I’m revisiting the topic of the Deathly Hallows. I will fully admit that I was originally seriously disappointed by the big revelation of what they were – I thought that maybe J.K. had finally fallen into the trap of writing an interesting plot at the expense of finding something deeper in the story. In short, I thought that the Hallows were a cheap way of upping the excitement of the seventh book, a way of convincing readers that there was more to the story than camping on moors. I guess my primary problem was that the Hallows were not what made Harry “Master of Death” when he defeated Voldemort; in my mind, I was expecting him to, like, be wearing the cloak and battling Voldemort with the Elder Wand while the specters of all Harry’s lost loved ones rushed to his defense or some nonsense. It was so disappointing to me that there was never that epic culmination of the three parts of the Hallows.
But now I’m older and wiser. Or, at the very least, I have had much more time to mull over the Hallows, and after the past year’s events in my own life, I think I finally get it. It’s balance, and it’s imperfection. I’ll talk about the significance of J.K. telling an imperfect tale another time, but for now I will say that yes, I still feel that the climax of any other traditional fantasy novel would feature Harry uniting the Hallows and winning through that. So Harry Potter doesn’t follow the lines of traditional fantasy; no surprise there. But I realize now that the point of the Deathly Hallows – despite their title – was not to reveal a secret to conquering death but was, rather, a means of understanding how to live. Maybe those two things seem interchangeable, but they are not, and J.K. is very clear in expressing that sentiment throughout the series. Voldemort survived for decades, but did he ever live at all? We could argue for ages about the differences between living and existing, but that’s not the point of this post. If the Hallows were used to kill Voldemort, it would have completely discredited their message about living.
Here’s my primary discovery about the Hallows (and keep in mind that I feel like I keep realizing more and more about them every day): they show us how to live the type of life that would allow us to someday greet Death “as an old friend,” with few regrets. Doing so would require us to accept our faults and weaknesses, and refuse to let them bring us down; yet we also would not allow our talents and strengths to overtake us. Flaws make us human, and accepting this additionally makes us stronger in a way that someone who relies purely on his or her strengths to get through life (something that Voldemort never understood). Maybe this will make more sense if I break it down – or maybe what I’m trying to say will just continue to get more and more convoluted. If that’s the case, feel free to stop reading at any time.
I’m going to reserve analysis of the three “Lost Boys” of Hogwarts for another post, but I will at least announce who they are for the sake of this conversation: Harry, Snape, and Voldemort.
So first there is the Elder Wand. It was chosen by Antioch Peverell, the one who died for power. Personified, the Elder Wand would be Voldemort, and his character is mirrored by Antioch: the eldest of the Lost Boys (or the eldest brother), a combative man who sought to both embarrass and conquer Death. Antioch’s downfall was his thirst for power, as was Voldemort’s.
Then we have the Resurrection Stone. This reward from Death was requested by Cadmus Peverell, the one who sought a dead love. Snape quite clearly aligns with the tale of the Stone: the middle of the Lost Boys (or the middle brother), he was an arrogant man who was “driven mad with hopeless longing.” Cadmus was greedy and dragged back his lost love from Death, where she belonged. In the end, Cadmus’ obsession with this lost love drove him to commit suicide as a means of joining her. For all intents and purposes, Snape, too, gave his life out of a deep and obsessive love for Lily Potter that consumed his existence long before he met his physical death at the jaws of Nagini.
And, finally, there is the Invisibility Cloak. With it, Ignotus Peverell greeted death as an old friend. Not only is Harry a direct descendent of Ignotus, but his character and motivations parallels the story of the Cloak directly. The youngest of the Lost Boys (or the youngest brother), he was sought after by Death for many years – Harry had been marked for death since he was just one year old. When Harry walked into the Forbidden Forest, he had accepted that it was finally his time to die, and in doing so he met Death “as an old friend.” Ignotus, like Harry, was a humble man who did not aim to embarrass nor conquer Death.
And so we have the Deathly Hallows: the ultimate prescription for living the best life possible, sought by three very different men who each had their flaws and their strengths, both admirable and contemptible. To truly live would be to find the equilibrium between the three Hallows and what they represent, to understand the importance of temperance in all, and to accept an existence in the “gray area” of in-betweens and balance – something that I, for one, have yet to figure out how to accomplish.
Embrace and maximize all of the power that lies within you, but be humble about your successes. Had Antioch not bragged about his unbeatable Elder Wand, he would not have been murdered the very same night that he won it. Yet respect should be granted for refusing to accept defeat and seeking to rise above your opposition every time you are faced with it. There are some things worth fighting for – but not everything. It is okay to fail. In fact, strength is built moment by moment, setback by setback, so slowly and gradually that you often don’t even recognize it. Strength and power are that first breath of air that you take every time you claw your way out of the rubble of another letdown; it cannot be granted to you as a gift, nor seized as a prize, as was the Elder Wand.
Love deeply and endlessly, but do not sacrifice your own days and years over what you have lost. There is no shame in a broken heart, but only if you realize that that heart – however bent, bruised, and damaged – belongs to you and you alone, and that obsession will neither bring back that which you have lost, nor will it make your heart whole again. Wishing that you could alter the past does nothing but consumes your future. You will spend your living days as Cadmus did, in a sort of half-life. Dead while still breathing. As Dumbledore famously proclaimed to Harry, “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”
Learn humility and accept that death is inevitable, and that is should be neither feared nor embraced. Death is not an enemy lurking around every corner but is, rather, an equal who stands at the vanishing point of the horizon. Life is finite and should be wasted on neither the power nor the grief that took over Antioch and Cadmus, Voldemort and Snape. Epicurus was no wizard, but I think that Ignotus and Harry alike would have understood and agreed with his words: “Death is nothing to us, since when we are, death has not come, and when death has come, we are not.” Respect the power of death, but live while you are alive.
Understand that, and maybe we’ll all figure out how to become Master of Death.
