So at the beginning of this month, I got my very own copy of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. I read it and I thought it was…
…Wait, I should give you some background first.
My parents started reading the series to me sometime in late 2001. I remember my mom doing the voices for the characters and the intensity with which the novels grabbed my imagination. I remember waiting for midnight on the day of the book launches, barely being able to wait for my own copy (though we often ordered them off the internet, I guess it was the idea that the book had entered the world that excited me).
I remember when my mom and I finished the series. We were sitting in our hotel room after spending the day at my swim meet. I remember both of us just sitting there on the bed lost for words. It felt so weird that something we had loved and enjoyed for so many years was over.
I loved the movies as well, but not quite as much. As my birthday is around Thanksgiving, I had a few birthday parties where we went to the theaters to see the films. I’ve also gone to the midnight releases of the last 4 films.
Now, I’m not telling you all of this to show off my Harry Potter nerdiness. I’m telling you so that you can understand the level of my excitement for anything Harry Potter, including this new book.
When I first learned about the book, I was excited. It was another story in the Harry Potter universe. Another chance to explore that world that we all left behind so long ago. I guess, in a way, it was a way to reconnect with my childhood.
Anyway, when I learned about the release date I knew that I was going to get the book. My stomach was fluttering with excitement when I walked into the local Barnes and Noble. I picked up my copy and carried it gingerly to the front desk. I paid and literally hugged the book all the way out of the store.
I waited to read it and I’ll tell you why. I had another book going at that moment and I didn’t want any other book related distractions around when I finally cracked open that cover. I guess part of me didn’t want the universe to truly end. I remember how weird it felt when book 7 ended.
A few nights later, I was laying in bed and deiced that that was the night. I cracked open the cover and began to read. I made it through about half the book before my dad (I’m living at home currently) mentioned that it might be a good idea if I slowed down, spread the book out so that I could savor it. Reluctantly, I agreed with him.
Though, it didn’t last long. I finished the book a few days later.
Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell you what happens as I’m sure there are those of you out there who haven’t read the book and would like to.
I really liked the book. It wasn’t the same as the original books, but it was still very good. It felt like part of the universe. I’m so glad that this book was written. It felt a little like a finale to the series.
I recommend that all of you who have loved the reading Harry Potter. If nothing else as a way to finish up the story line.
After nine years, it feels as if a huge part of my childhood has come to a happy, pleasent close.