If you know me well, you know I read compulsively. If you do not know me well, you will learn that I read compulsively. My latest journies taken were of the Harry Potter sort.
The last Potter book I read was back in 2004. I started to read, and then proceeded to opt out halfway through Flight Of The Phoenix (#5) because I was bored. Yes, bored. So I put the book down and didn't look back until 2008. Four years later.
I felt I should reread the first half and finish the book since I do want to see the film now that it is out on DVD; Yes, even though all the HP films have disappointed me in varying degrees. (And oh man, I sound so pretentious!) So I used one of the lucky gift cards I received for Christmas and purchased another copy of HP 5 seeing as how I lost my last one in one of the many geographic moves I've made over the past four years. And I plowed through it.
HP 5 was a practice of patience for me. I wasn't entirely enthused about the book, but I figured it had to be good or maybe something reeeeeally interesting would come along seeing as how the book is over 800 pages long, but sadly, no. At least not to me. It was all stick and no carrot for me. Read: contrived.
At any rate, I had to forge ahead with HP 6 seeing as how I already had that book in my personal stockpile - thanks to my wonderful mom! So I picked it up and read it in a few hours, and was left feeling similarly as I had upon finishing HP 5. I felt a little empty, papery, and let down.
Maybe it is just me, but I feel like JK Rowling lost something somewhere between HP 4 and HP 5. Like she lost her inspiration, her vigor for the extraordinary. The pages just didn't glitter to me. I am not altogether sure yet, as I am still fleshing out how I feel about the books.
As a Harry Potter fan, I am glad I finally read and finished books 5 and 6 even if I am a bit letdown. I will read HP 7 soon, and maybe that will restore my Harry Potter adoration, maybe not.
Am I heretical for blaspheming Rowling's books?