This article originally appeared in the January, 2002, Number 28 issue of *spark.
The film adaptation of J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone is astonishingly faithful. Some viewers will be delighted that the film doesn’t tamper with their beloved book; others, who had perhaps imagined characters or scenes differently, will be dismayed. Oddly, I found an addition to the film, rather than a deletion from the book, disturbing.
The climax of the story has Harry and his two friends, Hermione and Ron, facing a series of challenges in order to keep the villain from obtaining a stone which will give him immortality. Towards the end, Hermione, the smartest member of the group, tells Harry that he must go on alone. When Harry balks, she tells him with a derisive snort that her intelligence is “just book learning,” and that his bravery will see him through.
Just book learning. How many different ways does this line play false? Let’s start with the obvious one: to overcome the series of challenges, each of the main characters contributes solutions. In the book, it is clear that all of three of them are necessary to stop the villain, and none are more important than the others. Even in the film, Harry needs the help of both Hermione and Ron to get to the final confrontation.
Worse: Each of the Harry Potter books take place over the course of a school year; the series start with Harry and his friends entering Hogwarts and will end with them graduating seven years later (one book per year). Although downplayed in the film, education (going to classes, doing homework assignments, getting tested at the end of the year) is a central aspect of the series.
Still worse: Rowling writes books for children. Implicit in this endeavour is the idea that child literacy – in other words, book learning – is an important social good. Disparaging reading, as the remark in the film does, has to go against Rowling’s intentions.
Why put the line into the film? Well…I don’t think I’ll be saying anything original when I point out that the United States has a profoundly anti-intellectual culture. It’s not that the country hasn’t developed its share of brilliant people; it’s just that their achievements are not only not celebrated, but considered a little suspect. This tendency plays itself out in large and small ways in even the most unlikely areas of American culture.
Consider another example: the trailer for A Beautiful Mind. The film is based loosely on the life of John Nash, a mathematical genius who spent many years of his life fighting mental illness. You might expect a film with such a subject to focus on the man’s brain. However, prominent in the trailer is a scene where his wife puts her hand on his chest and tells him that the truth lies within. Thus, Nash’s struggle is recast (ridiculously, I think) not as one of intellect, but emotion.
Some have argued that the anti-intellectual streak in American culture is a form of democratization: few people will ever attain the genius of a John Nash or even the smarts of a Hermione Granger, but we all have the potential within us to act bravely when called upon to do so (since bravery, after all, is a matter of momentary will in the face of specific circumstances) and we can certainly understand emotional stress and need. Better to de-emphasize intelligence, playing up characteristics with which more people will be able to identify.
This theory cannot entirely be true. At the same time as Americans downplay intelligence, they venerate physical prowess, as incarnated in sports heroes. Just as the average person in the US is unlikely to develop a new mathematical theory, she or he is unlikely to hit a home run in the World Series, or score a goal in the Stanley Cup finals. For the theory of democratization to be true, sports figures should be just as marginalized as intellectuals.
I think what’s really going on here is a little more complicated. To truly appreciate a work of art about intelligent people would require an audience member to have some understanding of what they have actually achieved. This would require some intellectual effort on the part of the audience, an effort most people (including smart people) don’t want to make for the sake of entertainment.
Admiring a well executed sports maneuver, on the other hand, requires little cognitive effort on the part of the spectator. The bat connecting with the ball or the puck hitting the mesh at the back of the net are easily understood images.
Laziness – a characteristic a nation can be proud of.
Short Takes
Whimsy is the souffle of the film world: the slightest miscalculation in ingredients or production will make it fall flat. That’s what makes Amelie – the French film by the same director who made Delicatessen – such a wonder. It is so gentle that you expect the screen to float right out of the theatre as you’re watching, yet it is anchored by some wickedly funny scenes and a warm, generous heart.
Look for it at your local video store soon.
Can’t get enough of *spark? For more intellectual stimulation, go to the source: *spark online.