[cw: JK Rowling]

I mean, here's the thing about Harry Potter, re: quality.

TERFs like to pretend people are only just now "turning on the series" *because* of JK Rowling,

"rewriting history,"

"pretending" the books were *always* bad, "making up" reasons not to fucking like them.

But here's the thing.

I grew up in Harry Potter fandom spaces.

It was never my "biggest" fandom,

and they weren't the "main" places I spent my time online,

but the fact is, I did spend hours a week for God knows how many years on Harry Potter fan forums.

I know what I'm talking about.

And I'm here to say, no one's saying anything now that people weren't also saying in, like, 2004.

We were *always* talking about the fact that "Cho Chang" is a fake, racist name

basically one step away from being a fucking slur.

We were *always* talking about how much the books fucking *hate* fat people,

and how fucking weird and shitty it is

that we have a whole fucking species that just *likes* being enslaved.

And how the magic is fucking boring and lifeless,

and *everyone* just spams the same five spells that do the same five fucking mindless, mechanical things

for the entire fucking series.

And how the Triwizard Tournament doesn't make any sense,

and doesn't even fucking matter, even though it eats up 99% of the book.

And how the house system is fucking incoherent,

and how the final battle is decided by a rote, fucking soulless technicality with *no* fucking setup.

And how shamelessly fucking banal the core fucking fantasy is.

How it's not enough for the poor, abused kid

to find this secret, magical world

where he's secretly actually belonged this entire time.

How he *also* has to be this whole, big, famous fucking messiah figure,

and also secretly rich,

even though his parents were barely out of fucking school when they died, and don't seem to have ever had jobs.

It must have come from his grandparents, I guess, but then where the fuck even *are* his grandparents?

What happened?

The books don't fucking care to say.

Oh, and he's also so ~naturally talented~,

the school fucking bends the rules

to let him play a sport

that's *clearly* fucking tailor-made

to make him the *only* fucking meaningful player on the entire fucking field.

Like, if you came onto a 2000s-era fan forum,

and you said the series was trite,

fucking derivative,

pulpy,

shameless fucking trash,

that wouldn't have really been a controversial opinion.

People might have taken issue with your tone,

depending on how you said it (like, literally calling it "trash" probably wouldn't have flown),

but people,

generally speaking,

were *not* just fully up her ass here.

Like, any fucking normal fandom

spends half its time fighting over which book/subplot/character/relationship is the shittiest.

If it doesn't, then it's just a cult,

and that's not really what Harry Potter was at the time.

People fetishize it as "my childhood!"

but it wasn't "my childhood!" when we were all still actually *in* our childhoods.

It was just a thing we liked,

and even most of the "good" parts of it kind of fucking sucked, and we kind of fucking knew that.

People talked about the fact that,

even for an *extremely* cartoon-y series,

Voldemort was an *absurdly* two-dimensional caricature with fucking *nothing* to say.

[cw: rape]

They talked about the fact that date-rape potions are fucking commonplace in this universe,

and the *good guys* fucking sell them.

They talked about the fact that "Albus Severus" was a dipshit name given for dipshit reasons.

"You were named after the bravest men I ever knew,

"the abuser and the Neo-Nazi who beat his students and got my fucking parents killed."

Even the fact that JK Rowing's writing *mechanically* fucking sucked.

Even fucking twelve-year-olds could tell.

We were literally coming up with "Harry Potter drinking games"

six, seven, eight, nine years

before we could actually fucking drink

because her writing was *famously* fucking hack-y and repetitive.

I mean,

basically fucking none of us were operating under the illusion of, "Oh, this is groundbreaking art."

At most, you could say they were fun.

But then, honestly, even that, not so much.

Like,

when you really drill down into it, why did we even fucking like them?

I mean, mostly because they were there.

Because you couldn't fucking avoid them.

Because your school library had fifty fucking copies,

or because they took up fucking *half* the kids' section of fucking Barnes and Noble,

Or if you're like me,

you got them as gifts from grown-ups who didn't give a shit about what you actually liked.

I didn't buy any of the first four.

I got them as gifts from shitty aunts and family friends

who only thought to get them because they had *already* become the default gift for kids.

It was fucking corporate.

Fucking money.

That was literally fucking 99% of it.

It's the modern fandom that's rewriting history,

participating in this never-ending

communal fucking jack-off session

over the empty fucking image,

this tattered fucking husk,

cultivated over the course of almost thirty fucking years by fucking billionaires,

fueled by years and years and years and years of shitty fucking nostalgia-baiting spin-offs,

and theme parks,

and "Harry Potter movie marathons" spammed seventeen times a year on ABC Family.

But to circle back around to the big-picture point at hand,

it's true that her work had *always* been criticized,

but at the end of the day,

knowing more about who JK Rowling is *should* make you want to reevaluate her work.

That's what fucking happens.

New information changes the way you feel about shit.

You find out the author was a genocidal sack of shit, and you think,

"Oh.

"Alright, then, piss on the books and let them rot."

Or, if you're a TERF, you find out the author was a genocidal sack of shit, and you think,

"Oh, fuck, yeah."