By Joe Williams
Published: Sunday, Jun. 06 2004
(NOTE: images added by Frank Baker)
"Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar." So said Sigmund Freud,
cautioning armchair
analysts against applying his theories too broadly. But in the arts, a
cigar
can be a symbol of many things: maleness, wealth, Cuba.
Every cultural artifact, from grand opera to greeting cards, is what the
highbrows call a "text." And every text is loaded with what they
call
"signifiers" and regular folks call "symbolism."
Whether deliberately or by
accident, the hidden signifiers can allude to the whole spectrum of human
activity, from history to business to gender relations.
When academics bob for signifiers and bite them open, the game is called
semiotics, and it can be played with any text, including this one. You can
even
play it with your favorite text - you may be surprised. Indeed, decoding
hidden
messages is a vital activity for any informed citizen - and potentially
one of
the great pleasures of life in a media-saturated environment.
The sultan of semiotics, the late French philosopher Roland Barthes,
wrote
analytical essays on such lowbrow phenomena as detergent boxes and pro
wrestling. ("In America," he observed in the Commie-crazed
1950s, "wrestling represents a mythological fight between Good and
Evil of a quasi-political nature, as the bad wrestler is almost always
presumed to be a Red.") But for the beginner, symbolism is easiest to
glean from movies, especially those that are targeted at impressionable
kids and teenagers.
Consider the historical significance of the "Shrek"movies, which preach a message of
self-acceptance
at a time when grade-schoolers are crash dieting and the airwaves are
clogged
with reality shows about plastic surgery.
Or think about the Olsen twins - if you're not already. Their movie
"New York Minute"
can be a
springboard for
ruminations on subjects as far-flung as cloning, the influence of Japanese
anime on contemporary body image and the sexualization of underage teens
in the
Internet era.
Potter divides
But perhaps no cultural artifact is as ripe for decoding as Harry Potter.
Countless books, articles and Web sites have debated the meaning of the
Harry
Potter phenomenon. Like a shape-shifter, the young wizard has become all
things
to all people.
Many conservative Christians have based their condemnation of the Potter
stories on the Bible, particularly Deuteronomy 18: 10-11 ("There
shall not be
found among you anyone that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through
the
fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter,
or a
witch, or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or
a
necromancer").
"The Harry Potter novels are irreligious in their background and
philosophy,"
St. Louis Archbishop Raymond L. Burke recently told the Post-Dispatch. He
said
the plot summaries that he has read "have aspects that are contrary
to
Christian belief, and we have to be cautious about that."
Critics note that Harry dabbles in potions (i.e., takes drugs), resurrects
dead
spirits and poses as the redeemer (or false messiah) of his people.
Harry's
first magical communion is with a snake (get it?), and his world is filled
with
animals that traditionally signify darkness or evil - owls, frogs, rats
and
wolves - as well as such mythical beasts as unicorns, dragons and
phoenixes.
But signifiers are versatile things. Some liberal Christians, who have
largely
embraced the books as lessons in moral development, note for instance that
dragons are not always demonic. In Asia, dragons are symbolic of strong
leaders, and the legendary King Arthur of Great Britain had the surname
Pendragon, meaning ruler of the dragons. In this spirit, some Christians
interpret the Harry Potter books as fitting within a British tradition of
supernatural allegories.
A book by John Granger called "The Hidden Key to Harry Potter"
argues that
author J.K. Rowling has been embarked on an implicitly Christian endeavor,
in
the lineage of the Inklings, the Oxford University scholars who wrote such
Christian-themed fantasies as "The Lord of the Rings" (J.R.R.
Tolkien) and "The
Chronicles of Narnia" (C.S. Lewis). Harry and his friends Hermione
and Ron
represent, respectively, the qualities of spirit, mind and body that an
apprentice Christian must develop.
Granger, like a lot of Potter buffs, pays particular attention to the
Latin and
French roots of the names in the stories. The name of headmaster "Albus
Dumbledore" means "white bumblebee," and thus "pure
soul." "Gryffyndor," the
school group to which Harry belongs, means "Golden Griffin,"
with the
resurrected Griffin symbolizing Christ.
Even the name "Harry Potter" can be interpret as "son of
God": "Harry" equals
"heir-y," and "Potter" resonates with the biblical
image of God as the "potter"
who molds his people. However, a more prosaic explanation for the hero's
name
might be that it was borrowed from Nancy Stouffer's 1984 book "The
Legend of
Rah and Muggles," which includes a character named Larry Potter.
Stouffer sued
Rowling, unsuccessfully.
Some nondenominational critics have analyzed the Harry Potter series in
terms
of archetypes, gender roles and even economics. (After all, the movies are
released by the world's largest media conglomerate - AOL Time Warner - and
have
a promotional tie-in with Coca-Cola.) Psychologists have books and Web
sites
arguing that Harry Potter is a metaphor for the slow transition from
infantile
dependence to adult mastery. Dr. Harold Bloom, the influential literary
critic
from Yale, criticizes the Potter books for dumbing down the kid-lit
tradition
of Tolkien and Lewis, whereas feminist critics complain that, in the
books, the
boys are usually the rescuers while the girls are often gossipy sidekicks.
And then there are the Wiccans. Some adherents of pagan, druid or naturist
religions praise the books because they redeem witches from the stereotype
of
the evil old lady with a peaked hat, broomstick and cauldron. Others say
that
Harry Potter has nothing to do with real Wicca, as the wizards in the
stories
are all born into the craft rather than developing it freely. They also
note
that there is no Wiccan analog to malevolent practitioners like Voldemort
and
Malfoy.
Millions of kids are surely dismayed that their favorite fictional
character is
being kicked around like an ideological football. But that won't stop the
ongoing discussion, because in the semiotic free-for-all, everybody's
perspective is equally valid. For a semiotician, deducing Rowling's intent
is
not nearly as important as constructing a logical argument, and
contradictory
arguments can be pulled from the available evidence like taffy. Based on
proven
theories of persuasion, one could argue that if a sneaky Satanist (or a
benevolent Wiccan) wanted to popularize an alternative belief system,
attaching
it to a heroic character in a children's book might be an effective
strategy.
On the other hand, if a Christian author wanted to spread the Gospel
beyond the
already converted, an allegory that doesn't mention Jesus might have a
better
chance than a strictly Bible-based sermon. Although it's instructive that
Rowling has said that she loves Halloween, the novel "Lolita"
and the rock band
Siouxsie and the Banshees, the author has said little about her motives in
writing the books. When asked about her religious beliefs, Rowling will
say
only that she believes in a God and attends the Church of Scotland.
Signifiers multiply
Ultimately, what Rowling says or thinks is not that important, because
there's
no question that the Harry Potter books and movies are strewn with
signifiers,
some of which are easily decodable and some of which can do double duty.
For
instance, it's fairly obvious that racial-purist Draco Malfoy is blond
because
it signifies Aryan arrogance. In "The Prisoner of Azkaban," the
characters of
Remus Lupin and Sirius Black have names that clearly tip us to the kind of
animals they will morph into. (Lupin is derived from the Latin word for
"wolf";
"Sirius" is the so-called Dog Star.) Other signifiers, the kind
that can be
bent to one's own purposes, are offered up by the cottage industry of
amateur
sleuths who scour the stories in books and Web sites. Some analysts say
that
Harry's lightning-bolt scar alludes to the Nazi SS, whereas others say
it's a
veiled reference to the heavy-metal bands Black Sabbath, AC/DC and Kiss
(sometimes called, erroneously, "Knights in Satan's Service). And
who's to say
that the No. 7 on Harry's Quidditch uniform doesn't allude to celebrated
switch-hitter Mickey Mantle?
Strictly speaking, these wildly divergent interpretations are not lies. In
semiotics, signifiers can overlap, and interpretations are not mutually
exclusive. (It's "the Jungian thing," as Joker says about the
peace symbol on
his helmet in "Full Metal Jacket.")
Consider this scene from "Harry Potter and the Sorceror's
Stone": At the dinner
table, Hogwarts student Seamus Finnigan - a "half and half"
Muggle whose name
echoes James Joyce's allusive "Wake" - tries to turn water into
rum. It's a
moment that evokes an overlap of meanings, like an image of the 12
apostles
singing yo-ho-ho on a dead man's chest.
A clash of symbols is inevitable in an era when we've got more media - and
media analysts - than ever. In the information-based economy, controlling
the
symbols means controlling the debate - and thus controlling the customer
base,
whether the customers are ideological or actual. Thus, before "The
Passion of
the Christ," "The Day After Tomorrow" and the fast-food
expose "Super Size Me"
hit theaters, entertainment reporters were inundated with competing press
releases from interest groups that wanted to slant the coverage in their
favor.
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And nowhere is the battle over signifiers more life-and-death than in the
political arena. When the Iraqi Governing Council recently unveiled the
country's new flag, the people rejected it because the blue-on-white
iconography too closely resembled the flag of their archenemy, Israel.
Closer
to home, when a biker gang recently pulled up to the White House (with
'60s
icon Nancy Sinatra in tow), it was not unscripted. This is an election
season,
and everything the candidates do, say or signify is part of an evolving
text.
On a subliminal level, the color of John Kerry's sport coat could prove as
influential as the contents of the president's stock portfolio.
Influences add up
With so many crisscrossing avenues of communication, from movies to
advertising
to the news crawl at the bottom of our TV screens, analyzing symbolism is
not
only an intellectual pastime, it's a social responsibility. If we know who
created the message, and for what purpose, we are better immunized against
toxic influences. A semiotically astute populace is more resistant to
propaganda. So the moral of this story is that analyzing messages is
something
that we need to teach our citizens, especially the young ones. It's an
academic
discipline called media literacy, and there is a nationwide movement to
incorporate it into school curricula.
Although young people think they're already pretty good at sniffing out
b.s.,
their very skepticism can be used against them by clever advertisers,
politicians and entertainers. (Paul McCartney recently admitted in an
interview
that the Beatles song "Day Tripper" was in fact an endorsement
of LSD, as
conservative critics had long suggested.) So we can't rely on kids to
develop
these skills alone.
The Center for Media Literacy (www.medialit.org) has developed a
curriculum for
teaching critical skills to schoolchildren. The core recommendation is
that
kids ask the following questions about every story or message they
receive:
Who created the message?
What techniques are used to attract my attention?
What lifestyles, values and points of view are presented in or omitted
from the
message?
Why was this message sent?
How might different people understand the message differently from me?
A simpler (and perhaps more cynical) rule of thumb is the one that is
handed to
rookie journalists: Follow the money. Every story is trying to sell us
something, whether it's a worldview or a Whopper.
When asked what worldview she is peddling, Rowling said in a 1999
interview
that the Harry Potter series "is really about the power of
imagination. What
Harry is learning to do is develop his full potential. Wizardry is just
the
analogy I use."
If analyzing the messages in the Harry Potter franchise produces a
generation
that can shape raw data into wisdom, that might be the greatest magic of
all.
Critic Joe Williams
E-mail: joewilliams@post-dispatch.com
Phone: 314-340-8344
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