Roberta Seelinger Trites
Illinois State University
The Harry Potter Novels as a
Test Case for Adolescent Literature
When I first read J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
(1997), I did not understand its mass appeal. It is clever and charming, but it is also
episodically plotted, relatively predictable, derivative of Baum, Lewis, und Dahl,
and it is altogether more sexist than it needs to be. But as [ read the final chapter,
I discovered Rowling’s secret ingredients: the book portrays parents’ love as
omnipotent, and it provides a reassuring message about death. These represent two
of the most essential ingredients of children’s literature.' As a whole, the series also
Participates in the traditions of adolescent literature. As the characters in the series
grow older, the books shift solidly onto the terrain of adolescent literature. The
characters learn to recognize their autonomy from their parents, but death becomes
more threatening, more of a menace, than it is in the first Harry Potter book.
Moreover, the Potter books demonstrate another defining characteristic of
adolescent literature: the characters begin to explore their sexuality. Throughout
the series, the books also rely on social institutions to proscribe adolescents” place
in society. Thus, as a series, the Harry Potter books provide us with the opportunity
to interrogate what constitutes adolescent literature.
Although the task of defining adolescent literature has engaged numerous
scholars, many do so by comparing the genre to adult rather than children’s
literature. Certainly, both children’s and adolescent literature were greatly
influenced by Romanticism. Indeed, the first novels to focus on the transition
between childhood and adolescence were written during the Romantic era;
Goethe's Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship (1795-96) is often cited as the first
such novel. Labeled “Bildungsromane” by such literary critics as Susanne Howe,
G. B. Tennyson, and Jerome Buckley, the coming-of-age novel focuses on the
development of the adolescent into an adult. Buckley, for example, defines an adult
as one who has achieved the capacity to work and love, but his model is relatively
androcentric (22-23), Feminist critics including Annis Pratt; Eve Kornfield and
Susan Jackson; Barbara White; and Elizabeth Abel, Elizabeth Langland, and
Marianne Hirsch point out that the pattern of development differs for the male and
female protagonist. Female protagonists are more likely to define maturity in terms
of inner growth and familial relations than they are in terms of achieving
independence from their parents (Abel, er al., 8-11). Regardless of the
472 Style: Volume 35, No. 3, Fall 2001The Harry Potter Novels as a Test Case for Adolescent Literature 473
protagonist's gender, however, critics of the Bildungsroman seek to understand
narrative structure in terms of character development
But scholars of literature written specifically for adolescents—to which I refer
as “young adult literature”—are more likely to focus on issues of audience and
need than on paradigmatic stages of character development. Such critics as Ben F.
Nelms, Sheila Schwartz, Kenneth Donelson and Alleen Pace Nilsen, Geraldine
DeLuca, Robert C. Small, Marilynn Olson, Michael Steig, Mare Aronson, and
Michael Cart tend to ask the implied questions “for whom is the novel written and
what is its purpose?” Peter Hollindale, for instance, singles out the epiphany as the
defining characteristic that provides adolescent novels with a cathartic function; he
firmly believes adolescents need the emotional outlet that books provide (116-32)
Maria Nikolajeva und Caroline Hunt also employ poststructural methodologies to
investigate how material culture infiltrates the genre to help define it. Most of these
critics still assume that depicting characters who grow is still an essential
component of the genre
From my vantage point, however, the crux of defining adolescent literature as
distinct from children’s literature resides in the issue of power. While in children’s
literature, growth is depicted as a function of what the character has learned about
self, growth in adolescent literature is inevitably depicted as a function of what the
adolescent has learned about how society curtails the individual’s power, The
adolescent cannot grow without experiencing gradations between power and
powerlessness. Consequently, power is even more fundamental to the genre than
growth is. During adolescence, adolescents must learn their place in the power
structure by experiencing each of three interrelated issues: They must learn to
negotiate the many institutions that shape them, they must also learn to balance
their power with their parents’ power and with the power of authority figures in
general, and, finally, they must learn what portion of power they wield because of
and despite such biological imperatives as sex and death. Adolescents are
empowered by institutions and their parents and by theirknowledge of their bodies,
but by offering up rules and holding repercussions over their heads that limit their
newfound freedoms, these things also restrict them. Foucault tells us itis in the very
nature of power to be both enabling and repressive because it is omnipresent
“power is everywhere; not hecause it embraces everything but because it comes
from every where” (History of Sexuality 93).
Institutional Repression
Harry Potter, the disempowered orphan we meet at the beginning of the Harry
Potter books, is a classic example of adolescent growth being constructed in terms
of power that comes from everywhere. When we first meet Harry, he is pitiful in a
comic sort of way. He lives under the stairs at his aunt and uncle’s house. They are
his guardians because his parents are dead. On Harry’s eleventh birthday, he
magically receives a letter that tells him he is a wizard eligible to attend Hogwarts474 Roberta Seelinger Trites
School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Receiving the riches that his parents have
deposited at the wizards’ bank is only one part of the patrimony that subsequently
enables him. Suddenly the boy who has nothing has everything, including more
power than the family he is living with, those no-account, non-magical Muggles (as
those of us who are magic-deprived are called). Virtually all of the characters in the
book are obsessed with power, especially with increasing their magical powers. In
the initial story, these powers are defined as either “good” or “bad”: a character in
the first book reduces everything in Harry Potter's world to a reductive power
binary when he comments, “There is no good and evil, there is only power, and
those too weak to seek it” (Sorcerer’s Stone 291). But as the series progresses, so
does the depiction of the moral complexity of power, and some characters’ powers
are portrayed ambiguously. In the third and fourth novels, for example, one of the
teachers in Harry’s school, Severus Snape, is portrayed as having an ambivalent
relationship with the leader of evil in the wizarding world. The dark forees—
currently disempowered by Harry Potter and his parents—spend the entire series
trying to rebuild their power base, In each of the first four books Harry has enough
power to save the world from complete destruction. But his first and most
important empowerment comes from the sense of identity he has as. a member of his
school.
In the case of the Harry Potter books, school serves as the institutional setting
of socialization that teaches the protagonist both his abilities and his limitations. As.
Gregory Maguire points out in the New York Times, that Rowling has coupled the
hero's tale of apprenticeship with the school story accounts for much of the series’
he books all partake of the formula familiar to readers of School Stories:
addressed to children from the point of view of a child, the texts are middle-class
in their perspective, and they follow a boy through several years at school focusing
on two types of adventures, competition at sports and moral adventures (Clark 3-
4). If the purpose of the School Story is to indoctrinate school-aged children into
their place in the market economy (Clark 4-5), then the Harry Potter books
certainly succeed. While at Hogwarts, Harry learns the uses of money and the
problems with a social class system based on identity polities (including learning
to distinguish “pureblood” wizards, “mudblood wizards.” in whose veins flows.
some rather unfortunate Muggle blood, and, worst of all, the subalterns of the
wizard world, Muggles). He learns the caste system of the supernatural world
(ghosts are superior to poltergeists, for example, and most wizards despise giants);
and he learns that those with the most honor ultimately have the most power. After
all, Dumbledore, the school’s headmaster, is the world’s most powerful wizard
noble.
conscious as most schools are, Hogwarts displays a dynamic traced
by Yoshida Junko that is present at the heart of many school stories. Borrowing
from Jeremy Bentham’s model for the ideal prison, Foucault depicts a
“panopticon” as a circular f
on guarded by a central watchtower. Prisoners,The Harry Potter Novels as a Test Case for Adolescent Literature 475
housed on the circumference of the wheel theoretically behave themselves because
they never know when they are being watched (Foucault, Discipline 201). This
model is at work in The Chocolare War (1974), by Robert Cormier (Yoshida 111)
Certainly the students at Hogwarts—who are watched not only by their teachers
but also by prefects, by poltergeists, and even by the portraits on the wall—tive in
an atmosphere of constant surveillance designed to remind them of their
powerlessness. The greatest testimony to the power Harry Potter's lather and his
friends wield in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (1999) is their ability to
hide a portion of their magical powers from (heir omniscient headmaster. This
sense Of institutional watchtulness is present in most novels for adolescents,
reinforcing for the adolescent reader the impossibility of solipsism
Mikhail Bakhtin might note that the need for the panopticon exists in
conjunction with the carnivalesque atmosphere present in all schools: The carnival
exists as a steam-letting measure that allows the masses to fee! temporarily
empowered so that they will willingly retain their disempowered social status (195-
206). At Hogwarts, the trips to the local town and the occasional high-jinks
tolerated by the school faculty provide an antidote to their students’ sometimes
overwhelming power. The carnivalesque has, nevertheless, a constraming function
since its ullimate goal is to ensure the status quo. Thus, schools repress with
authoritarian measures, such as the panopticon, and they repress with allegedly
antiauthoritarian measures, such as carnivals—but in order to endure, the
institution must necessarily invoke some form of tolerable institutional repression.
Harry and his friends coexist with this system, recognizing it as especially
neve: ¢ has empowered students [ar more than
students in the average (Muggle) school. But the fact remains: the school teaches,
them, increasing their knowledge and therefore their power, while it
simultaneously represses those powers. The very function of such institution:
school, government, religion, identity politics, and family is to serve
“Ideological State Apparatuses” that interpellate subjects as socially constructed
beings (Althusser 155). School is the institution that indoctrinates Harry and his
friends into the social state in which they live. Hogwarts does so by simultaneously
liberating and limiting the adolescents who live there. In almost every adolescent
novel, some institution exists that simultaneously increases and decreases
adolescents’ sense of their own power
ry in an environment wherein ma
Parental Authority
If being empowered by institutional repression marks one necessary
ingredient of adolescent literature, the adolescent's ability to negotiate parental
authority marks another. According to Jacques Lacan, the child’s first emotional
crisis must be negotiated with the mother as the child moves from a stage of
Imaginary oneness with her to a recognition that he is separate from her (Ecrits 1-
7, 197-99; see also Natoy 1-16). Prom there follows entry into the Symibolic Order,476 Roberta Seelinger Trites
marked by conflict with the Name-of-the-Father (Lacan, crits 199). For
adolescent literature, this translates into a necessary form of the Oedipal struggle
that seems (at times maddeningly) unavoidable for Western authors of adolescent
literature. For critics of the Bildungsroman, such as Buckley and Tennyson, the
son’s ability to reject the father is the critical component of maturity. Feminist
scholars and those who have learned from Lacan have a slightly more nuanced
reading of the process that includes the adolescent's ability to (Imaginarily)
identify with and eventually separate from the mother.
In any event, Harry Potter displays both strands of crisis with parental
authority. For example, in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Harry learns that
his mother saved him from certain death through sheer dint of her love for him
When Harry was a baby, his family was attacked by the evil wizard Voldemort
(often called—in language that seems to parody Lacan—“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-
Named”). Harry’s mother has sacrificed her own life for her son's. As a result,
Voldemort can kill the boy neither in that attack nor in subsequent attacks later in
the series. Once Harry realizes this, he feels loyally identified with his mother, In
his memory, he exists within her powerful love, is One with her, and so cannot be
vanquished by this masculinized agent of World Death.' Harry struggles
throughout his life with this male agent of the Symbolic Order who would separate
him from the inviolability of his Imaginary existence with his mother, But, of
course, his sense of Imaginary Oneness with his mother can exist only because she
is dead, The relationship is therefore entirely imaginary in both the Lacanian and
the non-Lacanian senses of the term
Harry's father plays a prominent role in the third novel, Harry Potter and the
Prisoner of Azkaban, when Harry fears the Dementors, a type of incubus that sucks
people’s souls out of their bodies. From his father’s best friend—a thinly veiled
father-figure functioning in loco parentis—the boy learns to work a spell called a
“patronus” that evokes the spirit of the father to protect him from Dementors.
Harry’s ability to work the spell resides in his eventual perception that his father
lives within him; the boy has supplanted his father and become his father so that
now he can save himself from evil. Only because of this introjection is Harry fully
able to enter the Symbolic Order, an entry marked by his success in evoking the
necessary words of the spell that give him power over the (always and only male)
Dementors. It is as if Harry has created a spell out of words evoking his father in
Jogos parentis, if my violent yoking of heterogeneous languages can be forgiven.*
The physical absence of Harry's father necessitates the boy's creation of a
symbolic presence for his father to serve as a defense against death. When Harry
defends himself from death by creating his father out of words within his own
mind, he has experienced a misrecognition, a méconnaissance, that allows him to
(mis)perceive himself as an ““Ideal-I,’ a person whole and entire, capable and
independent” (McGillis 42). With this action, the boy proves that Oedipus is alive
and well at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry—and he proves theThe Harry Potter Novels as a Test Case for Adolescent Literature 477
inseparability of his growth from his perception of his power in relationship to his
parents’ power.
A necessary component of every Harry Potter book is his conflict with the
power wielded by at least one of his teachers. Throughout the series, Harry and his
friends conflict with Severus Snape, the potions teacher at Hogwarts. Harry also
has conflicts in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (1999) with a teacher
named Gilderoy Lockhart because Harry recognizes how duplicitous the man is. In
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, he questions the authority of the
journalist named Rita Skeeter. In Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (2000), Harry
conflicts with one of the Ministers of Magic. In all of these experiences, Harry is
testing his powers; but significantly, in all of them, he still manages to retain a
tenable position within Hogwarts as an institution. While he is able to confront
authority, he never completely overthrows it. He is never an agent of anarchy.
Ultimately, all of his actions serve to support the intentions of the headmaster,
Albus Dumbledore, so while Harry may appear rebellious, he is no iconoclast. In
fact, although many protagonists in young adult novels initially appear to be
iconoclasts, few still are by the end of a YA novel, Indeed, most have found
subversive ways to work within the system and still remain a part of it, drawing
their own authority from a system they once purported to resist
Corporeal Limitations
In the fourth book of Rowling’s series, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire,
Harry and his friends discover yet another dimension of power, that of their
burgeoning sexuality. The sexual tension that has been smoldering between
Harry’s two best friends, Ron and Hermione, begins to sizzle, and Harry himself is
enamored of Cho Chang. In the media hype that preceded the release of the fourth
book, much was made of the fact that Harry and his friends would discover sexual
attraction in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. That Rowling waited until the
midpoint of the series—the fourth book of a projected seven—reflecis the cultural
tendency to define sexuality as the purview of maturation. No one can be surprised
that adolescent novels discuss sexuality far more often than children’s novels do.
Experiencing sexuality is almost a de rigueur rite of passage for adolescents, After
all, part of the titillation of sexuality for many teenagers resides in being able to
rebel against authority figures by enjoying a forbidden sexuality
Far more interesting, however, is the connection between sex and death in
adolescent literature. Sex and death are linked in western discourse from at least as
far back as that Ur-story of human sexuality, Adam and Eve's fall froin the Garden
of Eden. Only once Eve discovers knowledge is she doomed to procreste and to die.
Thus, in western discourse, knowledge of sexual pleasure is inevitably linked with
power: sexuality and knowledge both empower and disempower Eve (Foucault,
History 53-73). In Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Cho Chang, Harry's
inamorata, also attracts the attention of Cedric Diggory, one of Hary’s rivals for478 Roberta Seelinger Trites
the Triwizard Cup in a tournament that involves three wizarding schools. Among
its many other uses in the narrative, the tournament is a mechanism for Cedric and
Harry to work out their male aggressiveness as they compete for the attention of the
same girl. By the tournament's end, both Cedric and Harry have descended to an
underworld of death as they fight Voldemort, who is reborn into a new body during
the enterprise. And Cedric, one of the characters who has felt sexually attracted to
Cho Chang, dies there.
Sexuality and death are often linked in adolescent literature to depict the
carnality of the human body: experiencing sexuality is as important to maturation
as understanding that we are mortals who will die, Robert Cormier links sex and
death in the first chapter of The Chocolate War when the protagonist fleetingly
remembers his dead mother and he compares the thought to “seeking ecstasy’s
memory an instant alter jacking off” (10). The protagonist of Aidan Chambers's
Breaktime (1978) tries to distinguish his own authority [rom his father’s authority
in a quest that leads him to better understand both sex and death; in one scene, the
narrator describes a couple having sex in acoffin (130-31), In yet another example,
the protagonist of Madeleine L’Engle’s A House Like a Lotus (1984) finally
understands her mentor’s predatory sexuality only once she understands that it is
linked to the woman’s fear of death. Hugh and Irene, the double protagonists of
Ursula K. Le Guin's The Beginning Place (1980), do battle with an incarnation of
the fear of death—a creature that smells of semen—and make love for the first time
after they have killed the creature. Given the frequency of this pattern in adolescent
literature, it seems likely that as the Harry Potter series continues, Harry’ s sexuality
will become even more clearly implicated in his understanding that death makes us
mortal, Accepting sexuality and mortality gives adolescents the ability to better
understand the power and limitations of their own bodies:
Moreover, according to Roland Barthes, accepting the death of the parent (the
ultimate authority figure) creates the ultimate grief, for from it the child learns of
his own mortality. Harry’s parents are dead; ergo, he himself is mortal. Perhaps the
greatest difference between children’s and adolescent literature resides in the two
genres’ implications about the limits of the human body. In children’s literature,
death represents children’s separation from their parents (Coats 116-20); in
adolescent literature, death functions as the adolescent’ s own awareness of herself
as Being-toward-death, the stage that Heidegger identifies as the individual’s
recognition that her or his existence
of existence—that is, in terms of the limits of her or his own body (304-07).
Barthes employs photography as a metaphor that explains the objectification
of the individual inherent in her death, Every photographic image of a person that
captures the individual as an object transfixed in time is an artifact that contains
“this catastrophe” of death (Barthes 96). The photographed object, like the corpse,
is powerless, devoid of agency—except in Harry Potter’s world, where
photographs wave at the person watching them. Wizard photographs have agency,
an be defined only in terms of her or his lackThe Harry Potter Novels as a Test Case for Adolescent Literature 479
so they serve as artifacts that defy death: Harry's parents wave to him from a
photograph album in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (304) and in Harry
Poiter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (212). This denial of death's power is
symptomatic of the series’ conflicted attitude toward death, After all, the first book
describes death as “the next great adventure” (297), effectively neutralizing
death's power and denying the primacy of Being-toward-death in an adolescent's
self-definition. This tendency to minimize death might seem odd unless we bear in
mind that this is the very nature of power, to both admit and deny, simultaneously
to empower and repress (Foucault, “Two Lectures” 88-92). Thus, marking the
series’ obsession with death, the photography metaphor at once affirins and denies
the permanence of death
Barthes notes that photography became established in the nineteenth century
(92) during an historical era in which death became removed from home life and
institutionalized by hospitals, morgues, and the funeral industry (Anés 2). During
the same era, the Bildungsroman—the novel that codifies the inexorable growth of
the individual as s/he progresses one stage of life closer to death—became
entrenched in the Western literary canon. And, simultaneously, Freud taught
Westerners that sexual repression drove all of their impulses. In other words, as the
culture became fascinated with climaxes—as the cullure became obsessed with
ending(s) and tcleology—photography emerged simultaneously with the
Bildungsroman, a genre about growing more sexual and nearer to death. This
metaphorical relationship between time passing and photography appears in a
number of late twentieth-century adolescent novels, including Block's Witch Baby
(1991), Chambers's Breaktime, Cross’s Pictures in the Dark (1996), Johnson's
Toning the Sweep (1993), Krisher’s Spite Fences (1994), Lowry's A Summer to Die
(1977), and Magorian’s Good Night, Mr. Tom (1981). The adolescents in these
novels contemplate various pictures in much the same way that Harry Potter pores
over photos of his parents. Once the protagonists gaze upon a recursive image
repeated with some sort of variation, however, they experience an epiphany
helps them to reconcile themselves to Being-toward-death (Trites. “Narrative
Resolution” 129-49), Harry, for example. has internalized the image of his father
gazing at his photograph so often. When he sees himself from alar at a critical
moment in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of A
ckaban, he assumes that what he has
seen is his father. Later, he realizes that he has actually gazed upon himself in a
magical moment in which he has existed in duplicate, The significant point,
however, is that because of his physical resemblance to his father, he can
acknowledge that his father exists within him. This epiphany allows him to
reconcile himself to his father’s death and presumably to his own Being-toward-
death. But the epiphany has been enacted only because Harry's father’s image has
appeared with variation: this time the image is Harry himself
Peter Brooks notes that all novels are teleologically-oriented. that is, all
narratives are created with the function of delaying their own climaxes—ie., their480 Roberta Seelinger Trites
own deaths (97-109). According to Brooks, most narratives rely on recursive
actions to delay their endings. We could say that they try to retain their power over
the reader by repeating events until resolution is achieved through repetition with
variation, as the recurring photographs of Harry Potter's parents demonstrate. In
another example out of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Hi
friend Ginny communicate with a boy named Tom Riddle through his enchanted
diary, an artifact of a boy presumed dead. Appearing numerous times, it provides
Harry with clues as to the whereabouts of the Chamber of Secrets. Not until the
diary appears repeated with variation, however, can the plot achieve resolution.
When the author of the diary reveals that Tom Riddle was his childhood name
before he became Lord Voldemort, Harry gains the knowledge that he needs to
defeat at least this manifestation of the evil wizard. He saves himself and others
from death, but, more important, he fulfills his parents’ destiny to defy the agent of
World Death. Harry—and the text itself—struggle against Being-toward-death
until the boy's acceptance of his symbolic power allows the resolution of the plot
to effect the book's demise
and his
The Limits of Adolescent Literature
Everything in adolescent literature is designed to teach adolescents their place
in the power structure. In order to mature, teenagers must understand that sexuality
is a powerful tool, that they are mortal and will therefore die, that they must both
break free from and accept the authority figures in their lives, and that they are
institutionally situated creatures, as all people are. If the use of institutions, if the
teenager’s rebellion against parental authority, if the adolescent protagonist and the
very narrative itself are Being-toward-death in a movement simultaneously
designed to admit and deny death’s power over the human body—then what is the
ideological message of the adolescent novel? With incredible consistency, the
answer is this: You shall know your power and that power shall set you free—that
is, until you begin to abrogate institutional power or parental power or sexual
power or the very power of death itself, in which case, the narrative will remind you
of your powerlessness as surely as Harry Potter must return at the end of every
school year to reside in relative impotence with his Muggle relatives
Ultimately, most adolescent novels carry some ideological message that
reinforces the need for the adolescent to conform to the status quo. If we believe
Hollindale’s assertion that the power of adolescent literature lies in its cathartic
power for the reader, then asking the reader to internalize these continued messages
about the need for adolescents’ power to be limited is tantamount to destroying the
adolescent reader’s potential power. Generally speaking, most adolescent novels
make this argument at an implicit ideological level that is reinforced by issues of
narrative structure. For example, adult characters are more likely to be the
intradiegetic narrators who express Ideological Truths than are adolescents. That
is, adult narrators who are interior to the text often have more authority thanThe Harry Potter Novels as a Test Case for Adolescent Literature 481
intradiegetic child narrators (see Genette 227-37). The source of ideological
authority in the Harry Potter novels, then, makes this series’ implicitly
conservative agenda clear. An adult, Dumbledore, utters the themes) of every
novel: “to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone,
will give us some protection forever" (Sorcerer's Stone 299), or “It is our choices,
Harry, that show what we surely are, far more than our abilities” (Chamber of
Secrets 333); or “You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us?” (Prisoner of
Azkaban 427), or “Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims
are identical and our hearts are open” (Goblet of Fire 723). These are the themes of
popular psychology and popular culture that many parents want their children to
internalize. Not once in these four novels does an adolescent proclaim a major
theme. That a textually-constructed adult (rather than a teenager) serves as the
source of all this parentally-approved wisdom reminds the reader that adults have
more knowledge than adolescents, so they must have more power, It follows
logically that the only way for adolescents to empower themselves is t0 quit being
so adolescent. Grow up. Get over yourselves.
Moreover, the villain in this series is a figure who refuses to honor socially
sanctioned limits on power. That is, Voldemort is something of @ teenager run
amok—a rebel who refuses to internalize the repression mandated by his
civilization, He wants to have power so he can use it to dominate others. In that
sense, he is the perfect foil for Dumbledore, who has power that he does not want
to use. It is Dumbledore’s self-control that marks his maturity, and Voldemort’s
refusal to capitulate to the power-in-check model proffered by the state or
institution that marks him as adolescent. And, of course, no good teenager would
wantto be like thar. [tis with such mi
all-too-often dedicated to te:
position is inherently flawed and will continue to be so until s/he becomes an adult,
In that sense, adolescent literature is probably the only genre in the world designed
to propel the reader out of her or his own subject position
Lest J appear to be singling out the Harry Potter books (which I actually quite
enjoy) as somehow unusual or as a Betrayal Of The Sacred Trust of Adolescent
Literature, remember that | offer them as a test case. The Harry Potter novels are
among scores of adolescent novels that inculcate in teenagers their power relative
to institutions, authority, and the limits of the human body. Novels by Francesca
Lia Block, Bruce Brooks, Aidan Chambers, Susan Cooper, Robert Cormier,
Gillian Cross, Chris Crutcher, Peter Dickinson, Virginia Hamilton, S. E. Hinton,
Mollie Hunter, M. E. Kerr, Norma Klein, Madeleine L"Engle, Michelle Magorian,
Margaret Mahy, Walter Dean Myers, William Sleator, Mildred Taylor, Sue
Townsend, Cynthia Voigt, Barbara Wersba, Lawrence Yep, and Paul Zindel all
display these characteristics. as do virtually every YA novel published in English
since Hinton’s The Outsiders broke new ground for the genre in 1967,
ayes lo readers that adolescent literature is
ching the intended reader that her or his subject482 Roberta Seelinger Trites
In fact, the very existence of the YA novel depends on a cultural ability to
question the power relations that construct the individual. YA novels require at
their core the type of postmodern questioning of power relations traced by such
theorists as Barthes and Foucault and Lacan.‘ Without the postmodern impetus to
question how a character like Harry Potter comes into being informed as a subject
by the social forces that act upon him, adolescent literature as we know it could not
exist. Without the postmodern imprimatur on iconoclasm, the institutionally
sanctioned rebellion of adolescent literature would not be possible. Without the
postmodern injunction against blind acceptance of divinely-ordered authority,
adolescent literature would be unable to depict teenagers temporarily rejecting
authority. Without the postmodern impulse to question the relationship between
the individual and institutional power, we would be left with the type of linear
Bildungsroman that was the darling of the Victorians.
But then, given that the genre’s underlying agenda may perhaps be to assure
adolescents that they need to get over themselves and just grow up, perhaps
adolescent literature is, as Jacqueline Rose would have us think of children’s
literature, always already impossible. Indeed, adolescent literature may be as intent
on thwarting adolescent power as Lord Voldemort is on obliterating Harry Potter.
Notes
‘For a cogent description of the parent-child relationship in children’s
literature, see Coats “Lacan with Runt Pigs.” Two of the standard articles on death
in children’s literature include Butler's “Death in Children’s Literature” and
Gibson and Zaidman’s “Death in Children’s Literature.”
? Significantly, Harry's father bequeaths to him an invisibility cloak that
allows him to move about the grounds without being seen, and, indirectly, the
Marauder’ s Map that shows the whereabouts of every teacher on the grounds at any
given time. But these two gifts function in the carnivalesque ways I describe below.
*One of my friends assures me that Voldemort represents the epitome of
capitalistic evil because his name said aloud sounds essentially like “Walmart.”
‘The more standard interpretation of the name is that it derives from French, “Flight
of Death.”
4For more on the concept in logos parentis, sce Trites, Disturbing the Universe
61-69.
5 Foucault distinguishes “sex” as a biological act from “sexuality,” which is
discursively constructed and ideologically confined (History 68-69).
° See Trites, Disturbing the Universe 16-19.
Works Cited
Abel, Elizabeth, Marianne Hirsch, and Elizabeth Langland. The Voyage In:
Fictions of Female Development. Hanover: UP of New England, 1983The Harry Potter Novels as a Test Case for Adolescent Literature 483,
Althusser, Louis. “Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses.” Lenin and
Philosophy and Other Essays. Trans. Ben Brewster. New York: Monthly
Review P, 1971. 127-86
Ariés, Philippe. Western Attitudes to Death from the Middle Ages to the Present.
Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1974
Aronson, Marc. “*The YA Novel is Dead’ and Other Fairly Stupid Tales.” School
Library Journal (Jan. 1995): 36-37.
Bakhtin, Mikhail. “Rabelais and His World.” The Bakhtin Reader. Ed. Pam Morris.
New York: Routledge, 1994, 195-206.
Barthes, Roland. Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography. Trans. Richard
Howard. New York: Hill and Wang, 1981
Brooks, Peter. Reading for the Plot: Design and Intention in Narrative. New York:
Knopf. 1984.
Buckley, Jerome. Season of Youth: The Bildungsroman from Dickens to Golding
Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1974.
Butler, Francelia. “Death in Children’s Literature.” Children’s Literature | (1972):
104-24. Rpt. in Reflections on Literature for Children. Ed, Francelia Butler
and Richard Rotert. Hamden, CT: Library Professional Publications, 1984.
72-90.
Cart, Michael. “Of Risk and Revelation: The Current State of Young Adult
Literature.” Journal of Youth Services in Libraries 8 (1995): 151-64.
Chambers, Aidan. Breaktime. New York: Harper and Row, 1978.
Clark, Beverly Lyon. Regendering the School Story: Sassy Sissies and Tattling
Tomboys. New York: Garland, 1996.
Coats, Karen. “Lacan with Runt Pigs.” Children's Literature 27 (1999): 105-28.
Cormier, Robert. The Chocolate War. New York: Dell, 1974.
DeLuca, Geraldine. “Taking True Risks: Controversial Issues in New Young Adult
Novels.” The Lion and the Unicorn 3 (1979): 125-48.
Donelson, Kenneth L., and Alleen Pace Nilsen. Literature for Today's Young
‘Adults. 5** ed. New York: Longman, 1997.
Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. Trans. Alan
Sheridan. New York: Vintage, 1979.
___. The History of Sexuality: An Introduction, Volume I. Trans, Robert Hurley.
1978. New York: Vintage, 1990
___- “Two Lectures.” Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings,
1972-1977. Ed. Colin Gordon. New York: Pantheon, 1980.484 Roberta Selinger Trites
Genette, Gérard. Narrative Discourse: An Essay in Method, Trans. Jane E. Lewin.
Ithaca: Cornell UP, 1980.
Gibson, Lois Rauch, and Laura M. Zaidman. “Death in Children’s Literature:
Taboo or Not Taboo?” Children's Literature Association Quarterly 16
(1991): 232-34
Heidegger, Martin. Being and Time. 1927. Trans. John Macquarrie and Edward
Robinson. New York: Harper and Row, 1962.
Hollindale, Peter. Signs of Childness in Children’s Books. Stroud: Thimble Press,
1997,
Howe, Susanne. Wilhelm Meister and His English Kinsmen: Apprentices to Life
1930. New York: AMS Press, 1966
Hunt, Caroline. “Young Adult Literature Evades the Theorists.” Children’s
Literature Association Quarterly 21 (1996): 4-11
Kornfield, Eve, and Susan Jackson. “The Female Bildungsroman in Nineteenth-
Century America: Parameters of a Vision.” Journal of American Culture 10.4
(1987): 69-75.
Lacan, Jacques. Ecrits: A Selection. Trans. Alan Sheridan, New York: Norton,
1977.
__. The Four Fundamental Concepts of Psycho-Analysis. Trans. Alan Sheridan.
Ed. Jacques-Alain Miller. New York: Norton, 1978.
Magorian, Michelle. Good Night, Mr. Tom. New York: Harper & Row, 1981
Maguire, Gregory. “Lord of the Golden Snitch.” New York Times Book Review, 5
Sept. 1999,
McGillis, Roderick. “Another Kick at La/ean: ‘I Am a Picture.’” Children’s
Literature Association Quarterly 20 (1995): 42-46.
Natov, Roni. “Mothers and Daughters: Jamaica Kincaid’s Pre-Oedipal Narrative.”
Children’s Literature 18 (1990): 1-16.
Nelms, Ben F. “From Little Women to Forever.” English Journal (April 1992): 9,
in]
Nikolajeva, Maria. Children's Literature Comes of Age: Toward a New Aesthetic
New York: Garland, 1996
Pratt, Annis. Archetypal Patterns in Women’s Fiction. Bloomington: Indiana UP,
1981
Rose, Jacqueline. The Case of Peter Pan, or The Impossibility of Children’s
Fiction, London: Macmillan, 1984.The Harry Potter Novels as a Test Case for Adolescent Literature 485
Rowling, J. K. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. New York: Scholastic,
1999.
__. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. New York: Scholastic, 2000.
___. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. New York: Scholastic, 1999.
___. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. New York: Scholastic, 1997.
Schwartz, Sheila. Teaching Adolescent Literature: A Humanistic Approach
Rochelle Park, NJ: Hayden, 1979
Small, Robert C., Jr. “The Literary Value of the Young Adult Novel.” Journal of
Youth Services in Libraries 6 (1992): 277-85.
Steig, Michael. “Never Going Home: Reflections on Reading, Adulthood, and the
Possibility of Children’s Literature.” Children's Literature Association
Quarterly 18 (1993): 36-39
Tennyson, G. B. “The Bildungsroman in Nineteenth-Century English Literature.”
Medieval Epic to the “Epic Theater” of Brecht. Ed. Rosario P. Armato and
John M. Spalek. Los Angeles: U of Southern California P, 1968. 135-46.
Trites, Roberta Selinger. Disturbing the Universe: Power and Repression in
Adolescent Literature. lowa City: U of lowa P, 2000.
___. “Narrative Resolution: Photography in Adolescent Literature.” Children’s
Literature 27 (1999); 129-49.
White, Barbara A. Growing Up Female: Adolescent Girlhood in American Fiction.
Westport, CT: Greenwood, 1985.
Yoshida, Junko. “The Quest for Masculinity in The Chocolate War: Changing
Conceptions of Masculinity in the 1970s.” Children’s Literature 26 (1998):
105-22.