I must confess that I have found that most extremely popular fiction tends to leave me more than a little cold. I like very little of Stephen King, John Grisham, the Oprah ouvre or post-Red Storm Rising Clancy, and even within the Fantasy genre, I will confess I consider Robert Jordan's work to be little more than an exercise in reader masochism. I am not a literary snob, though, just a skeptic, and so amidst the hooplah of the fifth Harry Potter release, I decided to give the young wizard a shot.

I can't say that I was disappointed, in fact, I was rather pleasantly surprised with the books' eminent likability. As more distinguished reviewers have written, Mrs. Rowlings has done a delightfully effective job of writing the classic English boarding school novel in the shape of a fantasy. If there is very little that is new conceptually, (and there is very little new to anyone who has read much in either genre), it is nevertheless new to the vast majority of the young readers who make up its intended audience. The orphaned, yet adored Harry makes for an intriguing protagonist, and his two companions - not to forget his malicious foil Malfoy - draw us into the story through their very effective characterizations. But for all its solid entertainment, I really don't expect this series to stand the test of time as well as those of Lewis, Cooper or even Alexander, as there simply isn't much depth, moral or stylistic or plotwise, there. Harry Potter et al is a fun series, a good story and a successful franchise, but it does not come close to approaching literary greatness, not even as a work for children.

Style: The writing is straightforward and simple, almost astylistic. It was a tremendous shock to read these directly after Perez-Reverte's latest, but then, Mrs. Rowlings is presumably writing for children, so one can't be too hard on her there. She has a nice feel for names, indeed, she uses them as an effective characterization tool, although her grasp of etymology does not exactly rival Tolkein's - you'd have to be in fifth grade not to understand the origins of many of the names. One suspects that her Englishness helps her tremendously in this regard, as the difference between English and American is enough to create the illusion of a modicum of a literary style which does not actually exist.

Story: I thought the basic plots were surprisingly weak, especially since I'd never heard anyone mention anything negative about them. I think the success of the series owes much more to their setting than to the actual plots, which are downright pedestrian. While the basic storyline of the first book was reasonable, only the shocking appearance of Lord Voldemort prevents the reader from realizing how stunningly lame the climactic battle is. Not one, but two deus ex machinas, only one of which is reasonably defended. I actually re-read Dumbledore's explanation of the victory twice, before hearing myself say out loud: "are you kidding me?" The second book is plotted better, but the storyline suffers due to the fact that Harry's transformation from school hero to potential villain is simply never convincing, not for a moment.

Characters: These are the saving grace of the books - in my opinion they are what makes the books so successful and also explains why no one calls a Harry Potter book anything but Harry Potter X. The stories don't matter quite as much here, because the reader just cares so much about Harry and his friends. He is a poignant protagonist, superior enough that the reader wants to be him, but he is flawed enough to make the dream feel plausible. And the other characters are well-sketched too... who cannot remember Hermione in their fifth-grade English class, too bright to understand that showing up the rest of the class every single freaking day is not the road to popularity. The awkward, but loyal sidekick and the arrogant rich kid may be stock characters, but Mrs. Rowlings hits their essence precisely, which can't help but strike a resonant chord within the reader. One gets the feeling that the author is likely a rather shrewd judge of human nature.

Creativity: Significantly less than one would imagine from reading the many accolades. The author appears to fall into the Great Poet category, given how many elements she has shamelessly stolen from other authors. But, it is not a thoughtless Tolkein imitator, like half the fantasies out there, and the author's whimsical descriptions and little innovations are enough to make the borrowed elements feel fresh.

Now, quidditch is inadvertantly creative, but primarily in that it suggests the author has never witnessed an actual sporting event and also fails to understand that rough competitive equality is the basis on which all sports operate. The rules of the game are totally absurd; most of the teams' activities are pointless because the end result depends almost entirely on the Seeker. To put it into perspective, imagine that a basketball game were played as usual, except that each team had sixth player who shot a separate ball from 75 feet away. When one player makes his first long-distance basket, worth 150 points, the game ends. Sounds pretty stupid when you put it that way, doesn't it? But that's what Quidditch bowls down to - the concept could work if the snitch were very seldom caught in a game, but since no game ends until the snitch is caught that means it will always be caught - no, the whole thing is just ridiculous. But hey, flying broom sticks! Doesn't anyone else ever think about these things?

Text Sample: Three boys entered, and Harry recognized the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigget. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."