I was right. I've just finished the book about an hour ago and I've only managed to stop crying just now. I cannot make up my mind how I feel about everything. Many of the deaths came too quick and unexpected. One in particular, I thought I was prepared for, but when faced with the reality of it .... found I was not. My favorite character died. No, I'm not going to tell you who it was, but they were my favorite and I mourn their loss. Yes, I can see as a writer and also enjoyer of a good tale, how it was necessary that this character should die ... nevertheless, my mind whirls with the possibility of "was there another way?"
I still must applaud Rowling. The entire story was a masterstroke and it probably feels wonderful to have completed it. I think I had held up remarkably well until the last two pages. Yes, I'd cried, but nothing like this. Once you get there, you'll know what I mean. I cried like someone I actually knew had died.
I will say this, the book wasn't all good, and it wasn't all bad. It was ... a necessary conclusion. It was bittersweet. I had figured out most of the main points, which were clarified in book seven, long before now. Not because I'm any great genius, but because I loved the books good enough to take a thorough interest in the development and personalities of the characters. You see, once upon a time, I was going to be a psychologist, and I take great interest in what makes people tick. Even fictitious people. That's why I enjoy being a writer so much.
I was both pleased and heartbroken when my favorite character turned out to be just as I had thought them to be. Just as brave ... and just as broken. Perhaps even suffering more than Harry himself by the time it was all said and done. My poor hero. I had really wanted to be wrong about some of this. But if I was, it would have made this character's suffering and indeed their whole purpose in vain. We couldn't have that, now could we?
I won't tell you who it was, because I think people who do things like that are pricks. I've actually avoided the news and most of the Internet for the past week so no one could ruin it for me before I had a chance to finish the book. I'll probably end up sleeping most of the day tomorrow ... no wait, that's today. Because I can't sleep now. Not after what I've just read.
I've also called and awakened a friend of mine whom I knew would understand. The other friend I called when I couldn't immediately reach him was still awake:) Good morning, Priscilla. As for you, Alan. You're probably walking your dog a bit early this morning. Sorry:) Enjoy your coffee, and stop giving caffeine to the dog. If you're reading this though ... you're right. I just needed to hear your voice. As a matter of fact, I'm about to call you again right now.
As for everyone else out there. Was it worth it? Should you even bother seeing what happens after all? Absolutely. It reminds me of a song I heard years ago in school. And if you've read some of my other posts, you'll know I don't often listen to country music. The reason is, it makes me cry.
But I remember a song by Garth Brooks called The Dance. In this song he says he's glad he didn't know, "The way it all would end, the way it all would go." Because he could have missed the pain, but he might have missed the dance.
Yes, the conclusion was painful. But it was a dance that I enjoyed and would gladly take part in again ... even knowing how it all would go.