Mine was merely a passing remark: I simply found it a touch unrealistic that Harry should emerge from his life at the Dursleys with so few signs of damage.

And for the sort of journey which JKR is writing about, it is just essential that we understand that the Hero comes from an unhappy and abusive home: he has to start from a low point, and work his way up the mountain, as it were.

I agree with you lirene, that the 'loss' of his parents actually incapacitated Neville far more than Harry in many ways.

Harry grew up only knowing that his parents 'had been killed', and even though the Dursleys didn't tell him the truth about how they had been killed, he at least grew up without the physical presence of his parents. And that helped make him strong and self-reliant: he had to cope, and he did. I think that Harry, even holding the Resureection Stone, realised that he couldn't bring his parents back, because that would also require him to bring back other people - Sirius and Remus in particular. And then, when would it end - how many others would he want or need to bring back?

The situation was much worse for Neville, because his parents didn't 'die'. They were there, in that terrible half-minded state, and Neville grew up having to see them like that. In his own way, Neville coped with this, as we saw so beautifully with that gum-wrapper scene in OotP. But I think the worst aspect for Neville's experience was because Grandmother Augusta wasn't able to move on. Because Frank and Alice were still physically alive, she had never been able to fully deal with her grief and anger at their 'deaths', and then let go, allowing them truly to rest in peace. As a result of this, she was unable to see Neville as a person in his own right - Frank and Alice were always 'there', as presences in her life and Neville's. So in her own grief, she constantly held up Frank as an ideal which Neville was supposed to match. And Neville couldn't do this, at least when he was young - sadly, he grew up with a sense that he wasn't good enough, and that he would never be able to match his father. As we saw, he did grow up and far exceeded Frank, IMHO: it's just a tragedy that he had to spend 15 years of his life being compared to an impossible ideal.

What would we learn from looking at Neville and his experience of 'death'? I think that the lesson we see is not so much how to deal with Death, but how important it is for us to see people as individuals, and not set them up as "oh, he's just like his father / mother", etc. The lesson from Augusta and Neville is how important it is to allow people to be themselves: everyone has his/her own talents, and just because they have obtained half their genes from each parent, doesn't mean that they are exactly like that parent. Have expectations of your children by all means - but the expectations should be that they live up to their own potential, and not someone else's. They will often surprise you!

Alkari

So the way death is dealt with in HP is very illuminating to my daughter and in some sence, liberating, because it gives her the possibility to yet again adress the death/loss-subject with me as well as with friends her own age, who in some cases have had losses themselves, but not having been able to adress the issue before.

The way death is approached by Harry is so heroic - but only in a way that is true to his character - and actually I have heard my daughter and other children seeing some hope and seeing the love his sacrifice represents. So it was not frightening to them at all. I don't think that has to do with maturity, but all to do with the way the adults around children deal with the issues.

But I also cannot see any way to compare Harrys and Nevilles situation - that is so unfair to both characters! Which type of tape measurer can be used here? And yet Harry is wondering himself, whether Neville is not in a worse spot because of the way, their surroundings are treating their losses. JKR - I think - makes us wonder about that unfairness - or?

Mine was merely a passing remark: I simply found it a touch unrealistic that Harry should emerge from his life at the Dursleys with so few signs of damage. But as I said, that is where Fantasy and Storytelling has to take over from Reality, because without that essential disconnect, we wouldn't have a story at all. And for the sort of journey which JKR is writing about, it is just essential that we understand that the Hero comes from an unhappy and abusive home: he has to start from a low point, and work his way up the mountain, as it were.

Alkari.

However, Maime does point out that Death is one factor used by JKR to highlight Harry's isolation from his blood-family. Right from PS/SS we find that the Dursleys have lied to Harry about the deaths of his parents, such a key event in the whole storyline; Harry in turn doesn't mention his own battles with death, as with Quirrelmort and the basilisk; he doesn't mention Cedric or the horrors of that graveyard scene; he certainly doesn't talk about Sirius's death; and of course, he doesn't mention Dumbledore. The physical 'home' that Harry must return to each summer is not an emotional home where he can recover from his experiences, assisted by his family. And because of his experiences with the Dursleys, he doesn't - possibly can't - talk about his feelings after the deaths of Sirius and Dumbledore.


Alkari

Another angle (besides my earlier input around suffering) I became occupied with by reading HP is this:

So often in every-day-language are people (and I) saying: I could kill ... - But could we?

As seen described, Malfoy is hesitating in the Astronomy tower (HBP), because there is a big difference between thinking/talking about taking another life and then doing it.

JKR made me reflect, because I have actually thought about having to take a life and how I would react.
Mostly it's when I have been in the situation of considering hard facts, while having to cope with my past and how it is affecting my present life. Sometimes the hate towards another human can evoke the feeling of need to act, but could I? - should I? Is hate enough?

How come that for some people (cultures), the idea of superiority is actually enough to make them convinced they have a right to commit murder? The thought of killing muggles for fun is not far fetched, as history as shown us. How were they able to be THAT superior?

At least it was thought-provoking for me.

Any
18 guide to the Harry Potter books should have a lengthy entry on
19 death. It is probably the major theme of the whole seven book
20 series, and it appears in so many different ways.
21 You can discuss the attitude of the leading characters
22 to death, which is enormously revealing about their psychology.
23 You can talk about the fantastic objects that I created that
24 either attempt to overcome death or are dangerous and may cause
25 fatalities.

I really like what Rowling says above; that death is probably the major theme of the HP books (bold mine). Do you agree with Rowling in this regard?

Compare with Tom Riddle, who was abandoned immediately by his mother's choice of death, and who received what I surmise was at best a paucity of nurturing in that first year and thereafter. It is where sociopathic and psychopathic potentialities are seeded, if they are not curtailed by supportive and nurturing intervention in later childhood...but even then are not always successful in staving off disorders of the personality, the personality never having formed cohesively in infancy because of the helpless infant's confusion and fear at the beginning of life.

So often in every-day-language are people (and I) saying: I could kill ... - But could we?

How come that for some people (cultures), the idea of superiority is actually enough to make them convinced they have a right to commit murder? The thought of killing muggles for fun is not far fetched, as history as shown us. How were they able to be THAT superior?