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I've been doing this project where I've had to read a lot of kids' books from the past two decades--which is never a chore. I thought of one I've been reading during a few recent conversations in fandom--one was a post about fictional incompetence (f'locked so I won't link to it) that I totally agreed with--basically it was talking about having trouble liking characters who, if they weren't good people, weren't at least competent at whatever they were doing.
The other was recent conversations on HP4GU about disappointment with Harry's magical development in HBP, the way he didn't seem to really progress magically at all. I didn't feel that way myself because it just doesn't ever seem to me that JKR's created a magical system where Harry needs to progress that way--it seemed more important that he got insights into Slytherin, because Harry's magical abilities tend to be more about his character in extreme situations. He pulls it out when he needs to, or discovers he has a natural talent for something without it necessarily tying into his personality at all. Complex magic is just kind of vague, while Harry’s classes aren’t really so different now than they ever were. (Usually it’s more a case of the kids needing to be stronger than the magic being more complex.)
And it all just made me think about how I find learning such a turn-on.
As I said, I don't really think about Harry's schooling this way. When it comes down to it most magic is just point your wand and wish for it the right way. It's actually kind of hard to imagine where a lot of the adults in canon get their knowledge, actually. Harry's got one year left of school which he might not even use, and there's no other schooling after Hogwarts. Yet he still seems rather hopelessly behind most adult characters. Where do they learn it? If they're self-taught it's hard to imagine Harry or Ron or lots of other people progressing very far.
And that's not a problem--it's not the way the books approach magic. These are different kinds of school stories. But when I'm reading this book I'm reading now it really strikes me how much I love reading about learning. The book is called A Single Shard. It's about an orphan in 12th century Korea who becomes an apprentice to a master potter.
Everything about Tree-Ear's life is about learning. He begins as a beggar, but even there he learns about knowing the right garbage to pick, and he and his friend/guardian Crane-Man give a lot of thought to the ethics of their lifestyle. But he really wants to learn how to make pottery--he lives in a potter's village known for its unique clay works. He first becomes an apprentice when he accidentally breaks something belonging to the best potter in the village, starts off paying off his debt and then asks to stay on.
Tree-Ear can't wait to get a chance to actually make something, but Min, the Potter, starts him out chopping wood. Every day he has to chop wood and bring it to the kiln, for weeks and weeks. He learns about stacking the wood carefully to make his job easier and sees how the kiln works. Then Min sends him out to cut clay from the quarry, and it takes him time to learn to cut it easily. Then he has to strain the clay for impurities. Min demands the clay be strained 5 or 6 times, though Tree-Ear can't honestly tell the difference between 5 strains and 3. Until one day he's straining and feeling the clay as always, trying to feel what Min feels and...he does. He finds himself thinking on the fourth rinse, Not quite yet. One or two more times.
It's hard to describe how incredibly satisfying this whole process is to me. The moment where he feels the difference and you know that Min has taught him that aspect of his own craftsmanship, so he's one step closer to actually working with the clay. The way he's so intimately involved with every step of the process and the craft--cutting wood for the kiln, seeing the mistakes the firing process makes (Min always makes many copies of his work expecting many to be ruined in the kiln), cutting the clay from the quarry, straining it, watching Min work and noticing why he does one thing and not another. It’s not quite the same as just getting it, like trying something over and over and it finally works. It’s actually doing it over and over as the knowledge seeps into you.
Once Tree-Ear takes a bit of clay home and works to make a leaf just like the ones Min is using to decorate the vase. He slips that leaf in with the others and Min uses it. Tree-Ear is scared and proud about fooling Min, but I have a feeling Min knew perfectly well Tree-Ear made the leaf and was silently accepting it because it was good.
Today if you were going to take a pottery class you would have the experience Tree-Ear first wanted. You'd be sat down, given clay, and shown how to start working. And really, one can understand not wanting to have to chop wood and cut clay in order to learn the different skill of making pottery. But damn it's just so sexy this kind of thing, the thought of learning something so well, and then progressing to the next step only after you've really mastered the first. I suppose today the main things still learned this way are physical—ballet is still broken down into many barre exercises that seem totally minute.
I like characters who do that sort of thing no matter what they apply it to--another book I've read for this, which is also great, is A Girl Named Disaster. In that book we're told early on that the main character, Nhamo, likes to watch animals and insects in her world (Mozambique) to see the way they work. I think she refers to it as sort of learning things for no reason. But right away you think--she's a scientist! (And boy, she eventually winds up having to use everything she’s learned.)
I have a real love of everything being like that--especially writing. I call myself a hack as a sort of joke, but I love the idea of learning writing--or anything else--as a trade where you have to work to get the basic tools of it, and try different things, work in different styles, analyze the work of others, see how it works, learn the rules before you think of breaking them. I love it when fandom works that way, and you can see people trying new things and improving.
I guess that's also why--and this isn't meant as a veiled criticism of Harry Potter because I'm more thinking of other characters--I love it when characters are competent and work at it. If they were born with any sort of innate talent, they've honed it and studied and worked at it. That to me is more exciting than someone just having an amazing talent or being good at something.
Actually, that just reminded me of something I apparently said once when I was in I think junior high--it was something my mother apparently loved so she repeated it to people a lot. She was talking about somebody who was always so smart as a kid etc. I guess he tested really high on intelligence in kindergarten and everything. But he never really wanted to work in school. Apparently he would do the first math problem and question why he should do the rest since he just showed he could do it--why do 20 more of the same problem? So she was apparently talking about how by that point, when he was in high school, he didn’t work hard because he's smarter than other kids. And I piped up with, "Um, I think by now the kids who weren't brilliant in kindergarten but worked at it have caught up by now." Needless to say, I was always one of the non-brilliant (unfortunately I was also kinda lazy...). But still, imagine how depressing it would be if skills and talent and the arts came down to whether you came out of the womb impressing people with your prowess. There’s so much more to doing, well, anything than that.
The other was recent conversations on HP4GU about disappointment with Harry's magical development in HBP, the way he didn't seem to really progress magically at all. I didn't feel that way myself because it just doesn't ever seem to me that JKR's created a magical system where Harry needs to progress that way--it seemed more important that he got insights into Slytherin, because Harry's magical abilities tend to be more about his character in extreme situations. He pulls it out when he needs to, or discovers he has a natural talent for something without it necessarily tying into his personality at all. Complex magic is just kind of vague, while Harry’s classes aren’t really so different now than they ever were. (Usually it’s more a case of the kids needing to be stronger than the magic being more complex.)
And it all just made me think about how I find learning such a turn-on.
As I said, I don't really think about Harry's schooling this way. When it comes down to it most magic is just point your wand and wish for it the right way. It's actually kind of hard to imagine where a lot of the adults in canon get their knowledge, actually. Harry's got one year left of school which he might not even use, and there's no other schooling after Hogwarts. Yet he still seems rather hopelessly behind most adult characters. Where do they learn it? If they're self-taught it's hard to imagine Harry or Ron or lots of other people progressing very far.
And that's not a problem--it's not the way the books approach magic. These are different kinds of school stories. But when I'm reading this book I'm reading now it really strikes me how much I love reading about learning. The book is called A Single Shard. It's about an orphan in 12th century Korea who becomes an apprentice to a master potter.
Everything about Tree-Ear's life is about learning. He begins as a beggar, but even there he learns about knowing the right garbage to pick, and he and his friend/guardian Crane-Man give a lot of thought to the ethics of their lifestyle. But he really wants to learn how to make pottery--he lives in a potter's village known for its unique clay works. He first becomes an apprentice when he accidentally breaks something belonging to the best potter in the village, starts off paying off his debt and then asks to stay on.
Tree-Ear can't wait to get a chance to actually make something, but Min, the Potter, starts him out chopping wood. Every day he has to chop wood and bring it to the kiln, for weeks and weeks. He learns about stacking the wood carefully to make his job easier and sees how the kiln works. Then Min sends him out to cut clay from the quarry, and it takes him time to learn to cut it easily. Then he has to strain the clay for impurities. Min demands the clay be strained 5 or 6 times, though Tree-Ear can't honestly tell the difference between 5 strains and 3. Until one day he's straining and feeling the clay as always, trying to feel what Min feels and...he does. He finds himself thinking on the fourth rinse, Not quite yet. One or two more times.
It's hard to describe how incredibly satisfying this whole process is to me. The moment where he feels the difference and you know that Min has taught him that aspect of his own craftsmanship, so he's one step closer to actually working with the clay. The way he's so intimately involved with every step of the process and the craft--cutting wood for the kiln, seeing the mistakes the firing process makes (Min always makes many copies of his work expecting many to be ruined in the kiln), cutting the clay from the quarry, straining it, watching Min work and noticing why he does one thing and not another. It’s not quite the same as just getting it, like trying something over and over and it finally works. It’s actually doing it over and over as the knowledge seeps into you.
Once Tree-Ear takes a bit of clay home and works to make a leaf just like the ones Min is using to decorate the vase. He slips that leaf in with the others and Min uses it. Tree-Ear is scared and proud about fooling Min, but I have a feeling Min knew perfectly well Tree-Ear made the leaf and was silently accepting it because it was good.
Today if you were going to take a pottery class you would have the experience Tree-Ear first wanted. You'd be sat down, given clay, and shown how to start working. And really, one can understand not wanting to have to chop wood and cut clay in order to learn the different skill of making pottery. But damn it's just so sexy this kind of thing, the thought of learning something so well, and then progressing to the next step only after you've really mastered the first. I suppose today the main things still learned this way are physical—ballet is still broken down into many barre exercises that seem totally minute.
I like characters who do that sort of thing no matter what they apply it to--another book I've read for this, which is also great, is A Girl Named Disaster. In that book we're told early on that the main character, Nhamo, likes to watch animals and insects in her world (Mozambique) to see the way they work. I think she refers to it as sort of learning things for no reason. But right away you think--she's a scientist! (And boy, she eventually winds up having to use everything she’s learned.)
I have a real love of everything being like that--especially writing. I call myself a hack as a sort of joke, but I love the idea of learning writing--or anything else--as a trade where you have to work to get the basic tools of it, and try different things, work in different styles, analyze the work of others, see how it works, learn the rules before you think of breaking them. I love it when fandom works that way, and you can see people trying new things and improving.
I guess that's also why--and this isn't meant as a veiled criticism of Harry Potter because I'm more thinking of other characters--I love it when characters are competent and work at it. If they were born with any sort of innate talent, they've honed it and studied and worked at it. That to me is more exciting than someone just having an amazing talent or being good at something.
Actually, that just reminded me of something I apparently said once when I was in I think junior high--it was something my mother apparently loved so she repeated it to people a lot. She was talking about somebody who was always so smart as a kid etc. I guess he tested really high on intelligence in kindergarten and everything. But he never really wanted to work in school. Apparently he would do the first math problem and question why he should do the rest since he just showed he could do it--why do 20 more of the same problem? So she was apparently talking about how by that point, when he was in high school, he didn’t work hard because he's smarter than other kids. And I piped up with, "Um, I think by now the kids who weren't brilliant in kindergarten but worked at it have caught up by now." Needless to say, I was always one of the non-brilliant (unfortunately I was also kinda lazy...). But still, imagine how depressing it would be if skills and talent and the arts came down to whether you came out of the womb impressing people with your prowess. There’s so much more to doing, well, anything than that.