Harry Potter and Little Nell
A devoted Harry Potter fan, I have not yet read “The Deathly Hallows,” so be assured whatever plot twists J.K. Rowling has cooked up will not be revealed here.
What I will reveal is that the mania to find out what happens to Harry is not a new literary phenomenon. The immortal Charles Dickens, whose talent for inventive characters and names lives on in Rowling, created probably the first ever New York traffic jam when the final installment of one of his stories was making its way by steamer from England.
“The Old Curiosity Shop” ultimately came out in 1841 as a 600-page novel, but was first released, as were most of Dickens’ works, in serial format on paper sheets bought monthly. Dickens ensured the next chapter’s success by ending the current chapter with a cliff-hanger. In “Curiosity Shop,” the main character is Little Nell Trent, granddaughter to the shop’s owner. Through a series of unfortunate choices and fate, Little Nell and her grandfather end up on the run from a repulsive dwarf named Quilp who chases them all over the English countryside.
Little Nell, in true Dickensian style, is probably the most angelic, kind, tender-hearted child who ever walked the earth. When she hacks out a wee cough sitting next to a headstone in a cemetery in a later chapter, all Victorian readers know what’s coming. Dickens was well aware that almost every English and American household of the 19th century had lost a child to illness or in an accident. By making Nell angelic and then foreshadowing a possible demise, he tapped into the emotions of all who had put their own child in Nell’s place.
In the 19th century, of course, all imported literature had to travel by ship, and “The Old Curiosity Shop” was no exception. As chapter after chapter arrived in New York City, lines of readers would stand for hours waiting to get their hands on the next installment, Little Nell’s condition deteriorating with every page. When the final chapter was due, the crowds moved to the docks of New York City, crushing each other and waiting for word on Little Nell’s fate as the ship carrying the installment inched its way into port.
As the ship pulled into harbor, someone yelled to a man on deck, “What happens to Little Nell?”
“She’s dead!” wailed the man as loudly as he could.
Pandemonium ensued. One would have thought Little Nell was as real as George Washington and just as revered. And so it is with Harry.
We modern Brits and Americans have devoured each book in turn, knowing that Book Seven would be the bittersweet end, just as the Victorians did for “The Old Curiosity Shop.” There is nothing new in being obsessed with a fictional character, but what is new is the millions of kids who grew up with Harry, turned on to reading for enjoyment by a boy with a lightning scar who fought evil and won.
At least, I hope he wins. I’ll have to go read “The Deathly Hallows” now to find out.
Karla K. Bruno is the author of Mischiefs and Miseries: a novel of Jamestown 1607. www.kkbruno.com