, a decision the order criticises, and yet it's this spell which finally destroys Voldemort. By contrast, masculine impulses are often punished, sneaking out of bed to duel Draco, winning the tri-wizard tournament, rushing to the ministry to save serious. Ultimately, both impulses are required to defeat Voldemort. Harry wins mastery over the hall cruxers through active pursuit and self-sacrifice, and wins mastery over the halos through inactive resistance to power. The best we can say about the portrayal of gender in Potter is that it's conflicted between queerness and normativity, between feminism and conservatism. In other words, between radicalism and traditionalism. Galadocie and Smith end their second essay with two interpretations of the series' epilogue. The first mirrors Bronsky's view that it's a heteronormative restoration of the nuclear family, a typical happily ever after return to traditional values. The second observes that while Ron continues to uphold the rivalry between houses, the lesson Harry imparts to his son is essentially a rejection of dividing binaries. Galadocie and Smith express their preference for the latter, but cannot resolve this conflict. Both interpretations are correct. So, if there's no wrong answer, do we just get to choose which we like best? No, we choose which one is true. We can't just ignore the book's flaws because they're inconvenient to our preferred reading, but we also can't ignore all the other meanings in Potter. There's stuff in there which stands in direct opposition to the politics Joanne upholds now. Those meanings are the ones I like. That's what makes this story important to me. And I don't think we should give Joanne the power to take that away. If you found anything in these stories that resonated with you and helped you at any time in your life, then that is between you and the book that you read and it is sacred. And in my opinion, nobody can touch that. It means to you what it means to you. And I hope that Rowling's comments will not taint that too much. Well, maybe that works for an individual interpretation, but the question is, what do we do with Potter? Joanne may not get to decide what Potter means for you, but who decides what it means for all of us?
{# E23 (Nick, ruling section 1 answer 10): quoting a bill or a court opinion works
the way quoting a news article works. Select a passage above and the same panel
opens: the passage goes to the official you choose, with this document's own
address as its source and its own type. #}