Peter John McLean

Hogwarts is Not Real (Black Humor)

Harry Potter was a below average kid in every way imaginable. A scrawny younger sibling with below average academics, behavioral problems, and no talents at all. He lived with his aunt and uncle because his parents died in a car crash, leaving him nothing and no one to care for him, except his aunt and uncle who are generally nonplussed by his presence.

He seriously lives in a fucking broom closet. His life sucks, no doubt. It isn’t his fault.

spacious condo, overlooking hallway

spacious condo, overlooking hallway

It is not his fault his parents were lousy drivers, or that his dirigible shaped uncle lobs insults at him all day long, or that his cousin Dudley is a fat-fuck demon child who bullies Harry all day long. None of this is Harry’s fault, but it speaks to his state of mind.

He’s a below average child who was orphaned as an infant and left to be raised by a psychopathic fatty and a witch mother with a crooked nose. So he sits and cries in his broom closet about his life, thinking about how he deserves so much more than a life of obsolesce and solipsism. It isn’t fucking fair.

And then, one day, while being dragged along with his piece of shit cousin, Dudley, wandering a zoo and just staring at the random displays…

…a fucking snake starts talking to him.

according to Occam's Razor this means I'm a wizard

according to Occam’s Razor this means I’m a wizard

Harry is shocked that a snake talks to him, but doesn’t immediately assume he’s crazy. No, of course not, when reptiles communicate with him in English he just kind of takes it in stride. Probably not a symptom of severe psychological illness.

Shit gets weirder.

Next, he gets a thousand letters in the mail. All day, every day. This certainly isn’t a psychological fantasy born out of his sense of abandonment. It’s much more likely to be the aggressive recruiting strategy of a boarding school for wizards.

Finally, after he mysteriously is taken away to some far off cabin by the woods, a half giant named Hagrid comes to rescue him from his mean parents and take him off to a wizarding school, promising him that he is a famous wizard, the son of two equally great magical people who definitely didn’t die in a car crash.

It’s a lovely story.

Harry Potter, abandoned orphan child who was dumped on pseudo parents who don’t love him turns out to be a brave hero wizard with friends and wise mentors. He’s a Quidditch pro from day one. He’s capable of talking to snakes. He saves the day in book after book.

But really. Does he do any of that in the real world? Did he have one modicum of skill at anything prior to the mystery fantasy school that suddenly showed up in his life?

No.

His life is curiously split up into two realms: reality where he is a failure; fantasy where is a hero.
Furthermore, J.K. Rowling even admits this shit,

It didn’t occur to me for quite a while that I was writing fantasy when I’d started “Harry Potter,”

This is because J.K. Rowling wasn’t writing fantasy, she was writing the tragic story of a marginalized orphan who lived in a broom closet with two shit-head parents and a fat-ass brother who bullies him on the rare occasions he isn’t at school, getting bullied. He isn’t going to a wizarding school where he is the hero, he’s been taken away to a hospital that can treat his severe delusions. J.K. Rowling knows this. She loves good literary fiction, she writes about characters. In this case, the entire seven book series is a deep foray into the mad world of an abused child. Anyone who has paid attention to J.K. Rowling’s writing and reading interests will note she has zero interest in writing fantasy stories.

All The Books Are About Harry Being Crazy

A close read of all seven books further shows that he is completely off the hinge. A few quick examples:

He kills Cedric when no one is around, the authorities rush in and – as you would expect – he blames it on Voldemort…who is in his head.

He runs hard into a brick wall in order to appear on the other side, in his fantasy world

He regularly has one on one visits with Dumbledore, the “headmaster” of this school. Obviously even the most caring headmaster can’t make time for three hundred students, but Harry can regularly talk about his feelings and gain insights from Dumbledore. Because Dumbledore is his psychiatrist. Oh you think that’s crazy? Read the next point.

Dumbledore has a convenient pensieve that they use to travel into memories…kind of like a childish, mentally insane perversion of exactly what therapy is.

After Harry shivs Cedric in the privacy of the labyrinth, everyone thinks he is crazy (spoiler alert: he is). No one believes him that Voldemort is really back (he’s a figment of Harry’s insanity, getting there in a minute). Even in his psych ward the other people think Harry is off his rocker.

Neither Can Live While the Other Survives

Okay, sharing some kind of soul bond with the embodiment of all evil in the world is both very strange and a generally useful plot device. But it also speaks to Harry’s state of mind. Even in the fantasy coping mechanism called Hogwarts, Harry cannot completely reconcile his splintered personality. So, to make sense out of his schizophrenic nightmares he explains them away. It’s totally normal to suddenly hear frightening voices shrieking at me, that’s the villain I have to defeat, he tells himself, like the delusional orphan that he is.

The strange and symbiotic relationship Harry and Voldemort share is one of the most obvious giveaways that Harry is a mentally unstable child trying to reconcile his own psychopathology. It allows him to feel better about the sharp pains he feels in his head (most likely from brain damage from an injury sustained that left his lightning bolt child abuse scar). His fantasy about Voldemort allows him to explain away voices in his head, and – the biggest giveaway – when he turns to complete psychopathy, visualizing himself as a snake and attacking people, he can use Voldemort as a get out of the holding cell free card.

So What is Hogwarts, Really?

The name Hogwarts is pretty weird, don’t you agree?

Kind of breaks down to something like Hog Ward.

Now let’s remember how British people pronounce things.

Ready?

Hague Ward.