My dearest Gioia, my dearest Rahel
I feel more than honoured to be given the possibility to write this guest post on your lovely blog. Reading your posts has become part of my weekly routine over the last months. I simply love the adorable letters you’re writing to each other. Given the fact that I haven’t been around you two a lot during the last months (okay well, to be honest, I haven’t really been around Gioia for several years now…), I really appreciated being regularly informed about your lifes and your reading activities by reading your blog.
Since you two appear to be spending a really great time in beautiful Norway at the moment, I will help out and write a few words about this month’s novel, which, coincidentally, I’ve already finished. But, knowing that you girls (and also your most loyal reader Christa) haven’t read the book yet, I will give my best to keep from spoiling too much. Before I start with my thoughts on the most awaited play script of the year, let me begin with a few words about my summer days here at home. (You see, I am trying very hard to adapt to your way of writing these blog posts.)
As you’ve already noticed, my English is slightly (I wish) imperfect which I am terribly sorry for. I thought about writing this post in German but I wouldn’t want to prevent your readership from being able to read about how Harry Potter is doing as a father. I am afraid you have to deal with my stammering and stuttering.
Being back from Paris since the beginning of July, I spent the last weeks either enjoying summertime with my friends and family or sitting in the library writing yet another annoying paper for university. Don’t worry, I will spare you the information about the latter activity and focus on the good sides of life. Luckily enough, this year’s summer is very kind to us, giving us much sunshine and heat (I’m sorry, Rahel, but heat in summer still is an absolute must for me). As you two already know, during my stay in Paris, I really have missed being outside, spending time in the garden or going on walks in my beloved forest. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely had the time of my life in the city of love, but still I cannot deny my roots and my constant longing for fresh air and wildness. That’s why my last weeks were filled with a lot of strolls with the dog, morning runs breathing in the fresh air, barbecues in the family garden, sitting on the board of the Rhine getting tanned and building big bonfires. I enjoyed the calmness of it all, the regained peace after some soul-stirring months in Paris.
Of course I was (and still am) missing Paris and the people I left there. But my wonderful family and friends – not to be forgotten the most adorable baby in the world – made my return rather easy. Still, I am actually really missing you girls and my flatmate to be who are having the craic (shout out to all the Irish out there J) in the country of the fjords. There, apparently, you even haven’t got the time to read the “eight volume” of the best story ever written.
I am doing quite well in writing this transition to the book part, am I not ;)? Well, successful transition or not, let’s talk about Harry Potter and the Cursed Child now. Not too easy a task considering the still surprising fact that I am the only one of us who has read it yet. I won’t say much about the plot, I promise.
To begin with, let’s address the fact that Harry Potter probably is the most important story of my childhood. It actually is quite possible that the fantasy world J.K. Rowling created and all the adventures delight and wisdom it contains, was the one I identified most with as a child. If you asked little Louanne, reading the books was over way too quickly and absolutely not enough, that’s why I literally used to live in this world. I give you some examples: There was a period in my childhood when my friend and neighbour Luca and I wouldn’t get tired of pretending being Harry and Hermione. Back then, Luca’s dad wasn’t even allowed to call me by my proper name… Then, with my brother Cédric we invented a game based on the various episodes in the book where Harry and his friends are followed by scary Filch and his even scarier cat Mrs Norris: Just imagine two crazy kids playing hide and seek and making the famous Filch-noises which used to scare us to death even the hundredth time we played it. Moreover, I remember that also while playing the Harry Potter computer game with Tanika (I won’t go into the details of how many afternoons we two spent in front of the screen catching some Bertie Botts beans), the task we were most afraid of wasn’t combatting Lord Voldemort, but sneaking through the library without being caught by Filch (okay, maybe the enormous spiders at the end of the second game scared us slightly more, but only slightly).
Well, I hope I’ve made my point by talking about all these random childhood memories connected with Harry Potter… There would be a lot more but I won’t annoy you any longer. To make it short: Harry Potter means more than a lot to me. I really am convinced that this story taught me more about live, friendship, loyalty and love than any other fictional novel I’ve read until know. Most of all, it taught me that you can’t divide the world into good and bad and that life is far from being black and white.
As you can imagine, I was simultaneously extremely excited and extremely sceptical as I learned about the publication of this eighth volume of the series. Also the (very remarkable) fact that J.K. Rowling decided to publish this continuation in form of a play script couldn’t eliminate my doubts. But I must say: I am very, very pleasantly surprised. I really am. Once I’ve started to read the book, I simply couldn’t stop turning the pages. A few hours later it was already finished. During these hours of intense reading and diving into my beloved wizard world, I remembered me as a child, reading past bed time, completely lost in the story. Maybe for me, these personal flashbacks really were the best about this new Harry Potter novel; once again being ten years old and watching with excitement how Harry, Ron and Hermione (or this time rather Albus and Scorpius) are fighting the Dark Lord. Furthermore, while reading the novel, I rediscovered my unconditional love for Ron Weasley, my admiration for Professor McGonagall and my infinite annoyance with Miss Umbridge. I love the fact that Rowling decided to write a story which involved a lot of going back in time. This means that while reading a new story in the Potter world you actually are able to relive all the well-known adventures of the other seven volumes.
Okay, that is it. I will keep my promise and shan’t say anything more. I just let you read. And I am so looking forward discussing the book with you.
Enjoy Norway’s beautiful sunsets and take care. And thanks again for giving me the opportunity for being an amateur blogger for one day.
I love you,