'Watership Down' by Richard Adams

Set in England's Downs, a once idyllic rural landscape, this stirring tale of adventure, courage and survival follows a band of very special creatures on their flight from the intrusion of man and the certain destruction of their home. Led by a stouthearted pair of friends, they journey forth from their native Sandleford Warren through the harrowing trials posed by predators and adversaries, to a mysterious promised land and a more perfect society.

MY THOUGHTS:
My family can't always understand my reading choices. When he saw my current read, my oldest son said, 'Isn't that a bloodbath about rabbits killing each other?' I guess he's partly right, but that sentence falls far short of the epic this is. It's one of my favourite reads this year, and I'll never look at wild bunnies in quite the same way again. I love and appreciate each of the main characters like family members. It's easy to get totally sucked in to their journey, and even now, I'm humming Art Garfunkel's 'Bright Eyes', which was written as a sound track for this story.

Here's how it all goes down. Little Fiver was the runt of his litter, and holds no sway with the others at all, but he does have a rare gift of prophecy that enables him to foresee big trouble heading for his warren. (Readers are told upfront that residential developers have claimed the area for housing.) Fiver's older brother Hazel is the only one who'll listen, since he's seen Fiver's gift in action before. When the big chief brushes off their warning, they muster a small group of a dozen who dash for freedom in the nick of time. The rest of the novel recounts their adventures and perils.

While enjoying the hospitality of an aristocratic, super-sleek dude named Cowslip, they learn a shocking secret about his burrow. Later, they make the valuable friendship of Kehaar, a very cool black-headed seagull. Then later again, they come across Efrafa, the totalitarian regime of a controlling fuhrer rabbit named General Woundwort. All through the story, young Hazel, though not the smartest or strongest, proves himself to be a generous, big-hearted and able leader of their own little group.

I actually think it should be a compulsory read for wannabe chiefs rather than dry old text books. Anyone aspiring for a leadership role should study Hazel's successful approach. It's not just that he's level-headed, tactful, decisive and humble, although he's certainly all that. Hazel's biggest strength is recognising the unique strengths of his team members, and acknowledging ways in which they're superior to him. It's the very best skill to have. They all know that his directions are based on his interest in them as people, and respect him for it, grudgingly or otherwise.

And what a team it is! Fiver is the runt, but they'd be nowhere without his gift of second sight. Blackberry's innovative mind squeezes them out of many scary jams, and Dandelion, their storyteller, understands the importance of a strong tradition of myths and legends to keep a group's morale high. Even Bluebell, with his sassy one-liners, provides the quick wit that can boost the spirits, or at least the retaliative energy, of the whole company. Perhaps most of all, I love the gutsy Bigwig, who has more courage in his furry body than dozens of other literary heroes have all together! Seriously, what a guy! Together, under Hazel's wise and caring leadership, they each pool their individual resources to make one super rabbit body.

Richard Adams declares in his intro that he never intended the novel to be some sort of allegory or parable, but simply a tale about rabbits that he made up to amuse his daughters in the car. Well, sorry Richard! Sometimes readers must override an author's opinion and hijack a story for ourselves. This book is teeming with parallels and allegories for those of us who enjoy spotting them.

There's the Old Testament Exodus sentiment from the very start, when two brothers (Hazel and Fiver in this case) approach a mighty leader to appeal for the people's release, only to be mocked and refused. Then there's the Pilgrim's Progress momentum in the journey itself, which keeps us sticking with our small group, knowing that when they find what they're looking for, we'll sense the rightness in our own hearts too.

And there are several political and social analogies we can't help snapping up as mirrors of human nature. The rabbit 'owslas' or police forces are pecking orders of henchmen surrounding a chief. We can tell that each rabbit in the owsla appreciates his position of privilege, and secretly laps up the prestige directed his way. But the great warrens of Efrafa have turned sour under the leadership of General Woundwort, a dictator in the truest sense of the word. He clearly needs to be taken down, but genuinely believes that he's doing all the rabbits under his dominion a favour, by keeping them safe from harm. Instead, his radical restrictions are actually curtailing their fulness of life and causing them harm instead.

Overall, I think the biggest appeal for me is the dignity and relatability of the characters. In the grand scheme of things, aren't we humans a lot like Hazel's gang? We're edgy, vulnerable and a tad jumpy in our big wide world of threats and insecurity. We fear our own brand of 'elil' or enemies that lurk in shadows and may try to cut us down at any moment. But day after day, we rise up to keep going, clinging to friends who have proven true, and boldly trying to take a stand for what we deem important.

I have to call it one of those rare books I'd recommend to anybody. You must add it to your reading lists, it's so fresh and inspiring.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 or more like 🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

Totally Different, But Exactly the Same

I recently read Kazuo Ishiguro's The Remains of the Day, which reminded me strongly of another novel I read earlier in the year. After some head scratching, I realised it was The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger. At first I wondered how I could have missed it, the parallels are so striking. Both stories are set in the same decade, the 1950's, and the chief plot take place in under a week. In both cases, the main character sets off on a short journey. Holden Caulfield decides to skip school, so he can hang out in the city before going home to his family. And Stevens the butler has been given generous leave from his employer to take a driving holiday, and decides to visit an old friend. But most of all, both main characters narrate their stories in a similar manner as they travel. They each deliver streams of consciousness, in which sudden memories pop into their heads, and tug the stories into all sorts of meandering and revealing deviations, and dense backstory.

So overall, the biggest factor in common seems to be the resemblance of the two main characters. But hold on a minute! The more I think about that, the more totally crazy it seems. Nobody could possibly be more dissimilar than these two guys. Surely they are poles apart. The evidence of this is overwhelming.   

1) Stevens is a senior gentleman, and Holden is a 16-year-old.
2) Stevens takes every implicit social rule totally seriously, while Holden finds holes in everything, and takes no establishment seriously at all.
3) Stevens is fully committed to his post, and Holden is a free spirit, committed to nothing.
4) The decorous Stevens would never do anything that would raise an eyebrow, but sassy Holden has just been expelled from school.
5) Holden is attracted to girls, and attends a dance, hoping to strike it lucky with a one-night-stand. Stevens considers himself way removed from thoughts of romance at all, since it would take the focus off his all-important job.
6) Stevens doubts he'll ever pick up the knack of banter to suit his new employer, while Holden's smart-alec comments have long been his facade.
7) Stevens takes every opportunity to shovel pomp and ceremony on for appearance sake. Holden detests anything that remotely reeks of phoniness.
8) Stevens is the ultimate conformer, and Holden is the ultimate rebel.
9) Stevens is the sort of guy Holden would roll his eyes at, and maybe even despise for adding to all the pretension and snobbery at large in the world. And Holden would be way below Stevens' notice.

So why do these two main characters, polar opposites in almost every way, remind me of each other? I think it's because their minds keep skittering back to their deepest regrets, which sets them off trying to justify the inevitable self-recrimination that floods in. Then they each think out long and convincing rationales and justifications to help them hold their emotional pain at arm's length. These male protagonists stand for totally different values, yet in their innermost hearts, they're pretty identical. It makes me wonder whether we'd find this touching vulnerability true of most people, if only we'd give them a chance.

There are such big implications for us readers, who follow the circuitous reasoning and storytelling of both Stevens and Holden with sympathy and liking. Even though their personal ethics and priorities are each the inverse of the other, we are willing to spend the hours with them that it takes to read the books. If we can like two polar opposites, maybe we can like anybody, if we catch the fleeting common denominator that often remains hidden. I believe I've struck one of the benefits of reading novels. I'm beginning to think that anyone who claims to be a serious fiction reader surely can't hold grudges, form prejudice, or make snap judgments as easily as those who aren't. It must to occur to us some time that those we find most annoying or hard to understand, are possibly just the same as us where it counts.

Has this struck you the same way, along your reading journey?

'The Remains of the Day' by Kazuo Ishiguro

In the summer of 1956, Stevens, a long-serving butler at Darlington Hall, decides to take a motoring trip through the West Country. The six-day excursion becomes a journey into the past of Stevens and England, a past that takes in fascism, two world wars, and an unrealised love between the butler and his housekeeper. 

MY THOUGHTS:
I'd never read anything by Kazuo Ishiguro before, so picked it up when I saw it at the library. It's a stream of consciousness narrative by Stevens, the butler. His employer, Mr Farraday, has offered him a chance to take a driving break for a week. He decides to spend it by visiting Miss Kenton, a former head of household staff. Stevens wants to see if she'd consider coming back to resume her old post, since she's indicated her marriage may be shaky. On the way, he records some events that happen to him along the road, and also reminisces lots about days gone by. So the story lapses into frequent flashbacks.

Stevens turns out to be one of those super-polished butlers who live out their role 24/7. He refuses to let his personal life spill into his job, and slams so many doors, there's really no personal life left to seep in anyway. Brilliant British butlers were all about never being shaken out of their professional roles. He believes that a butler of any calibre must be seen to inhabit his post, and not take it on and off like a pantomime costume, and that only the British have the correct dignity and restraint to make the job an art form. Those of other nations were really only second-rate manservants, but the Brits were butlers to the core. So he reaches a point where he's stiff and starched even in his down-hours, which to Stevens, is a mark of total success.

Butlers also took great pride in accepting posts only from masters whose work they could totally respect and support, and Stevens has devoted most of his life to his former employer, Lord Darlington, who passed away three years previously. The poshest butlers are really serious about reflecting the glory of the great men they serve. In such a way, they consider themselves contributing their own input to world affairs. The bulk of Stevens' memories take place between the two World Wars, when Lord Darlington was sympathising with the Germans, who had such a huge financial and economic burden to carry because of the rough terms of the Versailles treaty. Nobody had a clue that certain unscrupulous Nazi's would take advantage of this simple man's generosity and manipulate it for their own purposes.

So what happens when the cause to which you've devoted your life turns out to have a shaky foundation? As the plot unfolds through flashbacks, we see how Lord Darlington, used as tool by the wrong hands, lived to be discredited and taken-down. His memory is an embarrassment to those who knew him, so should that reflect on Stevens too? He wonders if Lord Darlington's fall from grace means that he's wasted his own life.

Kazuo Ishiguro does a great job of getting Stevens to ponder these questions in such a subconscious way that he hardly realises he's even thinking along these lines. The occasions when he flatly denies ever having even worked for Lord Darlington are quickly explained away with some conscious rationale. And Stevens questions may apply to us readers, or at least get us thinking. Does misplaced zeal for anything mean that we've wasted heaps of time, or even squandered our lives?

Another regret Stevens skirts around is having wasted every opportunity for a deeper relationship with Miss Kenton. The memories he digs up shows that there was definitely a mutual attraction, but both were unwilling to take the plunge over the lines of respectability of their professional roles. Twenty years further on, it's a case of accepting the choices they believed were best at the time, and the lives they led to. They each shape their philosophy to equip them to handle the rest of their days with optimism.

Miss Kenton says, 'One cannot be forever dwelling on what might have been. One should realise one has as good a life as most, perhaps better, and be grateful.'

As for Stevens, he finally shapes his vague misgiving into words. 'I'll try to make the best of what remains of my day. What can we ever gain by looking back and blaming ourselves if our lives haven't turned out quite as we might have wished?' He decides that big sacrifices must be made wholeheartedly, and should be a cause for pride and contentment regardless of results.

It's a nostalgic but melancholic sort of novel that sets us pondering where our own priorities should lie. For me, they've never been about work first, and never will be. I prefer Pip's old chum Mr Wemmick from Great Expectations as a role model for a good work/leisure balance, and definitely not poor old Stevens. I haven't seen the movie, with Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson, but since it was nominated for eight Academy Awards, I'm wondering if I should.

🌟🌟🌟½

It's So Classic - Book Tag

It's So Classic Book Tag by Rebellious Writing

I was tagged for this fun blog post by two bloggers:
Joseph @ The Once Lost Wanderer
Ruth @ A Great Book Study

The Rules:
1) Link post back to the host.
2) Answer questions.
3) Tag five bloggers


One Classic that hasn't been made into a movie yet, but really needs to be.
I'm going with Elizabeth Gaskell's Mary Barton. There is so much crucial timing, and many incidents where disaster is averted by a cat's whisker. I was on the edge of my seat even reading it as a Victorian novel. Seeing it on the big screen would be superb. Especially when you consider the crime, mystery, romance and social commentary aspects.

Close behind would be L.M. Montgomery's The Blue Castle. What a beautiful, sensual, evocative movie it would be, filmed completely on location in Canada, of course. It hasn't been done without my knowledge, has it?

What draws you to classics?
That's an excellent question, since I also love the idea of advocating hidden gems.
The thing with classics is that for some things, majority rules apply, and choosing reading material is a great example. Going with the crowd is a fair gauge when many, many people have agreed on a book's depth, beauty, truth and relevance for all time. We know we are more likely to get some potentially life-changing idea to ponder. The possibility applies to all books, but I guess with classics, the chances are higher.

What is an underrated classic?
The Fountain Overflows, by Rebecca West. It evokes a poor family, trying to keep up appearances in the Edwardian Era so beautifully, I had my notepad out to scribble down wisdom quotes all the way through. The mother of the family, Clare Aubrey, also deserves a higher profile for holding things together so bravely, but she's overlooked because the classic she's in is so underrated.

What is one classic that you didn't expect to love, but ended up loving anyway?
Uncle Tom's Cabin. I resisted to start with, because I expected tragic propoganda. The high opinions of some other readers swayed me most, and I'm glad I listened. What I got was a touching tale with plenty of bravery, some happy endings for certain characters, plenty of adventure and lots of food for thought.

What are your most favourite and least favourite classics?
I might choose Our Mutual Friend for most favourite, even though I read it fairly recently. It was Charles Dickens' last completed novel, and all the good things he ever brought to his stories were in full play. Keep in mind, this might change down the track.

Now, I hope I don't get people booing me, because this is bound to be controversial, but for one least favourite, I feel inclined to pick Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca. I just couldn't understand what the heroine saw in grumpy old Maxim deWinter, who strikes me as the complete antithesis of an appealing hero. The old grouch wasn't even nice to her until the very end. I could sympathise with Mrs Danvers and Rebecca's cousin Jack, who were correct in their suspicions about him the whole time. Yet they were supposed to be the baddies of the piece. Go figure!

Who is your favourite character from a classic?
Since it's impossible to narrow this question down to just one person, I'll rattle off a list of great characters whose heroic attitudes make a great impression on me. Konstantin Levin, Roger Hamley, Winnie the Pooh, Anne Shirley, Dorothea Brooke, Francie Nolan, and many others who don't instantly spring to mind.

I always have a soft spot for rebels and vulnerable rascals too, so although they're generally not considered super-hero material, and maybe even the opposite, I still consider them favourites. Holden Caulfield, Eugene Wrayburn, Draco Malfoy, Ivan Karamazov, Edmund Pevensie, to name a few. 

What's a popular classic that you felt wasn't that great?
The Phantom of the Opera. It was a bit of a train-wreck full of drama queens the whole way through, and I was face-palming with every page.

Who is your favourite classic author?
Those writing in the Victorian era are high on my list, including the Brontes, Charles Dickens, George Eliot and Elizabeth Gaskell. Children's authors need to be up there too, since they give us our first brush with classics. L.M. Montgomery, A.A. Milne, Laura Ingalls Wilder and Louisa May Alcott, to name a few.  And although I wasn't a kid when Harry Potter was first released, I'll add J.K. Rowling, because she's still alive, and doing great things for literature of the 21st century.

Relating to newer books, what attributes does a book need to have in order to be worthy of the title 'classic'? 
Pretty much the same attributes I rattled off for the earlier question about what draws me to classics. Depth, beauty, truth, and great characters - all of which provide a mirror for ourselves, and help us decide how to form our own personal characters, and what may need to change. Just because they've been published more recently, if they have all this, they deserve to be bumped up to classic status without the passage of decades of time.

As for tagging, I've never been great at passing on the baton, and time has almost ticked away! I'm sure they won't have time now, but I'll mention five bloggers whose opinions I'd be interested to see, even if it's just a few lines in the comments. 

Brian @ Babbling Books
Sheree @ Keeping up the with Penguins
Jane @ Reading, Writing, Working, Playing
The girls @ Pages Unbound
Becky @ Becky's Book Reviews 

'Uncle Tom's Cabin' by Harriet Beecher Stowe

The narrative drive of Stowe's classic novel is often overlooked in the heat of the controversies surrounding its anti-slavery sentiments. In fact, it is a compelling adventure story with richly drawn characters and has earned a place in both literary and American history. Stowe's puritanical religious beliefs show up in the novel's final, overarching theme—the exploration of the nature of Christianity and how Christian theology is fundamentally incompatible with slavery.

MY THOUGHTS: 
This is my choice in the Classic Tragedy section of the 2019 Back to the Classics Challenge. I left this category until almost last. To say I was reluctant coming into it would be an understatement. Cruelty and heartache remain on my mind for ages to the extent that it's easier to dodge their influence. When I saw the sub-title, 'Life Among the Lowly', I was even more reluctant to enter in. But I knew this challenge would be the best way to get myself reading a classic that helped shape history. To encourage myself even more, I purchased a beautiful Canterbury Cloud edition. And now that I've finished, in all honesty... it was brilliant!

It's packed full of triggers for the softest-hearted readers among us, so be prepared to get really angry and wish you could teleport back into the story to kick a few butts. Nothing presses my buttons quite like seeing such outrageous times as these, where some human beings were denied all rights and treated as commodities by others. It's full of slave owners, like Mr Shelby, who mess around splitting families without a qualm, to get themselves out of personal jams. And slave traders, like Mr Haley, in the profitable business of selling fellow humans to feather his own nest.

It begins when Mr Shelby, swamped with debt, decides to sell two valuable slaves to help make ends meet. One is a four-year-old boy named Harry, full of health and potential. The other is everyone's favourite pal, the pious and capable 'Uncle Tom' who basically keeps the plantation running. When word of the deal spreads, Harry's mother Eliza flees with her son under cover of night, and her husband George follows them. However, Tom decides to play by the corrupt rules and leave his fate in God's hands. The book switches between both plights, so we keep up with Eliza and her family, and also with Uncle Tom, who experiences both ends of the spectrum when it comes to future purchasers.

At first he strikes up a friendship with a beautiful little blonde girl named Eva, who he saves from drowning when she falls overboard from a paddle-steamer. It seems like a no-brainer for her grateful dad to purchase Tom, and things go well at this stage. But later, after a series of tragedies, the worm turns and Uncle Tom finds himself with the despicable Simon Legree.

My favourite character is Little Eva's attractive young father, Augustine St Clare. He's a firm believer in the evils of slavery, but is too passive for a long time to stand against the big-wigs. Augustine can't stomach the system, yet has a natural distaste for confrontation. He's convinced himself that treating his own slaves kindly is his contribution to humanity, but grapples with the suspicion that it still falls short of a true man's stand. Augustine's character is a real prod for any of us who ever choose to stay mute, out of conviction that nobody will listen anyway. He's got a great way with words, a sharp wit, and gives some of the best lines in the book.

Then there's Simon Legree. Whoa, I've got to say it, this guy is possibly the biggest son-of-a-bitch in literature. You'd have to search far to find his equal, for there could be no-one worse, and I've read a lot of books. Sling your best insults and they'd be sure to fit him. He could be called a waste of oxygen, a blight on whoever he crosses paths with, and proof that his parents should have used contraception. And his ramshackle plantation is like the house from hell, a match for his bullet-headed appearance and foul nature. Selfish and brutal to the core, he stands for all the men who were enabled to do whatever they liked in those evil times, because they were doing nothing illegal. Some of his own quotes speak for him. 'I used to doctor them when they was sick, but lost money on 'em, so use 'em up and buy more is my way. Don't go for saving n----rs. Frail ones last for two or three years, but I can get six or seven years out of strong ones.' And there's plenty more quotes where those came from.   

The only thing as sickening as Simon Legree is the attitude of some of the misguided Christians of the time, who preached that it's God way to keep some high and others low. At least there are plenty of good Christians, like those from the Quaker settlements who helped George and Eliza, to balance the corrupt influence throughout the book. And the good abolitionists who were willing to wake up any time of the night to do their bit for escapees.

I never thought I'd be the one to say this about such a sad story, but the content is horrific, confronting and disgusting enough for it to deserve a five star mark. I've noticed a recent trend in which offensive books from the past are being banned or softened to suit the politically correct sensibilities of modern readers. Some decision makers believe that since we're in a new era, we need to leave our sordid past behind. Well, Uncle Tom's Cabin is the sort of book that strengthens my opposite opinion. We need to let them stand as they are. How can future generations learn from history if it's erased behind them like a bad piece of homework? Removing all traces of what happened lets humanity off the hook too. 'We don't talk about that,' is never a responsible attitude, yet it's a stance taken too often by librarians, leaders, publishers and school boards who seem to have the klout to make decisions for us all. What a travesty to sweep past events and mindsets under the carpet, and to do so dishonors the memories of heroes like the brave Quakers in this novel, and authors like Harriet Beecher Stowe, who deserve to be heralded for all time for their courageous stands.

Talking about Beecher Stowe herself, a quick bit of research on her really wowed me. It seems she suffered Alzheimer's when she grew old, and spent the last few years of her life totally re-writing Uncle Tom's Cabin. In her own mind, she was writing it for the very first time, fueled by the same burning conviction that she had to stand up for those who had no voice of their own. And when people compared that version with the published one, they were remarkably similar all through. What perfect proof that she considered it her life's mission, and gave it her all.

I guess this review is way long enough, but there are other great characters too, such as little Topsy the slave girl, who stand out as awesome.

I am taking a half mark off purely for a personal reason. I don't take kindly to my favourite character being killed off for a plot device. Especially when he had so much left to give, and the author's purpose for his demise was clearly to make things worse for Tom. But the fact that it's merely half a star shows how much I value this book in spite of such a big drawback. It's so well worth a read.

🌟🌟🌟🌟½

Big Changes In Store

It's a big announcement time. For those who know me, I've been a homeschooling parent since the very early 2000's. The fun ride finally finished this year, when my youngest son turned 15 and moved on to 'proper' Year 10 study online, with Open Access College. So I've run out of young ones to keep under my wing. What's more, it's meant that I've had to stick my neck out and find some other way of employing my time that will satisfy Centrelink. I'm starting a Master of Divinity at Tabor College in Adelaide. It's going to be a fascinating ride, but also daunting, because I never expected to return to full-time study, yet here I am.

What will that mean for the future of this blog? I enjoy writing free-flowing reflections about books I've read, especially my return to the classics in recent years. It helps me feel as if I've digested them to the fullest extent, allowing any literary vitamins to nourish my spiritual cells. And I love the freedom to be my unapologetic self, to deliver what I consider to be original, honest opinion pieces with no frills. They're free from what I consider injections of hormones and preservatives; that is the addition of academic waffle from outside experts who seem to think in meandering text-book language. I've been poring over my course material, and words such as 'exegesis' and 'teleological' are already making my head spin. I don't want to give up the enjoyable chewing of my cud I've thrived on for years.

But the fact is, my reviews, book lists and blog posts take hours to prepare. And my new course workload is heavy enough that I'll have to ruthlessly pull back on blog time. I've never been much good at the sort of computer games which require a wide spread of attention. Do you know 'Whack the Squirrel'? You have to keep your eye on several different holes in the ground, and be the first player to hit any small, protruding head with your mallet. I'm always last. Or how about the classic challenge of keeping plates spinning? You have to be always keyed up enough to fix the ones that are slowing down. In no time at all I feel scattered, unfocused and anxious. I hate the impending disaster of smashing plates. I'll have to prioritise study, or I can predict I'll be a total mess. But I refuse to pull the plug on this blog, because I love it.

So here's what will happen in the next few months until November.
1) Gaps of a fortnight, (or maybe even three weeks under pressure) instead of weekly posts.
2) The occasional resurrection of blasts from the past which I intend to tweak like new. They might be posts that have received a bit of love, or others I feel haven't received the love they deserved, and need another chance.
3) A way slower output of new material, but not a total stop.
4) I also post book related content on Instagram, which doesn't make it on this blog, so feel free to follow my Bookstagram account.

One final bit of trivia
Just for curiosity, I took a look at the word count of several of my blog posts, and it turns out they average 1.5 to 2000 thousand words. That happens to be the typical length of a University assignment. So for the last several years, I've been giving myself a virtual tertiary education by studying classics, taking copious notes about them, and then writing reflection posts, reviews and extensive lists. The only difference is that I never ended up with a qualification, but if I could be paid, even just a little bit, for keeping up this blog, I'd happily devote all my time to it. I'll also take this moment as a shout-out to all the other hard-working book bloggers I follow who can surely say exactly the same thing.

If you enjoy following this blog, I sure hope you'll bear with me and stick around. And when our summer holidays arrive toward the end of the year, I'll be back on board to pump out fresh content, to take us into 2020.

Was Severus Snape a Good Person?

Warning: Plot spoilers for the Harry Potter series. 

Rarely do we come across a more polarising character than this guy! He's a bone of contention in my family to the point that I predict heated words whenever I hear the name 'Snape'. My daughter had an intense argument with her brother and cousin way into the early hours of the morning about this very question. Is Severus Snape a good guy or not? She said, 'I can't stand Professor Snape, because he's so nasty and horrible.' The boys replied, 'That's insane. Don't you know everything he did was for Harry?' They kept shouting their separate points of view, nobody gained any ground, and they ended up going to bed with the matter unresolved. But after pondering the argument while planning this blog post, I had an idea where they all came unstuck. Maybe the word 'good' is too ambiguous at times, which definitely includes occasions when the subject is Snape. I think it is possible to come to some sort of agreement about him, but we've got to be sure we're using the word 'good' in the same way before we begin a discussion.

If we take it to mean, 'Is he brave, smart and moral?' then the answer is YES.

Harry owes Snape big time. There's so much evidence to support this. Snape secretly protected Harry on numerous occasions. To mention just a few, he prevented him from being killed by Quirrell during his very first Quidditch match, he shielded the Golden Trio from Remus Lupin in his werewolf form, he alerted the Order when he knew Harry and Co were off on a wild goose chase to the Ministry basement, he lied to Dolores Umbridge about his store of Veritaserum, and of course, his doe patronus led Harry directly to the Sword of Gryffindor. For someone who had to do his good deeds away from the scrutiny of the Dark side, he did a pretty thorough job. 

Dumbledore owes Snape big time. Who else would be smart enough to pull off the dangerous double-agent act he'd been playing for years? Severus was walking a very fine line which ended up being the death of him. He had to be a brilliant actor during those years. Imagine anybody else managing not to turn a hair when the doomed Muggle studies teacher pleaded with him for her life. Or anyone else managing to withstand all Voldemort's attempts to use Legilimency on him, to uncover his true motives. The old headmaster had complete faith in his potions master, which turned out to be well-founded. Snape was the only one who could end the suffering old man's life in the way he desired.

Remus Lupin owes Snape big time. This one was done under sufferance, I grant you that. But still, Remus' old school companion was the only one qualified to concoct the Wolfsbane potion, enabling him to control his werewolf manifestions for as long as he wanted to continue teaching at Hogwarts. There's a lot of irony there. Don't you love it when Snape asks, 'Are you out for a little stroll in the moonlight, Remus?'

The Malfoy family owes Snape big time. He wasn't kidding when he made the Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa, promising to protect her son Draco to the extent of fulfilling Voldemort's horrendous mission in his place. That's exactly what he did. And he hid the fact from Voldemort that Draco caved in and failed to carry out the evil task to the letter, enabling the boy to stay alive. I guess he repaid Lucius for taking him under his wing when he was a little first year student, sorted into Slytherin House.

Nobody can deny Severus Snape was a brave and intelligent man who played his hand successfully until the very end, to the benefit of many others. So he was a great person, but was he a good person?

If we take it to mean, 'Is he nice or kind?' then the answer is NO. 

Sure, he claims to have done everything out of love for Lily Potter, but that was strictly on his own terms. He had an opportunity to prove his undying love every day in a way she would have appreciated, but refused to take it. Lily would have wanted him to be kind, or at least not spiteful, to the son she died for. Instead, Snape treated Harry appallingly. He made no attempt to hide his genuine dislike, because of Harry's resemblance to his father. Severus seemed to prove over and over, by lashing out, that his hatred of James was stronger than his love for Lily. (My boys argue, 'But that was all part of the act, to throw the dark side off his scent.' I think that's only true up to a point, since Snape took such obvious pleasure in his vindictive treatment of Harry.)

He was the teacher from hell, treating several students (mostly Harry's friends) horribly. He punishes Hermione and calls her an insufferable know-it-all for no other reason than being adept in his subject and knowing the correct answers. He terrifies Neville until he's a bundle of nerves and can't think straight in his class. In the movies, he smashes Harry's and Ron's heads together a countless number of times. If your definition of being a good person means that lovely thoughts shine forth for everyone to see, then no way is Severus your man! His mind was a resentful, gloomy, bitter, angry, spiteful cesspool more stinking than anything brewing in his cauldrons. 

My son said, 'Just because he had a dour, sarcastic personality, should we hold that against him?' Well, in some ways it's hard not to. Remember when Hermione was jinxed with a spell that made her teeth grow as long as a beaver's? Snape sneered, 'I can't tell the difference.' Who needs such a teacher in a school?

Sure, he was a hero and a legend, and I love every scene he's in, yet it's hard to bring myself to call him a good person. I know I surely differ from many fans here.

I'll always believe that his great love for Lily was a bit questionable all along, since he didn't care whether her husband and son rotted in hell. I wasn't impressed by the scene where he cradles her corpse to his chest and ignores the traumatised baby in the cot behind him, who has just lost his parents and been blasted by the Dark Lord.

I'll always believe being poor little Neville's boggart was nothing to be proud of!

And a person who invented a vicious spell like Septumsempra certainly wasn't driven by feelings of peace and goodwill toward the human race. 

I'll never stop thinking that Harry and Ginny were being overly generous for choosing Severus as their son's middle name.

And I still believe that my son and nephew, as much as they choose to defend him, would have dreaded Potions lessons just as much as anyone else had they been Hogwarts students in any house other than Slytherin.   

But if you still can't get enough of this guy, Severus Snape is on my list of Bad Boys with Depth.
He's also on my list of Worst Teachers Ever.