On Easter Sunday, I had my first meaningful contact with the Harry Potter franchise. My aunt had her two grandchildren for the week, so off to her house I went with my folks. After a buffet dinner, we settled down to ‘Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets’, which Auntie Joan had picked up in the supermarket for the evening’s viewing. I can’t say I was particularly looking forward to it- I’d studiously avoided it for years, having felt uncomfortable with the whole franchiseness of it. Not the books particularly, just the number of people making money on the back of it from Harry Potter sweets, Hagrid key rings and so on. I suppose it’s the idea of the films and merchandise swamping the books. I don’t have a problem with J K Rowling- she had the right idea at the right time and got herself a damn good agent- and if the books get boys reading, that’s unreservedly a good thing, but it concerns me that with all the films and video games, nobody needs to read the books if they don’t want to. It also concerns me that the pace of production of the films is catching up with the books, and that’s going to affect the quality of what Rowling writes- like Conan Doyle with Sherlock Holmes, she’s writing now to keep the whole thing going rather than from inspiration, and it’ll show.

So we sat down to watch the film. It turned out to have a very familiar feel to it- it’s the kind of children’s film which comes out every so often with a supporting cast of British character actors, so the adults can go "Bloody hell, it’s Robert Hardy!" and so on and so forth. In fact, the setting is beautifully conceived- a solid combination of the slightly old hat school setting- nobody actually calls their children Harry, Ron or Hermione, do they?- and the magical and legendary. Nothing C S Lewis wasn’t doing fifty years ago, but done in a more direct style so the "real world" scenes don’t jar. It’s also quite satisfying to realise that I’ve been to most of the locations over the years- Kings Cross, of course, but also Glenfinnan Viaduct (by steam train, but not the Hogwarts Express- the loco they use is a Great Western Hall Class, quite out of place on the Fort William-Mallaig line) and Alnwick Castle. This is the residence of the Duke of Northumberland, from whom the National Gallery last year purchased Raphael’s Madonna of the Pinks because he was so strapped for cash it would otherwise be sold abroad- even though Alnwick Castle sells Harry Potter broomsticks for around £3 a throw.

It was all quite fun in the end- the books have gone from "never going to read" to "might read someday"; in fact I was nearly tempted by the hardback box set in Waterstones in Leeds for £68, and even more nearly tempted to find it on Amazon for £47-odd. But then I reminded myself of the three Narnia books on my bedroom floor waiting to be read, and the fact that I’m off around the world next week means that I probably wouldn’t be able to even start them before I go. So someday, then- let’s face it, there are another couple of books to go yet, so the ones that are already out aren’t going anywhere. It’s just that the phenomenon really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, nor could it be- the last couple of book releases have been very carefully managed to create a sense of occasion and excitement, but that very quickly ebbs away until the next book or film comes out. But that’s the nature of crazes. Until I can persuade myself to part with some cash, I’ll content myself with the fact that the Potter saga has moved from my "never in a million years" pile to "sometime within the next year or so, once I’ve finished Narnia".