Midnight, the witching hour, and with Firebolt broomstick speed, the year's most eagerly-awaited book arrives. Two-inches thick, 720 grams, the cover, with its vicious, sinewy, scaly dragon breathing fire, shows Harry about to seize the golden egg. But what an anti-climax; what a disappointment; what a let-down. I expected Hedwig and owl post. My copy was delivered by a very obliging, polite, but nonetheless ordinary, everyday Muggle.
But the book itself is gloriously magical, and every pun that plays on wizardry and spellbinding is totally deserved. Being a series, there's the pleasure of familiar Hogwarts and characters whom we love or love to hate, the pleasure of anticipating new challenges. And being J.K. Rowling, the dazzling plot and pace are more impressive than ever. Her theme is always good versus evil but, despite repeating setting and theme, she does not produce anything predictable or merely formulaic. With each one, Rowling has produced original variations, this latest more interesting and more effective than ever. And throughout, Rowling taps into our Muggle desires.
A book of this size is a huge challenge to the young reader. It is also an enormous compliment. And Rowling carries it off with great skill. Cleverly, The Goblet of Fire begins obliquely: half a century ago a family died of fright in their drawing room, "still in their dinner things!". It could be an Agatha Christie until Rowling fast forwards to Lord Voldemort in that same house, now derelict, plotting the death of fourteen-year old Harry, who, 200 miles away, in Privet Drive, wakes from a nightmare containing that very plot. Prior to school, Harry visits the wonderful Weasleys and attends the Quidditch World Cup, especially exciting for Irish readers: Ireland meets and beats Bulgaria.
The World Cup is the first of seven terrific set pieces within the book: the Triwizard Tournament with its three tasks - dragons, underwater and a maze - the Yule Ball, the dungeon interrogation and the re-birthing of Voldemort in the graveyard are dramatic, visual, vivid and totally engaging. Above all, Rowling makes us see. Plot and sub-plot, interwoven hints and clues, twists and surprises keep us waiting and wanting more.
Visiting schools Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, characters Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum add new dimensions to this book - love interest, cultural identity, competitive excitement. In the second book, Rowling, who seems as sane as daylight and without an ounce of vanity, poked fun at Lockhart and his giant writer's ego; here she invents a Rita Skeeter who thrives on intrusive and inventive "journalism". Fantastic elements abound but nonetheless Rowling asks her readers to think serious thoughts about serious matters in Muggleland, including bullying, privacy, broken friendship, political self-advancement and, most movingly of all, the relationship between parent and child. Neville Longbottom is the butt of many a joke but smiles disappear when we discover his parents were tortured, are now insane, hospitalised, and no longer recognise him.
The gauche, giggling dating scene is as convincing as in today's school corridor. Dialogue between the young rings true. Scenes, details, jokes from this book - omnioculars, memory modification (Tribunal style!) Draco Malfoy as bouncing ferret, Harry's bath, Apparations, socks that scream when smelly, the riddling Sphinx - will be discussed in schoolyards up and down the country. The ugly, disturbing graveyard scene, the several deaths, including that of a Hogwarts pupil, will thrill readers but as ever with Rowling her readers learn. Looks don't always count; being yourself is everything; courage and kindness matter; racism and injustice and hooliganism are to be feared; fair wages and working conditions are only fair: "If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals."
There's simply too much to praise. On yer broomstick! Go get! Go read!
Niall MacMonagle teaches English in Wesley College, Dublin