I finally finished reading the Potter chronicles yesterday. Tycho of Penny Arcade describes the experience thus:
I finished the last Harry Potter yesterday, but I couldn't actually tell you what happened in it. It's been like that for several books now, starting with The Order of the Phoenix, where I grip the book with hunger and aggression and consume it without ever tasting the meal. I have a sense of being satisfied, but it is murky, and distant, the way an anaconda must feel one week after eating a jaguar. What is most important is that the wait, that long famine, has come to a close.
I had steered clear of reviews until now, but I think that's probably the most accurate one I'm likely to read. It's been like that for me since Goblet of Fire. I still couldn't tell you what happened at the end of that book. One of the things that most impresses me in Rowling's stories is the way things all tie to together. Unlike other people (George Lucas) who claim to have planned a saga, but clearly made it up as they went along, she appears to have actually been telling the truth. I feel I would get so much more from it if I could actually remember what happened in Half-Blood Prince.
Last night, all remained clear in my head, but it's fading fast. I guess at some point I'll just have to reread the whole lot…
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