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Yet if that was Rowling’s intent, why didn’t it work for me once I looked more closely at the characters? Why did her assertion that Lily could possibly have chosen Severus fall flat, and why do I have trouble believing in James’s reformation?
*
The problem is, James Potter was no Darcy. Nor was Severus another Wickham. And that in turn made Lily no Lizzie when she chose the one over the other.
The first issue I have with reading James as Darcy could, if it stood by itself, simply be an example of Rowling’s recurring “tell don’t show” problem. Seeing is believing. Austen showed us Darcy’s reformation; she showed him exerting himself to be polite to people whom previously he would have ignored or scorned. Austen showed too Lizzie’s astonishment at the change:
“Why is he so altered? From what can it proceed? It cannot be for me, it cannot be for my sake that his manners are thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not work such a change as this. It is impossible that he should still love me.” (P&P, III: I)
Rowling, in contrast, had James’s two best friends (hardly unprejudiced witnesses) assure Harry that James had changed—but we readers were never shown ANY example of James’s “after” behavior that solidly demonstrated James’s newfound humility and maturity. In fact, the prequel instead showed James and Sirius behaving much the same as ever.
That, if it stood by itself, could just indicate that Rowling expected us to take her (or Sirius and Remus’s) word for it. Which, way back when I felt I could trust Rowling’s moral judgment, was okay if artistically unsatisfying. However, once I realized I was dealing with an author who thought using the Cruciatus could ever be excused as gallant (IOIAGDI), that didn’t work so well. I wanted to see how post-reformation James had ACTED, to judge his behavior for myself. And she didn’t show us.
The second problem can’t be explained away as artistic misjudgment on Rowling’s part. Austen’s Darcy changed his behavior, not in hopes of influencing Lizzie, but because he accepted her reproofs as justified. He expected never to see Lizzie again. Darcy altered his behavior rather in the hope of making himself a person who would in principle merit Lizzie’s esteem, than in the hope of changing Lizzie’s actual opinion.
Darcy explicitly said as much to Lizzie. However, readers were not required to take Fitzwilliam’s word for this. Darcy had earlier tried (to Lizzie) to excuse his incivility to strangers as being due to innate lack of ability at seeming interested in their concerns—and Lizzie had retorted that she didn’t blame her lack of mastery of the piano on lack of ability, but on not taking the trouble to practice enough.
So the mere fact that Darcy was able to demonstrate mastery of the art of conversing politely with the Gardiners in front of Lizzie proves that he must have been at pains at practicing the uncongenial exercise ‘being polite to strangers’ during the intervening months when he’d expected never again to see her.
Darcy didn’t change to impress Lizzie. He changed because he acknowledged that Lizzie’s rebukes had been well-founded, and he wanted to be a better man, to live up to Lizzie’s standards. Even though Darcy thought that Lizzie would never learn of his changed behavior, and thus would never alter her previous (and justified) bad opinion of him.
James, however, did the EXACT opposite. He changed his behavior in front of Lily (and in front of authorities whose reports on his behavior might get back to Lily), but his friends admitted that he continued his previous misbehavior behind her back.
It is canon that James continued hexing at least one person, Severus, and concealed this from Lily when she believed that he’d stopped entirely. As others have pointed out, the Head Boy had no need to resort to hexes to defend himself from Snape’s attacks, if the problem were simply that Snape had started egregiously attacking James. The Head Boy could simply have taken points from the offender, and let Slytherin House put pressure on the miscreant. So even if Severus were instigating their brawls by then, James was hexing by preference, not necessity.
Moreover, the fact that James COULD conceal his hexes so entirely from his girlfriend suggests that it was, at least much of the time, the person who had an invisibility cloak, the Marauder’s Map, and a rat Animagus lookout, who picked the fights. Severus had neither any motive nor any known means of keeping their continued hex-war a secret from Lily. In fact, had Severus known Lily admired James for having stopped hexing others, that she thought that this showed maturity and restraint on James’s part, he had a strong motive for the exact opposite, for making sure that Lily had occasion to see James preferring to resort to violence instead of point-taking when provoked.
But if James was picking the venue of their “fights,” he had to have been the instigator, at least some of the time. At the best, he might have been “maturely” taking points from Snape in public when Snape hexed him—and then privately “getting him back” later. (As Lupin admitted, “… you couldn’t really expect James to take that lying down, could you?” (OotP, XXIX)) At the worst, James might have been continuing to instigate most of their encounters as he did with the one we witnessed in OotP: using the map and cloak to ambush Snape, possibly with benefit of superior numbers, and enjoying Snape’s furious and humiliated attempts to defend himself against superior firepower. While letting Lily think that James had given up all such pleasures.
So James, unlike Darcy, never felt that his initial behavior was truly wrong and that he ought to live up to Lily’s standards—just that it was impolitic to let Lily observe him behaving in certain ways.
He didn’t truly change; he manipulated Lily into thinking he’d changed, in order to manipulate her feelings about him.
He assumed the semblance of virtue, rather than becoming virtuous. Which is rather more the behavior of a Wickham than a Darcy.
Or to invoke another literary reference—consider Les liaisons dangereuses. The wicked Vicomte de Valmont decided to seduce a virtuous [rigidly moral yet very tenderhearted] woman, so he started ostentatiously to behave in a manner that led her to conclude that the Vicomte had secretly reformed his behavior under the influence of his overwhelming, unrequited love for her…. No, I don’t actually think that James was that cynical.
The third problem I have is, in P&P both protagonists have a moral journey to make before they can meet as lovers. Darcy’s half was to admit that he had not been behaving as a true gentleman ought, and to regulate his pride and temper and start treating his ‘inferiors’ better. We saw that James did not truly do that—he just cheated and said he had. But Austen’s Lizzie had her part, too: to swallow her own pride in her superior intellect/judgment and admit that her prejudices had led her previously to misjudge Darcy.
The problem here is, Austen very carefully established that Lizzie HAD previously misjudged Darcy, that Darcy was in truth a better man than Lizzie had originally given him credit for. First there was the letter, overturning all Lizzie’s ideas about Darcy’s treatment of Wickham—and establishing further that his motives in separating Jane and Bingley were more creditable than Lizzie had supposed. (If Darcy had been right [which he was not] in his reading of Jane’s character, that she was encouraging Bingley’s courtship without feeling a reciprocal passion, then Jane would have been accepting Bingley’s attentions from the exact motive that made Charlotte accept Mr. Collins’: “a pure and disinterested desire of an establishment.” What friend would let his best friend marry such a woman without trying to stop him?)
But further, Austen established that Darcy, outside of Lizzie’s view, was both conscientious in the performance of the duties his privileged position gave him and consistently kind to those in his power. He was a responsible landowner, a considerate master to his servants, and a caring guardian to his sister. His position gave him power over others (servants, sister, tenants), and he wielded that power carefully and with attention to the feelings of those who would have been nearly helpless had he chosen to abuse his position. Not only his friends, family, and housekeeper said so; Mrs. Gardiner’s disinterested (in fact hostile-to-Darcy) sources affirmed that Darcy “was a liberal man and did much good among the poor.”(P&P, III, II)
So Lizzie had been wrong about Darcy’s general character, even if his behavior in front of her had been rude and inconsiderate, fully earning her disapprobation. Austen showed us that Darcy was in substance good, even when his arrogance and inconsideration had led him to act in a manner unworthy of his better self. So for Lizzie to forgive him, admire him, and come to love him, was a merited reward. And it required her first to get over herself, to give up her mistaken belief in the infallibility of her own ‘First Impressions’.
So: had Lily been misjudging James, accusing him unjustly, and did it show her better judgment when she came instead to accept and love him?
What, precisely, did Rowling tell us James was doing outside of Lily’s view? How was James using his position and his talents? Like Darcy, James had unusual power and privilege; how did he use it?
Er. Um.
James used his illegal Animagus ability to loose a werewolf on unsuspecting villagers—getting his thrills out of endangering the lives of strangers. If one accepts the Prequel as canon, he used his magical abilities to lead the police on a wild-goose speeding chase (endangering them and every Muggle on the streets that night), then taunted them and destroyed their property. He used lethal force against his broom-riding pursuers—with that trademark Marauder overlay of “humor”. Wasn’t it FUNNY to see the people chasing him smash at high speed into the fat, stupid policemen’s car? That was straight out of the Roadrunner cartoons. (Of course, outside of cartoons such an impact would break the pursuers’ necks and/or smash their skulls. You’ll note that James and Sirius didn’t pause to examine the bodies of their victims.)
And we know that James used his position as Head Boy to continue his sport of Snape-baiting—possibly even Snape-hunting.
We never once are shown James using his position as a wizard or a rich man to help those he considered “beneath” him. We are told (not shown) that he did help his closest friends. What we were shown, however, repeatedly, was James enjoying inflicting pain and humiliation on lesser beings, and endangering friends, enemies, and bystanders for his own entertainment. (Loosing the werewolf endangered his friend Lupin as well as the villagers—at the very least, it made it much more likely that Lupin’s secret would be guessed.)
We don’t ever see James the teen acting kindly, or responsibly, or considerately, when out of Lily’s view. Or, indeed, at all.
Now consider how people spoke of James to his son. He was a hero/martyr in the fight against Voldemort; there is a statue to the Holy Family in Godric’s Hollow, for crying out loud. So what did people say about him? How did they praise the young hero to his orphaned son? Who came shouldering up to Harry in the Leaky to brag about being at school with the great James Potter? Who took on Augusta Longbottom’s role with Neville, reminding Harry that he ought to try to live up to his martyred father’s memory?
Well, er, no one.
They tried not to bring him up, most of them. Nil nisi…. Minerva told Harry, once, that James had been a great Quidditch player and would have been proud to see Harry the same. Out of Harry’s earshot (she thought) she described James as bright but a great troublemaker, and called him the “ringleader” of a “gang”—the same words used by Dumbledore of Tom Riddle and by Harry of Dudley.
Should the reader find these reassuring parallels?
Note too that Sirius and James were described as a matched set—and that while people were shocked that Sirius should have betrayed his great friend James, no one had any trouble at all believing Sirius capable of the mass murder of innocent bystanders.
We know that what Dumbledore told Harry about James was wholly disingenuous, deliberately intended to mislead without overtly lying. (In comparing the Snape/James enmity to the Harry/Draco one, he knew that Harry would NOT take from the comparison the thought that James might have been an arrogant pureblood who had gathered a gang to pick on his halfblood rival unremittingly. And the version of the Prank Dumbledore gave Harry first year was an absolute masterpiece.) Since Dumbledore was encouraging Harry to mold himself into what Harry chose to believe his father to have been (brave, flinging himself into danger without counting the cost, loyal, and self-sacrificing), we can’t count on anything Dumbledore said as reflecting his real opinion of James.
Sirius and Remus, of course, whitewashed James’s behavior (and their own) and tried to excuse it when Harry revealed that when he’d actually seen an example of his father’s behavior, he found it unacceptable.
Hagrid was the only non-Marauder to wax (nonspecifically) enthusiastic over James—and as Hagrid was also the one we watched cooing to a (female) baby dragon spitting flame at him, “Norbert! Where’s Mommy?” Hagrid’s judgment must be deeply suspect.
So readers are not given anything to base Lily’s turnaround on, except that James, according to his best friends, “deflated his head.” The only other possible explanation from canon is that Lily, like Lizzie, melted towards her arrogant suitor when she realized he’d undergone significant unpleasantness to rescue someone he despised—for (perhaps) her sake.
Perhaps Lily took James saving her friend Severus’s life to be a noble, courageous, and unselfish action.
Only problem with that is, we the readers, unlike Lily, know that Prongs risked nothing in doing it. He could have transformed into his deer form and been safe from Moony—true, Prongs could not have run in the tunnel as described, but he didn’t need to—Moony didn’t attack Animagi in their animal forms, only humans. So it required no courage or self-sacrifice on James’s part to enter that tunnel.
Furthermore, we know—as Lily very evidently did not—that two of James’s closest friends were at risk of expulsion or Azkaban had Sirius’s “joke” succeeded in killing Severus. (That’s assuming, charitably, that Severus was wrong in thinking James had had a hand in planning the “joke” with Sirius; if Severus was right that James were an accessory before the fact, then if proved, James might have joined Sirius in expulsion and wand-breaking, and/or a life sentence to Azkaban. Setting a lethal monster upon fellow students, when known, isn’t taken lightly.)
Moreover, any serious investigation (say under Ministry Veritaserum) would most likely have revealed James’s own independent criminal activities (being an unregistered Animagus is a criminal offense, and loosing a Class XXXXX creature upon Hogwarts and Hogsmeade is, in fact, the very crime for which fourteen-year-old Hagrid had been expelled from Hogwarts and had his wand broken). So we the readers know that saving Severus was probably in James’s own self-interest, and was certainly necessary to protect both Sirius and Remus.
So the only incident that JKR actually gives us that could have significantly changed Lily’s impression of James, would have been based on Lily’s FALSE interpretation of James’s motivations. And on her refusing to listen to her supposed “best friend” when he tried haltingly to enlighten her.
Lizzie’s re-evaluation of Darcy was based on her realization that she’d previously misjudged him; Lily’s of James, quite possibly, on starting to misjudge him. Opposites, in fact.
*
Which takes us to the next problem in comparing James and Darcy, the biggest of all: how do James’s flaws compare to Darcy’s, and Lily’s reproof to Lizzie’s?
Lizzie accused Darcy of two specific offenses. The first was that he had been “the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister,” (P&P, II:XI) the second that he had “in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the immediate prosperity and blasted the prospects of Mr. Wickham.” (P&P, II: XII)
But Lizzie made also the following general criticism:
“… your manners impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form that ground-work of disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike….” (P&P, II: XI)
Darcy could refute the specific accusations, but her general criticism he eventually accepted: “For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”
Darcy’s fundamental flaw was improper pride, and the misbehavior which he subsequently corrected was lack of consideration for the feelings of those he felt to be beneath him. (Note that his supposed crimes against Jane and Wickham both fell into this category: Lizzie thought that he broke Jane’s heart, and ruined Wickham’s life, because he thought them socially beneath him and because he could. Instead, Darcy mistakenly thought Jane, and correctly judged Wickham, to have no feelings that could merit his—or anyone’s—consideration.)
JKR seems to think that this was James’s fundamental flaw as well. On those occasions when she allowed James to be criticized by any character in text the key word was always arrogant: Snape (“as arrogant as your father” PoA), Lily (“arrogant toerag” OotP, SWM, and DH, TPT), distraught Harry (“judging from what he had just seen, his father had been every bit as arrogant as Snape had always told him.”OotP, SWM)
Now, no reader could deny that James in SWM exhibited “arrogance,… conceit, and …selfish disdain of the feelings of others.”
But were those the only, or worst, flaws that James there exhibited?
Here are Lily’s criticisms of James:
“You think you’re funny,” she said coldly. “But you’re just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter.”
“You’re as bad as he is.…”
“Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you’ve just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can—I’m surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.” (OotP, “SWM”- XXVIII)
The problem here is that Rowling and I seem to disagree on what were the worst flaws James Potter really exhibited in SWM (and elsewhere).
And that Lily apparently agreed with Rowling fatally diminishes Lily in my eyes.
Trying to look cool, showing off with the snitch, hexing people “because he can”—what made Lily “sick” was apparently that James was a conceited show-off who had the gall to expect her to be an automatic member of the Potter fan club.
Not that James was a sadistic jerk who was “using his magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control” [HBP, “The Secret Riddle”].
James Potter’s “instincts for cruelty, secrecy, and domination” [ibid.], were nearly as marked as those of an earlier dark-haired Head Boy-to-be. And that didn’t bother JKR, and it apparently didn’t bother Lily.
Now, Lily didn’t know all of James’s misbehavior. She didn’t know, as we do (and as JKR does), that James, like Tom Riddle, repeatedly let loose, for his own amusement, a monster which could kill most people it encountered (but which HE could control). Lily didn’t know that James was an illegal Animagus. She didn’t know that James was the creator of the Marauder’s Map, which enabled the holder to ambush other students and to evade authority figures. She didn’t know that James had an invisibility cloak, or think how that could be used, again, to set ambushes and escape detection in wrongdoing.
She didn’t know that James, like Tom was the leader of a gang which was attacking people on the quiet, under the radar of the authority.
But what she did know, what she witnessed for herself, she criticized for the wrong reasons.
Let’s put this in context.
Suppose I, at age sixteen, witnessed a gang of my schoolmates (led by a pair of rich, upper-class jocks) publicly beat up a loner from the wrong side of the tracks. They overwhelmed him with superior numbers, immobilized him, stripped him to his underwear and threatened to bare his genitals, and held his face in a bucket of soapy water while he fought, gagged, and struggled to breathe.
My first condemnation of the gang leader (assuming I had had the courage to try to intervene—perhaps not a justified assumption) would not have been, “You think you’re funny,” nor my final judgment that the gang leader had a “fat head.”
I would have thought the gang leader a sickeningly brutal little thug. Arrogant, yes, that too: he clearly thought that Daddy’s wealth and influence and his own popularity would let him get away such an attack in public. And in the actual case in question James was, of course, absolutely correct in thinking this. But what would have bothered me far worse than the arrogance would have been the viciousness—the indulgence of those obvious instincts for cruelty and domination.
Furthermore, Lily was, after all, the queen of judging (and discarding) people by the insults they used under stress. So what insult did she use to/of James, twice, in canon? “Arrogant toerag.” That’s actually a fascinating epithet to apply to James, because “toerag” denoted someone too poor to afford shoes, a vagrant or criminal who had to wrap their feet in rags. A lower class person. So the worst insult Lily could think of to hurl (as Severus’s was “Mudblood”) was to accuse someone of being lower class—an epithet utterly worthy of Petunia’s sister.
That insult was clearly misapplied to James in a literal sense: his social status was as high as it could be in the WW, much higher than hers. It’s worth noting, however, that if social standing were what Lily cared most about, as her choice of insults seemed to indicate, Severus was quadruply inferior to James: in the Muggle world for being “from Spinner’s End” rather than rich, in the general WW for being (like Lily) the son of a Muggle, among the Hogwarts students for being an unpopular geek rather than a Quidditch star, and in the eyes of Lily’s Gryffindor housemates for being a stinking Slytherin (JKR carefully shows us three generations of Gryffs telling each other that Slytherins are innately inferior: Hagrid to Harry, James on the train, and the Trio to Neville).
But of course the flip side of Lily’s calling James a toerag was: there is an upper-middle-class sensibility which does regard (excessively overt) parading of oneself as déclassé. So one might read “you’re an arrogant toerag” as modern slang for the reproof “you are behaving in an ungentleman-like manner.”
So Lily’s criticisms (like Lizzie’s to Darcy) gave James pointers on what he would have to do to win her approbation: stop expressing his overweening self-satisfaction so openly and tone down on the showing off (both with the Quidditch-star posing and the hexing).
But unlike Lizzie’s criticism of Darcy, there was nothing in there at all about starting to show consideration for the feelings of others.
And yet James, unlike Darcy, had shown himself to be a sadist, keenly savoring humiliating and physically hurting others.
Canon Darcy was rude and cold to people he considered beneath them, but we never saw him physically attack anyone. Moreover, his wit was exercised at other people’s expense, but not, apparently, expressly for the purpose of hurting their feelings.
Contrast Darcy to Severus in this—Snape (like James) appeared to Harry to register and relish the reaction of his targets.
Darcy amused himself by passing sarcastic comments on his inferiors, but in indifference of the reception of his insults. Darcy’s barbs often, like Mr. Bennet’s to his wife, went over his victims’ heads:
“[Darcy] paid me the compliment of saying, that he was so well convinced of Lady Catherine’s discernment as to be certain she could never bestow a favor unworthily.” (Mr. Collins exulting in Darcy’s reception of him, P&P, I, XVIII). Or Darcy would insult someone absent with no expectation (or intention) that the insult might be relayed. “She a beauty!—I should as soon call her mother a wit.” (P&P, III, III)
And certainly in his first proposal to Lizzie Darcy didn’t expect that his “honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design” might be received by his intended as showing “so evident a design of offending and insulting me.”(P&P, II, XI).
Darcy, in short, showed “disdain of the feelings of others,” as Lizzie charged. But he didn’t set out specifically to hurt others for his pleasure. Others’ humiliation was a side-effect of the exercise of his wit (one he could be trained out of—“If he did roll his eyes, it was not until Sir William was absent”), not his goal. Lily’s two suitors, James and Severus, in contrast, showed active relish in hurting the feelings of others—both apparently enjoyed verbally attacking others, and James also clearly relished inflicting physical pain and humiliation.
So Lily, unlike Lizzie, apparently found a cruel streak to be acceptable in her suitors.
Indeed, the ethos of Gryffindor house seems to be that hurting people is not just acceptable, but commendable—so long as the victims could be claimed to “deserve” it. Look at the vicious way Fred and George treated Dudley at the beginning of GoF, and Draco and his friends at its end.
Or consider the fallout from Sectumsempra in HBP. McGonagall told Harry that he was lucky not to have been expelled, and Pansy Parkinson vilified Harry far and wide (but who cared about her opinion?). But Harry’s housemates? They were angry that Harry had done something that gave Snape an excuse to ban him from the final Quidditch game. And that did seem to be the light in which they, and Harry, regarded attempted evisceration. Ginny even said that Hermione “should be glad Harry had something good up his sleeve!” (Because Expelliarmus, Stupefy, and Impedimenta are so ineffective at neutralizing an opponent without harm, yes.)
Others have commented what it says about Hogwarts if, as JKR would have us believe, a mere few days after Harry had almost killed Draco everyone was more interested in gossiping about his love life than his crime. “After all, it made a very nice change to be talked about because of something that was making him happier… rather than because he had been involved [as perpetrator] in horrific scenes of Dark Magic.” However, given that Harry was Bubble Boy, who the year before didn’t even RECOGNIZE, still less know the names of, some of his (thirty—really not an excessive number) classmates from other houses, all that we can really infer is that GRYFFINDORS found Harry’s love life more interesting than his crime against Draco. (The only gossiper mentioned by name was Romilda Vane, Gryffindor.)
Now let’s circle back to consider Lily—who (unlike Hermione, who objected to the Prince’s humor) was placed instantaneously in Gryffindor. And whose sister (family members often share the same underlying values) clearly felt that neglecting and verbally abusing a child was an acceptable thing to do, so long as the toddler “deserved” it (in Harry’s case, for being a magic-wielding freak).
What was it that Lily asked James, again, at the very beginning of her gracious intervention in SWM? Oh, yeah. “What’s he done to you?”
Wait a minute. Saint Lily the prefect has just witnessed several students gang up to attack another who’d previously been doing nothing except quietly reviewing his test answers. This gang disarmed the other student, viciously insulted him, immobilized him, stripped him nearly naked, and waterboarded him. The gang, moreover, was already notorious for attacking “anyone who annoys you … just because you can”. Yet Lily’s response was to imply that if James could give her an answer that established to her satisfaction that Sev “deserved” it in some way, she would just walk away and leave the Marauders to their fun?
Well, yes.
After all, that’s exactly what she DID do when Sev insulted her, didn’t she? The prefect flounced away after getting her own verbal dig in at the victim, leaving the criminals free to do anything they wanted.
So cruelty and violence are, in fact, entirely acceptable to Lily, so long as she can argue that the victim ‘deserved it’.
She’d undoubtedly have approved of Harry’s Cruciatus. He’d finally come into his own as a True Gryffindor, chivalrously torturing the deserving.
I somehow cannot see Eliza Bennett approving of someone torturing an immobilized victim, even one who had grievously insulted her. (Lizzie insisted that Darcy reconcile with Lady Catherine, after all.) As for Mr. Darcy, we know that rather than dueling his reprobate rival Wickham after Wickham had seriously injured Elizabeth’s peace of mind and her family’s reputation, he resorted (with great distaste) to bribing him.
Lily and James were no Lizzie and Darcy.
*
In some ways it’s actually Severus who better mirrors Darcy—but without the reward of getting the girl in the end.
Darcy’s original crime, remember, was rudeness—which was born largely from his arrogance. Pre-reformation Darcy didn’t waste social niceties on people he didn’t care for or respect, and he exercised his wit at their expense. Yet at the same time he protected those to whom he felt he owed care. Does that sound at all like anyone we’ve met in the Potterverse?
Severus Snape had no reason to be arrogant about his birth, looks, or wealth, but, like Darcy, he WAS arrogant about his superior intelligence, talent, and competence. When Snape berated a victim, it was almost always for stupidity, lack of talent, laziness, or incompetence—or for presumed “arrogance” over unearned advantages.
Darcy talked of those who had “a real superiority of mind” making it quite clear that he considered himself one of them. He analyzed himself for Lizzie in volume one: “I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for.—It is I believe too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful.—My good opinion once lost is lost for ever.”
“That is a failing indeed!”—cried Elizabeth. “Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well.—I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me.”
“There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”
“And your defect is a propensity to hate every body.” (P&P, I: XI)
Note that Darcy values the possession of intelligence above good temper and social skills (“[My faults] are not, I hope, of understanding.”). Is there anyone in the Potterverse who seemed to prefer to be resentful and resented than a dunderhead? Anyone who was ever accused of having “a propensity to hate every body”? And who yet, once he truly allowed himself to love someone, somehow excluded his loved one(s) from his “implacable resentment,” from his ongoing mental tally of “follies and vices … [and] offenses against myself”?
For Severus, like James and like Darcy, continued to love even after being rejected stingingly (and he thought, irrevocably). And Darcy, like Severus and James, continued to love even after being grievously insulted by his loved one.
Further, Snape’s pro-Slytherin bias could be read as a version of the flaw Darcy admitted after deeper self-reflection: a tendency “to care for none beyond my own … circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own.” (P&P, III: XVI)
Indeed, it might be partly the Darcy parallel that misled so many fen into thinking, pre-HBP, that the Snapes must have been a wealthy Pureblood family (the WW equivalent of gentry). Snape Manor might be the fan version of Pemberley.
And finally, SEVERUS was the one who, we find out, truly paralleled Darcy’s reformation—once we place very firmly at the front of our minds the fact that Lily, unlike Lizzie, never reproved her suitor(s) for, um, incivility.
The behavior that Lily insisted was wrong in Severus was supporting Voldemort and echoing blood prejudice. And we know that whatever else he did not change, Snape did eventually—with Lily in mind, but with no faintest hope of any reward from her, nor even of her ever knowing—reverse course in those two particulars.
So Severus was the one who, albeit too late to win Lily, took Darcy’s path of making a true change, not James’s manipulative, cosmetic one.
Yet if that was Rowling’s intent, why didn’t it work for me once I looked more closely at the characters? Why did her assertion that Lily could possibly have chosen Severus fall flat, and why do I have trouble believing in James’s reformation?
*
The problem is, James Potter was no Darcy. Nor was Severus another Wickham. And that in turn made Lily no Lizzie when she chose the one over the other.
The first issue I have with reading James as Darcy could, if it stood by itself, simply be an example of Rowling’s recurring “tell don’t show” problem. Seeing is believing. Austen showed us Darcy’s reformation; she showed him exerting himself to be polite to people whom previously he would have ignored or scorned. Austen showed too Lizzie’s astonishment at the change:
“Why is he so altered? From what can it proceed? It cannot be for me, it cannot be for my sake that his manners are thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not work such a change as this. It is impossible that he should still love me.” (P&P, III: I)
Rowling, in contrast, had James’s two best friends (hardly unprejudiced witnesses) assure Harry that James had changed—but we readers were never shown ANY example of James’s “after” behavior that solidly demonstrated James’s newfound humility and maturity. In fact, the prequel instead showed James and Sirius behaving much the same as ever.
That, if it stood by itself, could just indicate that Rowling expected us to take her (or Sirius and Remus’s) word for it. Which, way back when I felt I could trust Rowling’s moral judgment, was okay if artistically unsatisfying. However, once I realized I was dealing with an author who thought using the Cruciatus could ever be excused as gallant (IOIAGDI), that didn’t work so well. I wanted to see how post-reformation James had ACTED, to judge his behavior for myself. And she didn’t show us.
The second problem can’t be explained away as artistic misjudgment on Rowling’s part. Austen’s Darcy changed his behavior, not in hopes of influencing Lizzie, but because he accepted her reproofs as justified. He expected never to see Lizzie again. Darcy altered his behavior rather in the hope of making himself a person who would in principle merit Lizzie’s esteem, than in the hope of changing Lizzie’s actual opinion.
Darcy explicitly said as much to Lizzie. However, readers were not required to take Fitzwilliam’s word for this. Darcy had earlier tried (to Lizzie) to excuse his incivility to strangers as being due to innate lack of ability at seeming interested in their concerns—and Lizzie had retorted that she didn’t blame her lack of mastery of the piano on lack of ability, but on not taking the trouble to practice enough.
So the mere fact that Darcy was able to demonstrate mastery of the art of conversing politely with the Gardiners in front of Lizzie proves that he must have been at pains at practicing the uncongenial exercise ‘being polite to strangers’ during the intervening months when he’d expected never again to see her.
Darcy didn’t change to impress Lizzie. He changed because he acknowledged that Lizzie’s rebukes had been well-founded, and he wanted to be a better man, to live up to Lizzie’s standards. Even though Darcy thought that Lizzie would never learn of his changed behavior, and thus would never alter her previous (and justified) bad opinion of him.
James, however, did the EXACT opposite. He changed his behavior in front of Lily (and in front of authorities whose reports on his behavior might get back to Lily), but his friends admitted that he continued his previous misbehavior behind her back.
It is canon that James continued hexing at least one person, Severus, and concealed this from Lily when she believed that he’d stopped entirely. As others have pointed out, the Head Boy had no need to resort to hexes to defend himself from Snape’s attacks, if the problem were simply that Snape had started egregiously attacking James. The Head Boy could simply have taken points from the offender, and let Slytherin House put pressure on the miscreant. So even if Severus were instigating their brawls by then, James was hexing by preference, not necessity.
Moreover, the fact that James COULD conceal his hexes so entirely from his girlfriend suggests that it was, at least much of the time, the person who had an invisibility cloak, the Marauder’s Map, and a rat Animagus lookout, who picked the fights. Severus had neither any motive nor any known means of keeping their continued hex-war a secret from Lily. In fact, had Severus known Lily admired James for having stopped hexing others, that she thought that this showed maturity and restraint on James’s part, he had a strong motive for the exact opposite, for making sure that Lily had occasion to see James preferring to resort to violence instead of point-taking when provoked.
But if James was picking the venue of their “fights,” he had to have been the instigator, at least some of the time. At the best, he might have been “maturely” taking points from Snape in public when Snape hexed him—and then privately “getting him back” later. (As Lupin admitted, “… you couldn’t really expect James to take that lying down, could you?” (OotP, XXIX)) At the worst, James might have been continuing to instigate most of their encounters as he did with the one we witnessed in OotP: using the map and cloak to ambush Snape, possibly with benefit of superior numbers, and enjoying Snape’s furious and humiliated attempts to defend himself against superior firepower. While letting Lily think that James had given up all such pleasures.
So James, unlike Darcy, never felt that his initial behavior was truly wrong and that he ought to live up to Lily’s standards—just that it was impolitic to let Lily observe him behaving in certain ways.
He didn’t truly change; he manipulated Lily into thinking he’d changed, in order to manipulate her feelings about him.
He assumed the semblance of virtue, rather than becoming virtuous. Which is rather more the behavior of a Wickham than a Darcy.
Or to invoke another literary reference—consider Les liaisons dangereuses. The wicked Vicomte de Valmont decided to seduce a virtuous [rigidly moral yet very tenderhearted] woman, so he started ostentatiously to behave in a manner that led her to conclude that the Vicomte had secretly reformed his behavior under the influence of his overwhelming, unrequited love for her…. No, I don’t actually think that James was that cynical.
The third problem I have is, in P&P both protagonists have a moral journey to make before they can meet as lovers. Darcy’s half was to admit that he had not been behaving as a true gentleman ought, and to regulate his pride and temper and start treating his ‘inferiors’ better. We saw that James did not truly do that—he just cheated and said he had. But Austen’s Lizzie had her part, too: to swallow her own pride in her superior intellect/judgment and admit that her prejudices had led her previously to misjudge Darcy.
The problem here is, Austen very carefully established that Lizzie HAD previously misjudged Darcy, that Darcy was in truth a better man than Lizzie had originally given him credit for. First there was the letter, overturning all Lizzie’s ideas about Darcy’s treatment of Wickham—and establishing further that his motives in separating Jane and Bingley were more creditable than Lizzie had supposed. (If Darcy had been right [which he was not] in his reading of Jane’s character, that she was encouraging Bingley’s courtship without feeling a reciprocal passion, then Jane would have been accepting Bingley’s attentions from the exact motive that made Charlotte accept Mr. Collins’: “a pure and disinterested desire of an establishment.” What friend would let his best friend marry such a woman without trying to stop him?)
But further, Austen established that Darcy, outside of Lizzie’s view, was both conscientious in the performance of the duties his privileged position gave him and consistently kind to those in his power. He was a responsible landowner, a considerate master to his servants, and a caring guardian to his sister. His position gave him power over others (servants, sister, tenants), and he wielded that power carefully and with attention to the feelings of those who would have been nearly helpless had he chosen to abuse his position. Not only his friends, family, and housekeeper said so; Mrs. Gardiner’s disinterested (in fact hostile-to-Darcy) sources affirmed that Darcy “was a liberal man and did much good among the poor.”(P&P, III, II)
So Lizzie had been wrong about Darcy’s general character, even if his behavior in front of her had been rude and inconsiderate, fully earning her disapprobation. Austen showed us that Darcy was in substance good, even when his arrogance and inconsideration had led him to act in a manner unworthy of his better self. So for Lizzie to forgive him, admire him, and come to love him, was a merited reward. And it required her first to get over herself, to give up her mistaken belief in the infallibility of her own ‘First Impressions’.
So: had Lily been misjudging James, accusing him unjustly, and did it show her better judgment when she came instead to accept and love him?
What, precisely, did Rowling tell us James was doing outside of Lily’s view? How was James using his position and his talents? Like Darcy, James had unusual power and privilege; how did he use it?
Er. Um.
James used his illegal Animagus ability to loose a werewolf on unsuspecting villagers—getting his thrills out of endangering the lives of strangers. If one accepts the Prequel as canon, he used his magical abilities to lead the police on a wild-goose speeding chase (endangering them and every Muggle on the streets that night), then taunted them and destroyed their property. He used lethal force against his broom-riding pursuers—with that trademark Marauder overlay of “humor”. Wasn’t it FUNNY to see the people chasing him smash at high speed into the fat, stupid policemen’s car? That was straight out of the Roadrunner cartoons. (Of course, outside of cartoons such an impact would break the pursuers’ necks and/or smash their skulls. You’ll note that James and Sirius didn’t pause to examine the bodies of their victims.)
And we know that James used his position as Head Boy to continue his sport of Snape-baiting—possibly even Snape-hunting.
We never once are shown James using his position as a wizard or a rich man to help those he considered “beneath” him. We are told (not shown) that he did help his closest friends. What we were shown, however, repeatedly, was James enjoying inflicting pain and humiliation on lesser beings, and endangering friends, enemies, and bystanders for his own entertainment. (Loosing the werewolf endangered his friend Lupin as well as the villagers—at the very least, it made it much more likely that Lupin’s secret would be guessed.)
We don’t ever see James the teen acting kindly, or responsibly, or considerately, when out of Lily’s view. Or, indeed, at all.
Now consider how people spoke of James to his son. He was a hero/martyr in the fight against Voldemort; there is a statue to the Holy Family in Godric’s Hollow, for crying out loud. So what did people say about him? How did they praise the young hero to his orphaned son? Who came shouldering up to Harry in the Leaky to brag about being at school with the great James Potter? Who took on Augusta Longbottom’s role with Neville, reminding Harry that he ought to try to live up to his martyred father’s memory?
Well, er, no one.
They tried not to bring him up, most of them. Nil nisi…. Minerva told Harry, once, that James had been a great Quidditch player and would have been proud to see Harry the same. Out of Harry’s earshot (she thought) she described James as bright but a great troublemaker, and called him the “ringleader” of a “gang”—the same words used by Dumbledore of Tom Riddle and by Harry of Dudley.
Should the reader find these reassuring parallels?
Note too that Sirius and James were described as a matched set—and that while people were shocked that Sirius should have betrayed his great friend James, no one had any trouble at all believing Sirius capable of the mass murder of innocent bystanders.
We know that what Dumbledore told Harry about James was wholly disingenuous, deliberately intended to mislead without overtly lying. (In comparing the Snape/James enmity to the Harry/Draco one, he knew that Harry would NOT take from the comparison the thought that James might have been an arrogant pureblood who had gathered a gang to pick on his halfblood rival unremittingly. And the version of the Prank Dumbledore gave Harry first year was an absolute masterpiece.) Since Dumbledore was encouraging Harry to mold himself into what Harry chose to believe his father to have been (brave, flinging himself into danger without counting the cost, loyal, and self-sacrificing), we can’t count on anything Dumbledore said as reflecting his real opinion of James.
Sirius and Remus, of course, whitewashed James’s behavior (and their own) and tried to excuse it when Harry revealed that when he’d actually seen an example of his father’s behavior, he found it unacceptable.
Hagrid was the only non-Marauder to wax (nonspecifically) enthusiastic over James—and as Hagrid was also the one we watched cooing to a (female) baby dragon spitting flame at him, “Norbert! Where’s Mommy?” Hagrid’s judgment must be deeply suspect.
So readers are not given anything to base Lily’s turnaround on, except that James, according to his best friends, “deflated his head.” The only other possible explanation from canon is that Lily, like Lizzie, melted towards her arrogant suitor when she realized he’d undergone significant unpleasantness to rescue someone he despised—for (perhaps) her sake.
Perhaps Lily took James saving her friend Severus’s life to be a noble, courageous, and unselfish action.
Only problem with that is, we the readers, unlike Lily, know that Prongs risked nothing in doing it. He could have transformed into his deer form and been safe from Moony—true, Prongs could not have run in the tunnel as described, but he didn’t need to—Moony didn’t attack Animagi in their animal forms, only humans. So it required no courage or self-sacrifice on James’s part to enter that tunnel.
Furthermore, we know—as Lily very evidently did not—that two of James’s closest friends were at risk of expulsion or Azkaban had Sirius’s “joke” succeeded in killing Severus. (That’s assuming, charitably, that Severus was wrong in thinking James had had a hand in planning the “joke” with Sirius; if Severus was right that James were an accessory before the fact, then if proved, James might have joined Sirius in expulsion and wand-breaking, and/or a life sentence to Azkaban. Setting a lethal monster upon fellow students, when known, isn’t taken lightly.)
Moreover, any serious investigation (say under Ministry Veritaserum) would most likely have revealed James’s own independent criminal activities (being an unregistered Animagus is a criminal offense, and loosing a Class XXXXX creature upon Hogwarts and Hogsmeade is, in fact, the very crime for which fourteen-year-old Hagrid had been expelled from Hogwarts and had his wand broken). So we the readers know that saving Severus was probably in James’s own self-interest, and was certainly necessary to protect both Sirius and Remus.
So the only incident that JKR actually gives us that could have significantly changed Lily’s impression of James, would have been based on Lily’s FALSE interpretation of James’s motivations. And on her refusing to listen to her supposed “best friend” when he tried haltingly to enlighten her.
Lizzie’s re-evaluation of Darcy was based on her realization that she’d previously misjudged him; Lily’s of James, quite possibly, on starting to misjudge him. Opposites, in fact.
*
Which takes us to the next problem in comparing James and Darcy, the biggest of all: how do James’s flaws compare to Darcy’s, and Lily’s reproof to Lizzie’s?
Lizzie accused Darcy of two specific offenses. The first was that he had been “the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister,” (P&P, II:XI) the second that he had “in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the immediate prosperity and blasted the prospects of Mr. Wickham.” (P&P, II: XII)
But Lizzie made also the following general criticism:
“… your manners impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form that ground-work of disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike….” (P&P, II: XI)
Darcy could refute the specific accusations, but her general criticism he eventually accepted: “For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”
Darcy’s fundamental flaw was improper pride, and the misbehavior which he subsequently corrected was lack of consideration for the feelings of those he felt to be beneath him. (Note that his supposed crimes against Jane and Wickham both fell into this category: Lizzie thought that he broke Jane’s heart, and ruined Wickham’s life, because he thought them socially beneath him and because he could. Instead, Darcy mistakenly thought Jane, and correctly judged Wickham, to have no feelings that could merit his—or anyone’s—consideration.)
JKR seems to think that this was James’s fundamental flaw as well. On those occasions when she allowed James to be criticized by any character in text the key word was always arrogant: Snape (“as arrogant as your father” PoA), Lily (“arrogant toerag” OotP, SWM, and DH, TPT), distraught Harry (“judging from what he had just seen, his father had been every bit as arrogant as Snape had always told him.”OotP, SWM)
Now, no reader could deny that James in SWM exhibited “arrogance,… conceit, and …selfish disdain of the feelings of others.”
But were those the only, or worst, flaws that James there exhibited?
Here are Lily’s criticisms of James:
“You think you’re funny,” she said coldly. “But you’re just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter.”
“You’re as bad as he is.…”
“Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you’ve just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can—I’m surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.” (OotP, “SWM”- XXVIII)
The problem here is that Rowling and I seem to disagree on what were the worst flaws James Potter really exhibited in SWM (and elsewhere).
And that Lily apparently agreed with Rowling fatally diminishes Lily in my eyes.
Trying to look cool, showing off with the snitch, hexing people “because he can”—what made Lily “sick” was apparently that James was a conceited show-off who had the gall to expect her to be an automatic member of the Potter fan club.
Not that James was a sadistic jerk who was “using his magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control” [HBP, “The Secret Riddle”].
James Potter’s “instincts for cruelty, secrecy, and domination” [ibid.], were nearly as marked as those of an earlier dark-haired Head Boy-to-be. And that didn’t bother JKR, and it apparently didn’t bother Lily.
Now, Lily didn’t know all of James’s misbehavior. She didn’t know, as we do (and as JKR does), that James, like Tom Riddle, repeatedly let loose, for his own amusement, a monster which could kill most people it encountered (but which HE could control). Lily didn’t know that James was an illegal Animagus. She didn’t know that James was the creator of the Marauder’s Map, which enabled the holder to ambush other students and to evade authority figures. She didn’t know that James had an invisibility cloak, or think how that could be used, again, to set ambushes and escape detection in wrongdoing.
She didn’t know that James, like Tom was the leader of a gang which was attacking people on the quiet, under the radar of the authority.
But what she did know, what she witnessed for herself, she criticized for the wrong reasons.
Let’s put this in context.
Suppose I, at age sixteen, witnessed a gang of my schoolmates (led by a pair of rich, upper-class jocks) publicly beat up a loner from the wrong side of the tracks. They overwhelmed him with superior numbers, immobilized him, stripped him to his underwear and threatened to bare his genitals, and held his face in a bucket of soapy water while he fought, gagged, and struggled to breathe.
My first condemnation of the gang leader (assuming I had had the courage to try to intervene—perhaps not a justified assumption) would not have been, “You think you’re funny,” nor my final judgment that the gang leader had a “fat head.”
I would have thought the gang leader a sickeningly brutal little thug. Arrogant, yes, that too: he clearly thought that Daddy’s wealth and influence and his own popularity would let him get away such an attack in public. And in the actual case in question James was, of course, absolutely correct in thinking this. But what would have bothered me far worse than the arrogance would have been the viciousness—the indulgence of those obvious instincts for cruelty and domination.
Furthermore, Lily was, after all, the queen of judging (and discarding) people by the insults they used under stress. So what insult did she use to/of James, twice, in canon? “Arrogant toerag.” That’s actually a fascinating epithet to apply to James, because “toerag” denoted someone too poor to afford shoes, a vagrant or criminal who had to wrap their feet in rags. A lower class person. So the worst insult Lily could think of to hurl (as Severus’s was “Mudblood”) was to accuse someone of being lower class—an epithet utterly worthy of Petunia’s sister.
That insult was clearly misapplied to James in a literal sense: his social status was as high as it could be in the WW, much higher than hers. It’s worth noting, however, that if social standing were what Lily cared most about, as her choice of insults seemed to indicate, Severus was quadruply inferior to James: in the Muggle world for being “from Spinner’s End” rather than rich, in the general WW for being (like Lily) the son of a Muggle, among the Hogwarts students for being an unpopular geek rather than a Quidditch star, and in the eyes of Lily’s Gryffindor housemates for being a stinking Slytherin (JKR carefully shows us three generations of Gryffs telling each other that Slytherins are innately inferior: Hagrid to Harry, James on the train, and the Trio to Neville).
But of course the flip side of Lily’s calling James a toerag was: there is an upper-middle-class sensibility which does regard (excessively overt) parading of oneself as déclassé. So one might read “you’re an arrogant toerag” as modern slang for the reproof “you are behaving in an ungentleman-like manner.”
So Lily’s criticisms (like Lizzie’s to Darcy) gave James pointers on what he would have to do to win her approbation: stop expressing his overweening self-satisfaction so openly and tone down on the showing off (both with the Quidditch-star posing and the hexing).
But unlike Lizzie’s criticism of Darcy, there was nothing in there at all about starting to show consideration for the feelings of others.
And yet James, unlike Darcy, had shown himself to be a sadist, keenly savoring humiliating and physically hurting others.
Canon Darcy was rude and cold to people he considered beneath them, but we never saw him physically attack anyone. Moreover, his wit was exercised at other people’s expense, but not, apparently, expressly for the purpose of hurting their feelings.
Contrast Darcy to Severus in this—Snape (like James) appeared to Harry to register and relish the reaction of his targets.
Darcy amused himself by passing sarcastic comments on his inferiors, but in indifference of the reception of his insults. Darcy’s barbs often, like Mr. Bennet’s to his wife, went over his victims’ heads:
“[Darcy] paid me the compliment of saying, that he was so well convinced of Lady Catherine’s discernment as to be certain she could never bestow a favor unworthily.” (Mr. Collins exulting in Darcy’s reception of him, P&P, I, XVIII). Or Darcy would insult someone absent with no expectation (or intention) that the insult might be relayed. “She a beauty!—I should as soon call her mother a wit.” (P&P, III, III)
And certainly in his first proposal to Lizzie Darcy didn’t expect that his “honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design” might be received by his intended as showing “so evident a design of offending and insulting me.”(P&P, II, XI).
Darcy, in short, showed “disdain of the feelings of others,” as Lizzie charged. But he didn’t set out specifically to hurt others for his pleasure. Others’ humiliation was a side-effect of the exercise of his wit (one he could be trained out of—“If he did roll his eyes, it was not until Sir William was absent”), not his goal. Lily’s two suitors, James and Severus, in contrast, showed active relish in hurting the feelings of others—both apparently enjoyed verbally attacking others, and James also clearly relished inflicting physical pain and humiliation.
So Lily, unlike Lizzie, apparently found a cruel streak to be acceptable in her suitors.
Indeed, the ethos of Gryffindor house seems to be that hurting people is not just acceptable, but commendable—so long as the victims could be claimed to “deserve” it. Look at the vicious way Fred and George treated Dudley at the beginning of GoF, and Draco and his friends at its end.
Or consider the fallout from Sectumsempra in HBP. McGonagall told Harry that he was lucky not to have been expelled, and Pansy Parkinson vilified Harry far and wide (but who cared about her opinion?). But Harry’s housemates? They were angry that Harry had done something that gave Snape an excuse to ban him from the final Quidditch game. And that did seem to be the light in which they, and Harry, regarded attempted evisceration. Ginny even said that Hermione “should be glad Harry had something good up his sleeve!” (Because Expelliarmus, Stupefy, and Impedimenta are so ineffective at neutralizing an opponent without harm, yes.)
Others have commented what it says about Hogwarts if, as JKR would have us believe, a mere few days after Harry had almost killed Draco everyone was more interested in gossiping about his love life than his crime. “After all, it made a very nice change to be talked about because of something that was making him happier… rather than because he had been involved [as perpetrator] in horrific scenes of Dark Magic.” However, given that Harry was Bubble Boy, who the year before didn’t even RECOGNIZE, still less know the names of, some of his (thirty—really not an excessive number) classmates from other houses, all that we can really infer is that GRYFFINDORS found Harry’s love life more interesting than his crime against Draco. (The only gossiper mentioned by name was Romilda Vane, Gryffindor.)
Now let’s circle back to consider Lily—who (unlike Hermione, who objected to the Prince’s humor) was placed instantaneously in Gryffindor. And whose sister (family members often share the same underlying values) clearly felt that neglecting and verbally abusing a child was an acceptable thing to do, so long as the toddler “deserved” it (in Harry’s case, for being a magic-wielding freak).
What was it that Lily asked James, again, at the very beginning of her gracious intervention in SWM? Oh, yeah. “What’s he done to you?”
Wait a minute. Saint Lily the prefect has just witnessed several students gang up to attack another who’d previously been doing nothing except quietly reviewing his test answers. This gang disarmed the other student, viciously insulted him, immobilized him, stripped him nearly naked, and waterboarded him. The gang, moreover, was already notorious for attacking “anyone who annoys you … just because you can”. Yet Lily’s response was to imply that if James could give her an answer that established to her satisfaction that Sev “deserved” it in some way, she would just walk away and leave the Marauders to their fun?
Well, yes.
After all, that’s exactly what she DID do when Sev insulted her, didn’t she? The prefect flounced away after getting her own verbal dig in at the victim, leaving the criminals free to do anything they wanted.
So cruelty and violence are, in fact, entirely acceptable to Lily, so long as she can argue that the victim ‘deserved it’.
She’d undoubtedly have approved of Harry’s Cruciatus. He’d finally come into his own as a True Gryffindor, chivalrously torturing the deserving.
I somehow cannot see Eliza Bennett approving of someone torturing an immobilized victim, even one who had grievously insulted her. (Lizzie insisted that Darcy reconcile with Lady Catherine, after all.) As for Mr. Darcy, we know that rather than dueling his reprobate rival Wickham after Wickham had seriously injured Elizabeth’s peace of mind and her family’s reputation, he resorted (with great distaste) to bribing him.
Lily and James were no Lizzie and Darcy.
*
In some ways it’s actually Severus who better mirrors Darcy—but without the reward of getting the girl in the end.
Darcy’s original crime, remember, was rudeness—which was born largely from his arrogance. Pre-reformation Darcy didn’t waste social niceties on people he didn’t care for or respect, and he exercised his wit at their expense. Yet at the same time he protected those to whom he felt he owed care. Does that sound at all like anyone we’ve met in the Potterverse?
Severus Snape had no reason to be arrogant about his birth, looks, or wealth, but, like Darcy, he WAS arrogant about his superior intelligence, talent, and competence. When Snape berated a victim, it was almost always for stupidity, lack of talent, laziness, or incompetence—or for presumed “arrogance” over unearned advantages.
Darcy talked of those who had “a real superiority of mind” making it quite clear that he considered himself one of them. He analyzed himself for Lizzie in volume one: “I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for.—It is I believe too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful.—My good opinion once lost is lost for ever.”
“That is a failing indeed!”—cried Elizabeth. “Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well.—I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me.”
“There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”
“And your defect is a propensity to hate every body.” (P&P, I: XI)
Note that Darcy values the possession of intelligence above good temper and social skills (“[My faults] are not, I hope, of understanding.”). Is there anyone in the Potterverse who seemed to prefer to be resentful and resented than a dunderhead? Anyone who was ever accused of having “a propensity to hate every body”? And who yet, once he truly allowed himself to love someone, somehow excluded his loved one(s) from his “implacable resentment,” from his ongoing mental tally of “follies and vices … [and] offenses against myself”?
For Severus, like James and like Darcy, continued to love even after being rejected stingingly (and he thought, irrevocably). And Darcy, like Severus and James, continued to love even after being grievously insulted by his loved one.
Further, Snape’s pro-Slytherin bias could be read as a version of the flaw Darcy admitted after deeper self-reflection: a tendency “to care for none beyond my own … circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own.” (P&P, III: XVI)
Indeed, it might be partly the Darcy parallel that misled so many fen into thinking, pre-HBP, that the Snapes must have been a wealthy Pureblood family (the WW equivalent of gentry). Snape Manor might be the fan version of Pemberley.
And finally, SEVERUS was the one who, we find out, truly paralleled Darcy’s reformation—once we place very firmly at the front of our minds the fact that Lily, unlike Lizzie, never reproved her suitor(s) for, um, incivility.
The behavior that Lily insisted was wrong in Severus was supporting Voldemort and echoing blood prejudice. And we know that whatever else he did not change, Snape did eventually—with Lily in mind, but with no faintest hope of any reward from her, nor even of her ever knowing—reverse course in those two particulars.
So Severus was the one who, albeit too late to win Lily, took Darcy’s path of making a true change, not James’s manipulative, cosmetic one.
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no subject
Date: 2016-04-21 11:14 am (UTC)Thank you!
Date: 2016-04-21 02:27 pm (UTC)Re: Thank you!
Date: 2016-04-21 05:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-21 02:39 pm (UTC)But she did show us James being a bully. In every memory we see of James, we don't see him acting heroically. We see him being a bully or we see him being an idiot (i.e. in the Godric's Hollow memory). The only time he isn't is when Harry is attacked by the dementors and has a flashback featuring his father's voice, telling Lily to take their son and run while he holds Voldemort off. It's the one time that James is portrayed as heroic in the past and it's only his voice. All the other times where he isn't being a jerk are when he shows up as a shade: in the Mirror of Erised (which shows its viewer what he/she wants to see), when his ghost appears during the graveyard duel in GOF, and when his shade appears due to the Resurrection Stone (which, as many people have pointed out, could just as easily be a figment of Harry's imagination or a machination of the Stone, since he, along with the other shades, makes no attempt to dissuade Harry from going to Voldemort).
So, by relying on just telling us that James matured, but meanwhile *showing* us all the times before that supposedly happened, JKR shot herself in the foot.
/Darcy didn’t change to impress Lizzie. He changed because he acknowledged that Lizzie’s rebukes had been well-founded, and he wanted to be a better man, to live up to Lizzie’s standards. Even though Darcy thought that Lizzie would never learn of his changed behavior, and thus would never alter her previous (and justified) bad opinion of him./
*Exactly.* Just another thing that some people misunderstand about P&P.
/his friends admitted that he continued his previous misbehavior behind her back./
And once again JKR shot herself in the foot. It's probably the case that she meant for Snape to be a 'special case' because Snape is just so nasty and horrible that of course James would make an exception for him. Except...Snape's also the one whom James saved. The fact that James rescued Snape is supposed to indicate his moral worth, that he would go out of his way to save someone that he disliked.
And yet he kept bullying Snape after that. No self-reflection, no readjustment of priorities, nothing.
/And on her refusing to listen to her supposed “best friend” when he tried haltingly to enlighten her./
And it was her best friend telling her this. When Caroline Bingley warned Elizabeth about Wickham, Elizabeth and the reader naturally disregarded her advice, not only because Miss Bingley admitted that her knowledge was from secondhand sources but because she had been established as a rude and elitist snob who disliked Elizabeth and anyone she perceived as beneath her in status. So, it was only natural for her opinion of Wickham to be seen as suspect.
But this is Lily's friend - not her rival, not someone who obviously dislikes her - who tells her that James is trouble. And while Lily could dismiss Snape's motive as jealousy, the Prank happened to *him.* He was there. He wasn't relating rumors to her. And yet Lily shows no interest in what exactly James saved him from. She dismisses Snape's warning as easily as Elizabeth dismisses Caroline's, and tells him to just shut up and be grateful to James.
/the prefect flounced away after getting her own verbal dig in at the victim, leaving the criminals free to do anything they wanted./
Which means that all of her claims to moral superiority were utterly hollow. And that she, far from being the Beatrice to Snape's Dante and far from being the guiding moral light to his redemption, was nothing more than a shallow, self-righteous hypocrite that Snape was better off without.
P&P
Date: 2016-04-23 06:57 pm (UTC)Love your point about disregarding Caroline Bingley versus disregarding your best friend.
And yes, regarding Lily, I ended by agreeing with Jodel that Jo rather depicted Lily and James as deserving each other.....
no subject
Date: 2016-04-21 11:24 pm (UTC)Furthermore, Lily was, after all, the queen of judging (and discarding) people by the insults they used under stress. So what insult did she use to/of James, twice, in canon? “Arrogant toerag.” That’s actually a fascinating epithet to apply to James, because “toerag” denoted someone too poor to afford shoes, a vagrant or criminal who had to wrap their feet in rags. A lower class person. So the worst insult Lily could think of to hurl (as Severus’s was “Mudblood”) was to accuse someone of being lower class—an epithet utterly worthy of Petunia’s sister.
In retrospect, I'm kind of shocked by how common this view seems to be (just in general). I've recently been rereading a series of books from my childhood, which feature a supposedly noble and heroic character who appears to think "lower-class" is a suitable insult, even if what you find disagreeable has nothing to do with class.
More recently, I've been watching a competitive reality show and I was struck by how many viewers showed their dislike for a disagreeable contestant by calling him, essentially, lower-class--even though all the evidence clearly indicated that he was nothing of the sort.
Granted, I'm not saying Rowling was the one who gave any of these people the idea--but if you think about it it's scary how many people seem totally okay with implying that lower class=everything wrong with the world (even metaphorically).
lower class
Date: 2016-04-23 07:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-22 03:35 pm (UTC)I, who love Jane, think that both Elizabeth and Darcy suffer from pride and prejudice. Pride which starts as self-respect can degenerate in overweening arrogance; class prejudice and prejudice born of a sense of intellectual superiority are only different in the eye of the terminally self-righteous. Darcy is accused - rightly - of 'implacable resentement', but all he did to unleash Eliza's eternal dislike was not to swoon over her beauty at the ball. Petty grudges can be implacable as anything, as JKR's grudge against her chemistry teacher - poor Snape! - can attest.
It's a bildunsroman for two, four even, if we count Jane and Bingley, and all the young protagonists must face their faults, accept that those are their faults, and correct them if they want to live like adults. JKR's saga is the opposite of bildungsroman. The heroes are static and have no faults to face or correct, there's no evolution. Those who evolve and face their faults are the villains of the piece, those who cry "I was blind!" are the bad guys and must be forever reviled. Actually, in this view, Severus is a lot more like Eliza than Darcy and the Malfoys are the Darcys of the situation.
Also, thanks to you, I've just realised that JKR took Mrs Bennett and renamed her Molly Weasley. Mrs Bennett, one of the 'monsters' of P&P (the other being Mr Bennett, of course. Horrible awful parents) is presented as the epitome of motherhood. The blood freezes. JKR seems to be tone-deaf to humanity. Being rather cyinical I think she also wanted to give a sense of Nanny Ogg, but, thanks to tone-deafness she missed by a parsec.
Bildungsroman
Date: 2016-04-23 07:05 pm (UTC)Did you ever read Dan Hemmons on how the HP series was a Nildungsroman? Loved the term.
And yes, Molly would make a good Mrs. Bennett. If JKR ever intended her as Nanny Ogg, though, she wasn't reading Pratchett any better than Austen--NANNY calling someone a scarlet woman?
Re: Bildungsroman
Date: 2016-04-24 01:05 pm (UTC)I love Dan Hemmens critique of JKR. :D
And yes, she wasn't reading Sir Pterry (mayherestinpeace) any better than Austen or DWJ. I always suspected that McGonagall was supposed to be Granny. Can you imagine? Granny Weatherwax smiling fondly at James Potter?
Thing is... How could JKR read those authors well when she has no ethics?
Re: Bildungsroman
Date: 2016-04-24 07:52 pm (UTC)Um. I didn't think JKR was copying Sir Pterry's characters (so very) badly, I just assumed she was using some of the same stereotypes/archetypes as he did...
Fanny Price
Date: 2016-04-24 08:57 pm (UTC)The world is full of shy, timid people who are natural followers, and they too have their stories to tell, even if they don’t make such appealing heroines as Elizabeth Bennett. Jane Austen gave us a new heroine in each novel. She would have pleased her fans more if she’d given us Elizabeth Bennett over and over, but then she would have been cranking out genre fiction instead of a new novel each time.
To bring us back to the Potterverse: My story “Princely Names” originally included a chapter on the Sorting of Octavia Eileen Prince, in which she persuaded Deputy Headmaster Dumbledore to omit her hated first name when he called her up to the Hat. The name called just before “Prince, Eileen,” was “Price, Frances,” Sorted into Hufflepuff. Losing the Sorting of Fanny Price is the main thing I regret about cutting that chapter.
no subject
Date: 2016-04-25 02:21 am (UTC)So. Lily and Elizabeth grow up with parents treating them like they're just naturally better than their siblings, even though their advantages might be due to their parents' preferential treatment. This leaves them predisposed to, like Darcy, consider themselves superior, and to disregard people outside their circle of "worthy" friends and relations.
Except Elizabeth realizes her judgment is sometimes faulty, based on petty prejudices and stubborn pride in her own snap judgments.
Lily continues with superficial judgments. Now, I think she's right that the wannabe DEs' "casual" slurs and attacks on other students are terrible, and that Sev getting sucked into that is a seriously bad thing even before he actually joins up... but she attributes that to a simple Slytherin DE/Gryffindor Hero dichotomy, and one of her big complaints is that her Gryffindor friends don't like Sev. Probably because he's weird and poor and scruffy and in the designated rival House as much as for his "dark" associations and politics (which aren't that different from the mainstream, sadly). And she judges the Marauders' cruelty to those "beneath" them less harshly because they're part of her group. It seems less about what's right than about what's good or bad for her and her friends, and breaking with Sev more for superficial reasons than the actually legitimate reasons she has. She likes James's surface better, therefore he is better.
It's kind of like picking Wickham for his open, engaging manners, and finding ways to justify why he's really a better person, honest.
Cutting people in one's own circle a break for the same behaviors one condemns in rivals and jumping to conclusions based on superficial characteristics are natural human instincts, probably exacerbated by her upbringing where favoritism was just the natural order of things and would instinctively feel "right." I don't blame a teenager for struggling with this... but she never overcomes it that we see, and while understandable, that isn't exactly admirable. And I resent an author trying to push me into reading this as admirable rather than an interestingly nuanced portrayal of a flawed teen in a difficult situation.
Question
Date: 2016-05-07 02:27 pm (UTC)We are not told how the Marauders leave the Shrieking Shack; certainly it's never suggested that the front door may be open. Every instance in the book of a character entering the Shack is through the secret tunnel under the Whomping Willow. Could a stag, a werewolf, and a large dog make it out? The floating Snape hits his head; Snape is described as pretty tall, so I would estimate the height of the entrance at about six and a half to seven feet. That's about as tall as a red stag deer, or so Google tells me. In the PoA film, the transformed Lupin is much taller than a man, but a) I don't recall the book suggesting the same, and b) the werewolf is hunched. And I also seem to remember that the passage was wide enough for two people to walk shoulder to shoulder. And from photos, it seems that the red stag deer (the biggest animal by width) doesn't have antlers as wide as two people.
As far as I can remember, the Marauders run out over the grounds of Hogwarts on the night of the full moon. Since it is the night, no human beings can be expected on the grounds or in the forest, including the gamekeeper, and no non-humans are at risk from the werewolf.
The boundary between the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade village are a little fuzzy, but there are definitely "gates" to Hogwarts. What use is a gate without walls or fences, though we are never told of either (we are also not told of what lies on the other side of the Forbidden Forest)? Therefore, if the Marauders ran across the grounds, I would postulate that the villagers of Hogsmeade were not in any danger.
I don't think it's fair to say that James and friends were not in any danger whatsoever from the werewolf either. The werewolf doesn't attack or seek to bite animals, but it's a creature in a frenzy and capable of hurting itself. Sirius has to wrestle with Remus to get him away from the children. While Sirius reminisces fondly about their moonlight adventures, everything about the operation was dangerous. They (especially Pettigrew) were in danger from Lupin and from the tree. The Marauders loved to live dangerously, but their acceptance of a werewolf, against whom there was a great deal of prejudice, shows that James was broadminded in at least one respect. He treated Snape (and I would wager Pettigrew as well) abominably, but there is little evidence that he behaved as abominably against others. Even Snape, who hates him with a passion, never suggests as much.
Re: Question
Date: 2016-05-07 09:35 pm (UTC)RE: Re: Question
Date: 2016-05-11 11:31 am (UTC)Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night.
"A thougt that still haunts me" said Lupin heavily. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless--carried awy with our own clevernass."