Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Postcolonialism at the Quidditch World Cup

Continuing to idly read Harry Potter instead of devoting the hours that I need to devote to packing for our upcoming move, I have reached Book 4, The Goblet of Fire.  And though I remember it as one of the more well-balanced and symmetrical in terms of plot, with all of the threads coming together neatly, it's taking a while to get moving.  Last night (well, longer ago now that I'm finally finishing this post), I read about the happenings at the Quidditch World Cup,  and frankly, Quidditch doesn't interest me all that much.  But the scene as as a whole, which might more accurately be two or three separate scenes, deserves some scrutiny for how it develops what becomes one of the central themes in the series--namely, race and race relations.  And in particular, in this first meeting of wizards from different countries, Rowling's choice of bringing the Irish to the forefront in the Quidditch match, while also staging an attack on "Muggles," invites comparison of the wizards' treatment of non-magic humans and British colonialism in Ireland.  Adding another layer to the race relations is the treatment of the second-ever house elf.  The difference between non-magic human and house-elf on the race-relations spectrum seems to be that while most wizards agree--and express openly--that house elves are inferior, there is some room for debate about Muggles.

Some of the amusing clashes of culture are the fights between the Bulgarian mascots--the veela--and the Irish mascots (leprechauns, of course--and I have a joke for you:  An Irishman walks out of a pub.)  Veela (or Vila, or Wila) are Slavic nymphs or fairy-like creatures--or so says (*sigh*) Wikipedia.  However, these Slavic creatures do not carry the same cultural currency--at least in America--or stereotype as the leprechaun.  Another amusing moment is when the Bulgarian PM reveals that he has been pretending not to understand English because he was amused by Ludo Bagman's attempts to communicate.  But there is a more serious sub-text that the presence of the Irish and all of the trappings of Irish culture highlights.

I'm thinking, here, of a little book called Inventing Ireland by Declan Kiberd.  It's probably the most readable work of postcolonial criticism I've ever read.  One of the central ideas is that British colonialism looked different in Ireland for two reasons: because of the proximity of Ireland and England (as compared to the other colonies) and because the Irish and the English just weren't that different, especially in appearance.  And so because the Irish were "closer to home"--literally and metaphorically--there was more pressure to prove that England had control, and there were more pains taken to demonstrate the differences between the English and the Irish, and more necessaity to demonize the Irish and portray them as slovenly and barbaric.  Not that the English didn't do this in/with the other colonies.  But because of this closeness, suppression of the Irish could appear more brutal than in the other colonies (some woul debate whether it was actually more brutal, I'm certain)--and often was extremely brutal--while it took a bit more propoganda and some mental gymnastics to differentiate the Irish in such a way that British superiority was highlighted.  Religion obviously played a huge part--demonize Catholicism and you demonize the Irish.  Done.

I give this overview of Kiberd because in the Quidditch World Cup, the Irish are the champions, and they have green and shamrocks and leprechauns (though not Catholicism), and they are celebrated--and even celebrated as representing the British Isles, since England's Quidditch team didn't do so well.  So no colonialist or racial tensions there (except the fighting mascots, which is a sports rivalry thing).  And yet, race is all over this scene.

After the tournament, some former Death Eaters (the followers of Voldemort) have a bit of fun with a Muggle family.  Now, I have problems with the term "Muggle."  I recognize the necessity of having a term to distinguish between the magic- and non-magic humans.  To call non-magic folk "humans" would be to imply that wizards were not human.  I think I would be okay with that, but I understand why the author wouldn't want to make that large of a divide--all people need to be people in the books, or the race divide becomes more problematic, and you might have some siding with the dark wizards who think that humans--who are another species now--are inferior.  The connection has to be closer--like the (white) Irish and the (white) English, who look more or less the same, but are somehow different (and is that difference magic?  is magic like religion?).

The problem with "Muggle" is that when it is used, it is used to Other.  Even when it is used by well-meaning wizards, it never quite registers as neutral.  The most prominent Muggles are, after all, the Dursleys, who represent the worst type of non-magic folk (as Professor McGonnogal says at the beginning of the first Harry Potter film).  So "Muggle" is first associated with them, and never quite shakes that association.  Hermione's parents are rarely mentioned, and are sort of pitiful and meek--so no help comes from calling them Muggles.  It still remains negative.  And any time the distinction between two sets of people is represented in a label, it is ugly.  So really, there's no hope for the term.  It never feels neutral.  Even Mr. Weasley, who loves Muggles, draws attention to the trivial or idiosynchratic in his struggle to understand them--the Other.  They-who-can-not-be-understood.

I have a theory that even Rowling found the "Muggle" moniker problematic after a while.  After a relatively short while.  Because she had to come up with something that was actually worse than Muggle.  Something that not only marked the distincton, but did so in a decidedly negative fashion.  The wizarding equivalent of a racial slur:  Mudblood.  Which means a wizard born of Muggles.  Which doesn't really make sense because as they were Muggles, their blood couldn't be muddied--they were already something different.  Or so we're supposed to think.  Mudblood does two things for me.  It emphasizes Malfoy's class-consciousness.  This is about being nobility--the wizard bluebloods.  Pure Bloods.  And maybe if I were British, it would register differently, but I can't even see why Hermione was so stressed out about it in The Chamber of Secrets, when the term was introduced, given that she was raised in a non-wizarding context, just like Harry.  I mean, it was clear that Malfoy was trying to be insulting, but sticks and stones, luv. [Actually, Hermione's point was that, being raised in a different context, the label didn't insult her. The movie said otherwise.] The other thing that "Mudblood" does for me is emphasizes the negativity of "Muggle"--both words, after all, start with the very same phonetic sounds.  Both are two-syllable words.  Both have the emphasis on the first syllable.  Barring the difference in the voiced velar plosive 'g' which registers in the throat with a gentle pause, and the 'd' (dental) and 'b' (labial) combination, which cause a dramatic full stop in the center of the (compund) word, the words do sound similar.  And while Mudbloods should actually be better than Muggles, they are worse--primarily because they collapse the distinction between the wizard and the Muggle, calling into question the superiority of the wizard.  So Mudbloods are reviled because by being magic, they suggest that Muggles are not so different--something that the labels belie.

There are, of course, other racial struggles.  There are the house elves, the goblins, the giants--or, in Hagrid's case, the half-giants.  All of these racial dynamics emerge in Goblet of Fire in a more developed way than in any of the previous books.  And it becomes clear that while Ron is very much immersed in these prejudices, Harry and Hermione are not.  Their ignorance permits them to behave as if the other magical races are their equals.  However, the other racial struggles are different.  On the one hand, there is obvious disenfranchisement.  That the house elves are slaves seems an ambiguous issue--because they like it. But neither they nor goblins can have wands.  On the other hand, goblins and house elves and giants are, well monsters.  They look different. They have different phisiology in addition to history and culture.  They are more obviously Other.  Muggles, on the other hand, are, well--us.  The reader.  But since most readers identify with magical characters, we as readers are put in a position of Othering ourselves.  And that's not at all a comfortable position, when you think about it.  And it is not an isolated move in fantasy.  But why?  What is the inevitable effect?  Because I can't say that I think the fans notice the difference, even when a family of Muggles, including small children, is tortured and humiliated.  It remains--distant.  Because Muggles are "not me."  They are Other.

And that's where I come back to the Irish, I guess--the Other that is like me; the Other that is me.  So who is the reader? The colonizer or the colonized?

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