The most anticipated book of this decade is not a book. In fact, it’s a play.
On July 31st, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child was released. Fans everywhere flocked to bookstores, clinging to the book for dear life. It had been almost ten years since the last Harry Potter book; we were ready.
Reviews of the play gave it high praise, the early screenings showed incredible promise. After all, it was J.K. Rowling. She could do no wrong. I’ll admit, I was more excited than I even think I understood for this book. An avid reader, I have always loved the world Rowling created, the way her words wove a magic more powerful than that found in her books. So when the book showed up on my doorstep the next day after having preordered it—no post on Sunday, of course—I definitely shed a few tears.
I couldn’t wait to get started. After all this time? I’ve been ready, always. I tore through the first act without stopping, the script format making it a quick read. I loved it, just like I knew I would. But something was missing. Just that little spark that made the original series so perfect, it wasn’t in this play for some reason. I pondered the thought, but only for a minute, because I had to find out what happened next.
After finishing, I was conflicted. On one hand, I loved it. It was more Potter, it was everything I needed in my life. But on the other hand, it just didn’t make sense.
After the release of the script, many fans chimed in. Some were under the impression that they had bought a full length novel and were angry because it was only a script. Others couldn’t see it, the script was meant for a stage, but obviously we didn’t have the ability to view the play. Another group refused to accept the story as part of the Harry Potter canon, seeing as though it was her idea, J.K. Rowling didn’t technically write the script. Whatever it was, many fans were not content with what they got.
But hadn’t this been what we had been begging for, year after year? “More Harry,” we cried. “This can’t be the end!” We got what we asked for, whether we liked it or not.
Me? I found it to be an enjoyable read. Though the plot seemed almost so far-fetched it could have been a fanfiction, I devoured it with little hesitation, along with millions of other people. It seems almost sparse without the prose we’re used to, the plot lacking the details Rowling is famous for. Still, it can’t be blamed; the production was intended for a stage more so than the lonely hands of a reader.
Whether we loved it or hated it, Potterheads everywhere have been given one more book, a luxury most fans don’t get Whether you enjoy it is up to you. As for myself, I’ll be ignoring those plot holes as well as I can.