
As a nerd, Austinist anticipated the July 16 publication of "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" with a touch of anxiety. Everyone errs once in a while. Napoleon's luck went south when he rampaged north, and Casey struck out. Would J.K. Rowling's sixth book be as awesome as her first five?
We're happy to report that the answer is "pretty much."
More after the jump!
First, a primer for any Austinist readers who are fundamentalist Christians or snobs: the Harry Potter saga concerns the eponymous orphan, an unloved urchin who lives under his aunt and uncle's stairs. At the age of 11, he discovers that he is actually a wizard of some distinction, having survived an attack from Lord Voldemort, sort of the Kim Jong-Il of Magic-Land, that killed both of his parents and reduced Voldemort himself to smithereens. Harry enrolls at Hogwarts, England's premier institution for the study of magic, where he faces constant peril in the form of Potions homework and further attacks from a rejuvenated Voldemort and his legions of evil followers.
As the current installment opens, Harry is preparing to begin his sixth year at Hogwarts, still reeling from the events of his fifth. For one thing, a prophecy was revealed indicating that when it comes to Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter, one has got to go. In addition to the impending doom, Harry has some more pressing concerns: his rival, Draco Malfoy, has gone from pipsqueak to potential assassin; he has a crush on his best friend's little sister; his Potions textbook is giving him advice that may or may not be seriously evil, courtesy of the titular Half-Blood Prince; and the school's venerable headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, sends Harry on some painful trips down memory lane.
"Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" is a smashing success for several reasons. The first is that fans of the series so far, including Austinist, have drank the Kool-Aid, and Rowling has a monopoly on the franchise. That's not to call this "The Phantom Menace." Rowling's writing is sharp and satisfying, and in one striking scene, in which the young Voldemort calls on a fatuous old witch, she shows a flair for casual misogyny that rivals that of Patricia Highsmith.
However, the plot is frustrating--seven hundred pages later, you realize that this is mostly just groundwork for book seven. The first five books in the series have stand-alone plots, although only the fourth, "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire," can be properly described as plot-driven. (That plot concerns an international wizarding tournament and can be taken as evidence, along with "Ender's Game," "The Most Dangerous Game," and "The Lady or the Tiger?", that games are a very good way to organize a story.)
"Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince," in contrast, has more of a half-baked plot. There is plenty of action, and the questions that drive the action — who is Draco trying to kill? Who is the Half-Blood Prince? — are answered, but only in such a way as to raise more questions. The death of Draco's mark has fueled feverish speculation on the internerd — and never has it been appropriate to call the internet the internerd as it is in this context — but the best theory we've heard about the book's fire-and-rain finish came from two drunken Marines on the Guadalupe River last week, who took a break
from shouting "Accio beer!" (nerds) to explain to Austinist why Severus Snape can, after all, be trusted. Email us if you want to hear it.



lovely review. "internerd" is my new favorite word.