GOF Chapter 3: The Invitation

[oryx_leucoryx]

This is the obligatory Dursley chapter, in which we are treated to the home life of this family and learn how inferior they are to wizard families.

Dudley takes up a whole side of the square kitchen table. Ahem, I doubt a square kitchen table (as opposed to a dining room table) was designed to seat 8 people, 2 on a side. His parents excuse away his teachers' accusations of bullying. As opposed to the Weasleys who never receive reports making such heinous accusations against the twins (we'll see the school does occasionally owl their parents, but I don't see any awareness that some of what the twins do is bullying behavior). (This starts the theme of parents dealing with wayward sons in this book.) Dudley is forced into a diet of fruit and vegetables rather than his favorites. From the descriptions we get of the food Harry eats at Hogwarts I get the feeling Harry's favorites are closer to Dudley's than to the health foods, nor does he limit his intake. But somehow Harry remains thin, regardless of whether he gets starved by Petunia or stuffed by Molly or the House-elves.

Changing the food choices of the entire family is a good thing! However adjusting Harry's serving size to Dudley's (perceived?) emotional needs isn't. I don't begrudge Harry for working around a diet he doesn't need, but then I also sympathize with Dudley who does. Changing eating habits of years is hard.
This is also the place to say Dudley must have grown up as an emotional wreck. Knowing that his parents were capable of such physical and emotional deprivation of someone in their care - what if he ever failed to please them? I think a big part of his misbehavior is both making sure his parents know he *isn't* Harry as well as wanting the reassurance that they still love him, no matter what anyone else thinks.

Of Harry's 4 sources of help only one sends food he appreciates. Odd that even Hagrid managed to send an edible birthday cake. But how edible is it (or any of the others) 3 weeks later?

Harry is surprised that the Weasleys wrote directly to the Dursleys. Vernon is embarrassed that they didn't know how many stamps to use. But really, how hard is it to find out? Didn't they go to the post office to buy the stamps? What does it say about the exchange rate between Galleons and pounds that a family so poor finds it reasonable to spend on so many stamps for one letter? Molly's letter sounds as if she is trying too hard to make the Quidditch World Cup sound special and to make Arthur sound important. And of course she doesn't have enough imagination to realize that sending a letter by owl isn't normal for the Dursleys.

Harry is offended on Molly's behalf when Vernon calls her 'dumpy'. Since Molly likes Harry nobody is allowed to notice she is overweight.

I must say that the scene where Harry threatens Vernon with Sirius looks a lot less humorous now that I have seen Harry enjoy torturing a man for punishment, and Sirius engaging in Muggle-baiting.

If I am correct in my understanding that Ron is claiming that he and Molly wrote their respective letters at about the same time, then I am impressed with the UK post. Molly's letter arrived on Saturday morning. Pig arrived the same morning. Considering the speed of owls elsewhere, it looks as though Ron's letter was sent earlier that morning. So a letter got delivered the morning it was sent?

I am less impressed with the Weasleys. They plan on taking Harry regardless of the Dursleys' consent. One could argue that eventually Molly and Arthur realized their sons were not exaggerating when they said Harry had been imprisoned and starved, but seeing how Arthur views the treatment of Muggles, both in this book and in COS, I doubt this made a difference.

Harry is happy specifically because Dudley is suffering and he isn't. The seeds of the bully of HBP and war criminal of DH.

Comments

[ioanna-ioannina.livejournal.com]

Yeees, the drills! We had them, too. But our teachers were like "Damned drills, we should be doing something reasonable instead," so we knew there was no danger around. :-DD

[majorjune.livejournal.com]

Yeees, the drills! We had them, too. But our teachers were like "Damned drills, we should be doing something reasonable instead," so we knew there was no danger around. :-DD

The first drill I remember was when I was in first grade (6 y.o.); my school was of the typical style built after WW2, mostly steel and glass. Our "desks" were really a piece of molded plywood for the seat, with hollow metal tubes for the legs, and two hollow metal tubes on the right side to which was attached the plywood writing surface. Underneath this was a bin/shelf made of thin metal where you could store your pencils, papers, dictionary, etc.

My first grade classroom had a bank of windows, almost from floor to ceiling, on the left side of the room. For the drill, the teacher closed the venetian blinds over the windows, made us crouch into a ball under our desks with our fingers clasped behind our necks, and then she turned off the lights.

Even at the age of six, I knew those flimsy "desks" didn't afford any protection, that venetian blinds weren't going to keep shattered glass from flying into us, and that shutting off the room lights only made a scary experience more terrifying.

And like I said, at that age it's hard for a child to understand that we're only "pretending", especially since we had to maintain that uncomfortable position for 20 minutes (because we were told that it would take Russian bombers 18 minutes to reach our state -- this was before ICBMs).

At the end of the drill I actually raised my hand and asked the teacher how what we had just done would save us from a bomb, since our desks weren't really desks, and we were exposed to the windows which would shatter.

In the 1980s when I was involved in antinuke groups I found out just how lame and bizarre the government's various plans to deal with nuclear war were (and still are -- I remember a FEMA representative back then telling me that even tho the "Duck and Cover" plan of the Reagan era may not work well in the event of nuclear war, it was still a valuable plan for natural disasters like hurricanes. We asked him if he'd actually READ all of the booklet -- he hadn't -- and we informed him that no, even in the case of a hurricane it wouldn't work because they hadn't addressed the issue of evacuating hospitals and nursing homes, prisons, what to do if people wanted to take their pets, what to do when you have hundreds of thousands of vehicles on the road and some start breaking down or running out of gas, etc. Sadly, Hurricane Katrina in 2005 graphically demonstrated that 20 years later, FEMA hadn't learned anything)...

Well apparently some desk jockey back in the late 50s -- who obviously was an alumnus of older schools that were built out of stone or brick and had desks that were real desks (back in those days, they also tended to be out of oak, so they were quite substantial) -- decided that if Russians decided to bomb the U.S. during the school day, that schools should have their students duck under their desks and wait for the bombs to drop. And in that era, just after the McCarthy era, school administrators wouldn't question the instructions from the government.

So no adult that worked at my school ever asked the question: "Is this really going to work?" when they got the order to conduct A-bomb drills, they just got a booklet that said "Have the students curl into a ball under their desks", and followed the directions without question.

I don't know if I was the only one to point out the absurdity, but a couple of weeks later we had another drill, but this time they had us go into the hallway and curl into a ball against the lockers. Still had to maintain that pose for 20 minutes, at the end a lot of kids were crying because they didn't understand it was a drill, they thought it was real.

That was the last drill; I think the teachers (and probably quite a few parents) thought that it was too traumatizing for the children to continue the drills. But like I said, in October 1962 we had to go thru the drill again.

Yep, it was just like in the movie "Atomic Cafe", we clasped our hands behind our necks, curled into balls, and kissed ourselves goodbye! :-P

[ioanna-ioannina.livejournal.com]

We had a modern building, too. We were going to the basement, where were windows covered by violet paper to protect us against ultra-violet light. Stupid, yes. There were no curling, because the basement was full - every single student plus teachers were there. It was not so scary, though. We asked, whether this could work, too, and they told us better to ask at home (nobody dared to say it was very stupid "protection", too). My Granpa told me: "If you can see an atomic explosion, you are dead. Deal with it. Of course you can go to the basement, but it works only against normal bombs, on condition that the building is strong enough and is not hit itself. Yes, and don´t tell your mother I told you, she thinks you are too young for this info - as if she were any older during the World War, herself..."

Maybe the main difference is that our people use to make jokes, when the situation is unbearable. So I remember the basement, and that everybody knew it was stupid, and that everybody was joking about it, because there was nothing else to do... Maybe that is why it was not so scary for us - much more like some stupid game...

I remember the 20 minutes, too. And kissing goodbye. :-)) "Well, children, the bombs are here now, the city is flat, but we survived, go back to your classes." -- "But isn´t there a radiation in the class?" -- "Yes, it would be, but the school is in the middle of the town, so we would be dead, anyway. Go back to work."

There were some emergency plans from WWII that worked (not against atomic bombs, though), because people remembered it. But still, who was it, who said people learn to defend against weapons from the last war, which is of no use, when there are new weapons?

I feared that it would be all the world what would be destroyed; that there would remain no life on the Earth. I feared most for the trees (weird, yes). My Granpa was telling me this was so scary a scenario that nobody would really start it, but even he was not sure. (But he was right, in the end, and thanks for it.)

[majorjune.livejournal.com]

We had a modern building, too. We were going to the basement, where were windows covered by violet paper to protect us against ultra-violet light.

There was no basement in my school, so that's why they eventually settled on the hallway as a better option than the classroom.

My Granpa told me: "If you can see an atomic explosion, you are dead. Deal with it.

During the Cuban Missile Crisis, we knew the missiles in Cuba could not reach us, the fear was that if war broke out, the Russians would send bombers.

At the age of nine, the only thing I understood about bombs is what I'd seen in movies and on TV, and that was primarily WW2 era, a plane would fly over the target and drop a bomb on it.

I remember one recess period right when things were reaching a crisis, we children didn't even play during recess, rather we stood around discussing whether we were going to die within the next day or two or not, and I kept saying I didn't know why the Russians would want to fly over our town and bomb it.

We finally realized that we were late to return to class from recess, but when we looked we saw our teacher just sitting on the back steps, watching us, not saying a word. So we went up to her, and I asked, "Miss Wallace, why should we worry about the Russians bombing our town?"

Now when I got older I realized that not only did we have a major factory in town that manufactured aircraft engines for the military, but we were also the home of Sikorsky Helicopters, so my town actually was a valid military target.

But that wasn't my teacher's answer; she very seriously answered: "Because we're halfway between New York City and New London, and the radiation that will result when they get bombed will kill us."

I knew about New York City, it's where we got most of our television channels in those days before cable and satellite TV, and my grandparents had taken my sister and me down to the city the summer before, so to me it was that big city that was FAR to the west. I didn't know anything about New London, our teacher explained that it was about as far to the east from us as NYC was to the west, and that it was the location of the National Coast Guard base, plus they made nuclear submarines for the Navy there.

So then I was even MORE upset, the idea that what I had to worry about wasn't some aircraft flying directly over me and dropping a bomb on my head, but that my town wouldn't get bombed at all, but that we'd all end dying due to nuclear radiation because we were between two targets that WOULD be bombed...

Maybe the main difference is that our people use to make jokes, when the situation is unbearable. So I remember the basement, and that everybody knew it was stupid, and that everybody was joking about it, because there was nothing else to do... Maybe that is why it was not so scary for us - much more like some stupid game...

I don't remember anyone making jokes about it back in those days. Bomb shelters were quite the thing back then, many people either built separate shelters in their backyards (actually UNDER their backyards), or spent a lot of money modifying their basements to allegedly withstand nuclear attack.

My parents didn't do that, they never even bothered with bomb drills in the basement. They never talked about it, but they probably understood the futility of such exercises.

But still, who was it, who said people learn to defend against weapons from the last war, which is of no use, when there are new weapons?

Here the saying is that generals are always fighting the last war...

Which is basically true. They learn lessons from the previous war, and expect them to apply to the current situation. Which usually results in disaster.

[ioanna-ioannina.livejournal.com]

Here it was like: "Why should they bomb us?" -- "They don´t need a reason. They can just miss a bit. A few hundred kilometers here or there, who of them cares? We are between them. If anybody is stupid enough to hit the Big Read Button of Doom, well, goodbye, good old republic, it was nice to know you." It was like this all the time I remember until the end of the Cold War.

(In fact, it was equally possible for us to be hit by Russians as by Americans. The Americans could do it as our enemies, the Russians to create a radioactive zone in the middle of the Europe... And we did not have any real means to fight back.)

War is stupid. :-)) And trying to manipulate people with fear is even more stupid. :-)) I´m glad it is over.

And yes, the bit with taxes is good, too.

[majorjune.livejournal.com]

I remember the 20 minutes, too. And kissing goodbye. :-)) "Well, children, the bombs are here now, the city is flat, but we survived, go back to your classes." -- "But isn´t there a radiation in the class?" -- "Yes, it would be, but the school is in the middle of the town, so we would be dead, anyway. Go back to work."

During the Reagan era, one of the government's bright ideas about "surviving" a nuclear holocaust was to require banks to maintain mortgage records offsite at a secure location like Iron Mountain. This was in conjunction with government agencies keeping their tax records at a secure location, also.

The idea -- and I was actually part of a team at the bank I worked for at that time that tested this out -- was that after the last bomb was dropped, that tax bills could be mailed out as soon as possible...

Your home probably would have been annihilated in the nuclear blast, but rest assured your local and state governments would expect you to still pay taxes on it! :-P