written by David Nagore Well, Rowling did it. She really did it. She said that a "major" character would die and she was true to her promise. Yet despite her warnings, the ultimate revelation of Dumbledore's death nevertheless sent shockwaves through her millions of readers, including yours truly. Yet in retrospect, to me he seemed the most obvious choice from a plot development point-of-view. I would have offed him had I been Rowling, despite the reaction I knew such an incident would cause with my readership. It fits the storyline perfectly, as far as I'm concerned. Still, as this site entails, Dumbledore's murder begs one question: Is ol' Albus truly dead? Frankly, I have my doubts, and it has nothing to do with any clues Rowling may or may not have in HBP. Part of her genius as an author is that she leaves just as many red herrings in her work as real clues, forcing us to guess wildly what will happen until after the fact. Rather, my doubt comes from death possessing a unique fluidity and transience, in deep connection with the supernatural and myth, which is not without precedent in fantasy works. In fact, the genre is replete with death/rebirth examples, not only in modern literature but going back thousands of years to the ancient myths and folklore that are modern fantasy's progenitors. It is important to note that, since the entire Harry Potter saga is, at its core, a children's story, the majority of its readership are still young people who have not been around long enough to be thoroughly read in the genre, although one would hope that current education hasn't degraded to the point where the most basic stories are now out of the curriculum. By seeing that death and rebirth are well established within the genre, as well as the many forms they take, then perhaps Rowling's younger audience will understand Dumbledore may not be dead after all, or that his death, if it is final, will have a more profound and positive result than we now perceive. As such, I will barely focus on the sonata of the Harry Potter saga itself, but instead plant my attention squarely on the cacophonic symphony that is all myth, folklore and fantasy that came before it, and present to you, dear reader, with the tiniest snapshot to illustrate my claims. First, let's take a look at two of the most influential early civilizations in Western culture, Egypt and Greece. Ancient Egypt's religion was almost entirely based on the notion of death as a transient state. Aside from the phoenix myth, which Rowling has tied closely to Dumbledore, one of the most well-known Egyptian death/rebirth stories relates to the murder of the god Osiris by his brother, Set, and his subsequent resurrection because of his wife, Isis, which signified the ancient Egyptian's view of nature's self-renewal. The ancient Greeks had many cyclic, death/rebirth myths. Zeus saving his siblings after their father, Kronos, ate them is one. Another Greek death-renewal myth concerned the death god Hades and his wife, Persephone. According to this story, winter occurred during the time of year Persephone spent with Hades to the netherworld, her absence reflecting, like Osiris' annual death and rebirth, the death and rebirth of nature. Jumping centuries ahead to the middle ages, we find the legend of King Arthur and his own personal wizard, mentor and advisor, Merlin, the archetype for almost every wizard character in modern fantasy. This story, which has been and continues to be reinvented and reinterpreted countless times in both print (Sir Thomas Marlory's Le Morte d'Arthur, The Once and Future King by T.H. White, The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley and many others) and cinema (Camelot (1967), the adult-oriented Excalibur (1981; sorry kids, not for you), the made-for-television stinker Merlin (1998) and again, others), nevertheless (most of the time, anyway, depending on how the legend is interpreted) depicts Arthur's loss of Merlin near the end of the story that is tied directly to death or is in some way symbolically death-like. Yet there also is the promise of Merlin's return when he is needed, or he actually does return. Arthur himself makes a bid for rebirth when, though mortally wounded at the end of his legend, he is taken to Avalon to sleep until England needs him once more. From this perspective, we can view Harry as a kind of Arthurian hero. Near the end of his quest, he must now rely on his own skills to see him through, whether Dumbledore comes back or not.
David Nagore lives in Tucson, Arizona with his wife and three kids. A University of Arizona graduate with a BA in Creative Writing, his fiction and nonfiction work has appeared in Dream International/Quarterly, Tucson Weekly, Western Outdoor News and others. A great lover of speculative fiction and fantasy in particular, his daughter turned him on to Harry Potter when she made him promise to take her to see the movie version of Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone. An admitted literary snob, he read the book before taking her, and before he know it had read every volume published to that point.
i got his from www.dumbledoreisnotdead.com