J. K. Rowling told us well in advance she was going to do it, and as millions of Potterites found out with the publication in 2005 of the penultimate book of the Harry Potter series, Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince, she bloody well did. She killed off a long-running and beloved character. But of all the long-running, beloved characters she could have killed off, few imagined she'd end up killing off Albus Dumbledore. Unthinkable. But there before us was the evidence in ruthless black and white, eyeing us unblinkingly from the page — stark, unambiguous, and irrevocable — and the wave of shock, dismay, and horror that ran through the millions-strong worldwide Potterite community was almost palpable, and curiously reminiscent of the world-wide wave of shock, dismay, and horror — and anger — over 100 years ago that greeted Conan Doyle's reckless killing off of Sherlock Holmes.
Immediately, the speculations began flying. Dumbledore only appeared to be murdered. He wasn't really dead. It only looked that way. Rowling, said the speculators, left us plenty of clues to tell us he wasn't really dead, and so we should expect him to turn up again in a surprise plot twist in the ultimate volume of the series (Year 7, title not yet announced, but expected late this year or early next) alive and well, and just as powerful, wise, and endearing as ever.
Not a chance. Rowling herself put the kibosh on that speculation this past August. From the stage of Radio City Music Hall where she was appearing along with authors John Irving and Stephen King for a charity benefit whimsically titled, "An Evening With Harry, Carrie, and Garp", wherein the three authors each gave readings from their own works, Rowling, in answer to a question put to her from the audience by a young Potterite on the matter of whether Dumbledore was really dead, said,
I feel terrible ... but you shouldn't expect Dumbledore to do a Gandalf [referring to the Lord Of The Rings character who underwent a sort of resurrection from the dead]. Let me just put it that way. I'm sorry.
That answer, however, was unacceptable to another, somewhat older, somewhat more incisive Potterite: celebrated author, Salman Rushdie. From the audience, standing with his young son at his side, he pressed Rowling on the point, to which Rowling replied,
I see that I need to be a little more explicit and say that Dumbledore is definitely dead. [...] I think I need — you need — all of you need to move through the five stages of grief.... I'm just helping you [here to] get past denial.
Well, that pretty much nails the coffin irrevocably shut, once forever. Rowling did the dastardly deed, and we're all going to have to get over it, and that's that.
Despite my shared feelings of shock, dismay, and horror at Dumbledore's murder with all the world's other Potterites, I quickly came to see and understand that what Rowling did was both courageous and necessary; that offing Dumbledore was the right thing to do in terms of the story's arc, and more to the point, in terms of Harry's need — in his growth from childhood and adolescence to young manhood in the Harry Potter saga — to, on his own, find and make his way through the daunting, daily, life-threatening trials that we already know await him in Year 7.
But anyone who imagines that Rowling has somehow left us in the lurch and bereft in the matter of Dumbledore is guilty of a breach of trust and faith in Rowling as an author of which she's in no way deserving. I, for one, trust her implicitly in that regard, and would even bet I know almost (but not quite) precisely just how she'll more than compensate us Dumbledore-wise in Year 7 for his death in Year 6; a compensation that will transform our dismay and grief at his loss to a celebration of....
Well, that's all I'm prepared to say at the moment. For the nonce, my lips are sealed on the matter. If, however, you imagine I'm bluffing, or merely being coy, I make you all the following offer: If anyone can suggest a method that most rational folks would agree can be trusted not to be manipulated by me or by others whereby I can make known my, um, "knowledge" in such a way that it will remain hidden from others' eyes until after the fact (i.e., until after publication of Year 7), I might reconsider my decision to keep my lips sealed on the matter.
On The Road To Prohibition
