Essay: Red Riding Hood Goes to Hogwarts
Many readers have
(rightly) seen traces of famous myths in Chamber of Secrets, such
as Persephone and Hades, in addition to the abundant sexual symbolism in the
book. In an earlier blog post (see Quantum Harry, the Podcast, Episode 3: Iron Maiden),
I compared Ginny Weasley to Persephone because they both embody the archetype
of the Maiden and Persephone’s return from Hades each spring was similar to
Ginny’s return from the Chamber, which brings her world back to life the way
that Persephone’s return each spring also reawakens the world.
However, “Little
Red Riding Hood” is the story that really pervades the book, and this positions
the second Harry Potter book at a
very important place in a Young Adult series: after this Harry is spiritually
mature and no longer needs rescuing.
As rewritten from
numerous folk-sources by Wilhelm Grimm, “Little Red Riding Hood” is a
Pentecostal tale. Pentecost is the Christian holiday that comes fifty days
after Easter; many people consider it to be the “birthday” of the Christian
church. In Acts 2:1-31, the story of Pentecost is told, when the Holy Spirit
appears as tongues of fire on the heads of Jesus’ disciples, or so the story
goes, after which they can speak in languages they previously hadn’t known.
Some biblical
scholars call this the flip side of the story of the Tower of Babel, in which
God is supposed to be upset about humans having the presumption to try to build
a tower reaching heaven, so they all suddenly start speaking in different
languages and can no longer understand each other—they sound like they are
“babbling”, in other words. In his book The
Great Code: The Bible and Literature, Northrop Frye writes that biblical
scholars say the Tower of Babel story is a tale that ‘prefigures’ the Pentecost
story, or foreshadows it, as well as flipping it—we go from an angry god
confusing humans’ speech so that they will not commit an act of hubris, to the
Holy Spirit making it possible for humans to speak the language of the Other in order to
spread the Gospel.
By the middle
ages, Pentecost was traditionally when young people in Europe were “confirmed”
and joined the church, after which they were considered adults. Wilhelm Grimm
was aware of this when he added the woodsman to “Little Red Riding Hood” as a
savior-figure, to avoid the heresy of Pelagianism—the idea that humans can be
saved from damnation without an outside agent to make up for the Original Sin
stemming from the Fall in Eden. Pelagianism is the opposite of Divine
Providence, a theological concept that was very important to Grimm.
Grimm’s religious
motivation for rewriting many old folk tales as “religious poetry” is
documented by G. Ronald Murphy in his book The
Owl, The Raven and the Dove. Murphy asserts that Grimm also rewrote “Hansel
and Gretel” to conform to this religious ideal. In early versions of that
story, the brother and sister escape from the witch who is fattening Hansel
in a cage and they return home under their own power, whereas Grimm confronts
them with “an unbridged river”, creating the necessity for them to rely upon
what Murphy calls “supernatural transport”. Murphy, a Jesuit, equates
this with God’s grace and the intercession of the Holy Spirit.
An outside agent—or
a savior—being necessary in a story to avoid blasphemy wasn’t an idea created
by Christianity. Long before Wilhelm Grimm or Christianity, Greek playwrights
used the deus ex machina in stage
dramas. The “god from the machine” (the meaning of deus ex machina) was an actor portraying a god who was lowered or
raised onto the stage by a mechanical device, bringing proclamations concerning
the characters and tying off any trailing plot threads with the wave of an
omnipotent hand.
Today the deus ex machina in any kind of writing
is considered a trite, “easy” solution, and when it’s called out it’s not
usually because a critic wants to praise the author for avoiding blasphemy. Many
critics of this device may not even know it had anything to do with blasphemy,
but if you’re going criticize this in pre-modern works it is wise to recognize
that it was originally meant to show respect. It was an embodiment of a common
belief, crossing religious lines, that humans’ salvation was in the gods’
hands, not our own. There are people who still adhere to this belief, and people
are still writing works with a deus ex
machina of some sort, quite deliberately.
The insertion of a
savior into “Little Red Riding Hood” isn’t Grimm’s only manipulation of the
story. The Charles Perrault version is a cautionary tale: the girl and her
grandmother are devoured by the wolf at the end, which is abrupt and violent.
This is followed by a pithy moral about being wary of wolves, not all of whom
run “on four legs. / The smooth tongue of a smooth-skinned creature / May mask
a rough wolfish nature...”
There’s yet another version
in which the girl and her grandmother defeat the wolf with their wits, but
Grimm would have had the same issue with that that he had with Hansel and
Gretel getting home on their own.
Perrault’s story of
Red Riding Hood has blatantly sexual overtones—the wolf has the girl join him
in bed—but Grimm omits this. Perrault and Grimm seem to want the story to either
be about sexual or spiritual
awakening, while Rowling, through her imagery and symbolism, enmeshes both elements in Chamber of Secrets.
Murphy discusses
Perrault’s and Ludwig Tieck’s versions alongside Grimm’s. In Tieck the girl is
looking forward to her confirmation and receives a red cap from her
grandmother. Murphy writes that this most likely stems from “a folk custom of
wearing red...in honor of the feast of Pentecost, when confirmation is
customarily administered...” If Perrault’s is a cautionary tale and Tieck’s is an
early horror story—his ending is both humorous and gory—then Grimm’s is an
allegory of receiving salvation by the grace of God despite being a flawed
sinner.
The girl in the
story is called “sweet” and everyone who lays eyes on her is fond of her. We
can easily transpose this description to Ginny Weasley. Grimm’s heroine
receives a red hood from her grandmother. Ginny’s red hair is her chief
distinguishing physical trait, a legacy from her parents and grandparents. Murphy
cites Bruno Bettelheim calling the red hood “a sign of female sexuality”, while in Murphy’s reading of Grimm, it is “a sign of the moment of spiritual maturity”, due to the tie to confirmation and Pentecost that’s more explicit in Tieck. Again, one can see sexual and spiritual maturity being equated, just as it is in Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials books. (See Quantum Harry, the Podcast, Episode 12: Grow Up Now.)
Early in Grimm’s
tale the girl is told not to “go off the path” on the way to her grandmother’s.
In Chamber of Secrets we learn that
Ginny had a similar warning from her father. Near the end of the book, Arthur
Weasley says, “What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think
for itself if you can’t see where it
keeps its brain.” Both girls are going to a place connected to their family
heritage, they’re on the cusp of knowing the difference between good and evil,
of being sexually and spiritually mature, but they both fall prey to a Tempter.
When Red Riding
Hood first encounters the wolf in Grimm’s story she’s not afraid, because she
“did not know what a bad animal he was”. Ginny thinks of Tom Riddle as “a
friend I can carry round in my pocket.” Murphy calls the girl’s reaction “a
statement of prelapsarian innocence”—which means innocence like Adam and Even
had before the Fall, before they knew about good and evil, which also seems to
be how we’re supposed to regard Ginny. This may be why Dumbledore holds Ginny
blameless. The fault lies with the “wolf”—Tom Riddle.
Murphy points out
that earlier versions had Red Riding Hood meeting the wolf in the village,
while Grimm moves this to the woods. According to Murphy, entering the woods “…is
to enter one’s grandparents’ and parents’ world, the continuum of the ancient
awareness of right and wrong by becoming capable of doing good and doing
wrong.” This
is the equivalent, for Ginny, of going to Hogwarts, where her parents,
grandparents and other ancestors learned to use magic responsibly, where they
learned to discern the right path.
Murphy sees the
wolf as “the Germanic equivalent for the serpent in the garden.” He mentions
the wolf Fenris from Germanic mythology, who, at the end of the world, is “to
kill the god Thor (and be killed by Thor’s hammer at the same time).” Like
Thor, Harry’s “emblem” is a lightning bolt: his scar. This encounter between
Thor and Fenris in Norse mythology is eerily similar to Harry’s battle with the
basilisk, since, at the moment that Harry kills the beast, he is also
penetrated by one of its fangs, which contains poisonous venom. It’s
undoubtedly no coincidence that, in the sixth book (which mirrors many elements
of the second) Rowling introduces a character called Fenrir, a werewolf who makes it a habit to prey upon children.
In The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Joseph
Campbell describes the battle at the end of the world involving Thor, Odin,
Fenris-wolf and the world serpent. He writes:
The dog Garm at the
cliff-cave, the entrance to the world of the dead, shall open his great jaws
and howl...Fenris-Wolf shall run free... The world-enveloping serpent of the
cosmic ocean shall rise in giant wrath and advance beside the world upon the
land, blowing venom.... [Odin] shall advance against the wolf, Thor against the
serpent....Thor shall slay the serpent, stride ten paces from that spot, and
because of the venom blown fall dead to the earth. [Odin] shall be swallowed by
the wolf...
Wolf and snake are
conflated in Chamber of Secrets. Both
the basilisk and Tom Riddle, who plays the role of the wolf from the fairy
tale, are “snakes”. There may have
been numerous sources known to Grimm in which a wolf is linked to the devil, so
equating the tempting wolf of the fairy tale with the tempting serpent in the
garden hardly seems like a stretch. Another parallel is that, as an adult,
Riddle changes his name to Voldemort, but most people in the wizarding world
say, “He Who Must Not Be Named” or “You Know Who”. This is similar to folk
customs that forbid people to say the name of the Devil, substituting things like
“Old Nick”, due to superstitions that to name the Devil is the same as invoking
or summoning him. Similarly, no one wants to invoke or summon Voldemort by
saying his name, and this “game” becomes very real in the seventh book.
When the wolf asks
Red Riding Hood where her grandmother lives, she replies, “...under the three
great oak trees, underneath them are the hazelnut hedges...” In this passage,
Murphy believes that Grimm is indirectly referencing a Germanic god, Odin, to
whom the oak is sacred, which again reminds the reader of Fenris, the adversary
of Odin and Thor. The fact that it’s three
oak trees, however, evokes the Trinity, which brings the symbolism into Christian
times.
The hazelnut
reference can be considered another pagan element, since, according to Murphy,
“The hazel-nut hedge marks off sacred space in Germanic mythology, hazel sticks
being placed in a circle to create the sacred space required for a judicial
assembly with divine sanction in ancient times. Thus the hazel image is that of
a place of contest and divine judgment.”
Rowling converts
the hazel to the myrtle: Moaning Myrtle. Myrtle the plant can be grown as a
hedge and is known for its thick, protective, impenetrable foliage. It’s also a
symbol of Aphrodite and love, and the myrtle flower was often included in
bridal bouquets. Rowling may also have liked the Jewish story (if she knows it)
of a woman accused of and killed for being a witch who was turned into a myrtle
tree after her death. Part of the lore surrounding the tree also says that if
you chew myrtle leaves you can detect witches.
Like Ginny, who is
symbolically “swallowed” by her wolf, Red Riding Hood is swallowed whole by the
wolf. This allows the hunter to cut her and her grandmother, who was eaten
first, out of the wolf’s stomach, where they are alive and well. Murphy writes:
“The hunter’s identity
as the Savior, as Christ, is shown in the resurrection of the two women,
ancient and new, from the death which comes through succumbing to temptation,
sin.... Even after he deceives good persons...their souls still shine with the
red glow of their gifted spiritual light even in the darkness of his belly,
until Christ comes and descends into the darkness of their death and
performs...one of the favorite mysteries of medieval Christianity, the
harrowing of hell.”
Harry is the
woodsman/hunter/savior in Rowling’s version, descending into a metaphorical
hell to save Ginny from the wolf/snake who has tempted her, deceived her, removed
her volition, and drained most of her life-force. Unlike the woodsman in Grimm’s
tale, Harry is not the deus ex machina—another
entity assists Harry. This, in addition to Ginny’s red hair being the
equivalent of a Red Hood, adds even more Pentecostal imagery to Chamber of Secrets.
Despite Rowling
presenting a child/young adult as the protagonist, which means he should be the
one to resolve the plot, she seems to use the deus ex machina in the first two books to distinguish between
Harry-the-child and Harry the newly-born-hero, which he cannot become until the
end of the second book, after he spiritually matures.
In the two books
in which Rowling uses the deus ex machina,
Harry is still inarguably a child, and his achieving salvation on his own is
implausible; he hasn’t acquired the skills or maturity. But he does have
wholeness and purity of heart bestowed by an outside force: his mother Lily.
Her love, the power of wholeness, protects him and prevents Quirrell from
touching Harry without doing himself irreparable harm. Harry did nothing to
accomplish that; he is saved by outside agents active before he was born, in
addition to Dumbledore, another deus ex
machina in the first book, who pulls Quirrell off him when he returns to
Hogwarts.
Rowling uses the deus ex machina in the second book when
Harry makes his statement of faith in Dumbledore, the god-figure who embodies
the Godfather variant of the Wise Old Man archetype. This simple statement of
faith brings Fawkes the phoenix to Harry in the Chamber of Secrets. Fawkes is
carrying the Sorting Hat, and Gryffindor’s Sword is inside it. Fire is the
thing most associated with the phoenix, through which it dies and is reborn. As
I wrote earlier, the story of Pentecost says that Christ’s disciples saw the
Holy Spirit appear as tongues of fire on their heads; this is a sign of their
faith, their belief, and when this happens on Pentecost, they receive the
ability to speak in other tongues so they can spread the gospel.
Fawkes symbolizes
the Holy Spirit, but when he appears in the Chamber, creating Harry’s
Pentecostal moment, Harry already has the gift of speaking to those who are the
“Other”, a side-effect of Voldemort making him the accidental Horcrux. This
ability is displayed early in the first book, when Harry talks to the snake he
frees from the zoo, but it isn’t named until the second book, in which he has his
symbolic confirmation or bar mitzvah.
Harry is about to
turn thirteen, which is the “commandment age” for Jewish boys. Preparing for a
bar mitzvah includes learning to speak an unfamiliar language, in order to read
a portion of the Torah during the ceremony. (This is unfamiliar even to
children in Israel, many of whom grow up speaking Modern Hebrew, a different
language from Ancient Hebrew, just as Modern Greek is not the same as any
dialect of Ancient Greek.) Afterward, the boy is considered to be a man, a
responsible member of the community who must perform mitzvot—good deeds—and go on a fast at Yom Kippur.
Like Grimm’s
hunter, Harry uses a weapon to slay the basilisk, though a snake is standing in
for a wolf, rather than the other way around, which is what we get in Grimm’s
story. Harry uses the serpent’s tooth itself to stab the diary, freeing Ginny
from the metaphorical belly of the beast. They both leave the Chamber, having
spiritually and physically matured.
Rowling again makes good use of Fawkes, her symbolic Holy Spirit, by having him
heal Harry, so he doesn’t die. Fawkes also bears everyone—Harry, Ginny, Ron and
Lockhart—out of the symbolic hell of the Chamber.
Having reached
this milestone, Harry doesn’t encounter a deus
ex machina at the climax of the next book, and in each subsequent book
Rowling also refrains from using this device. It had its place in the first two
but it would be inappropriate in the rest of the books. Harry now has the
ability to save himself and others and no longer needs an outside force for his
salvation. The savior of the wizarding world needs no other savior.
Grimm didn’t
include his woodsman to “cop out”, and Rowling doesn’t rely on Fawkes to help
Harry because she couldn’t think of something else. He plays a very specific
role as the embodiment of the Holy Spirit and allows us to see that Harry was
still a child earlier, though he was on the cusp of adulthood, and needed to
cross over into adulthood before fulfilling the role of savior to all of
Hogwarts, but specifically Ginny, who represents all children who stumble
before learning the difference between right and wrong.
In an earlier post (see Quantum Harry, the Podcast, Episode 11: Wargames),
I wrote about the seven thresholds Hagrid crosses with Harry in the first book that
each align with one of the seven books in the series. The first threshold was
when Hagrid brought Harry to Dumbledore in Surrey, Dumbledore being the best
embodiment of the Wise Old Man, the archetype ruling the first book in the
series. (See Quantum Harry, the Podcast, Episode 2: This Old Man.)
Just as the first threshold involved Hagrid flying
with Harry over water to bring him to Dumbledore in Surry, the second threshold
Hagrid crosses with Harry again involves a water-crossing: He delivers Harry’s
Hogwarts letter to him in the hut on the rock. If JK Rowling hadn’t made Uncle
Vernon desperate to flee the letters, Hagrid wouldn’t have needed to cross
water to reach Harry, and Harry wouldn’t have needed to cross water with Hagrid
again to leave the rock. I believe Rowling did this quite deliberately to
manipulate the circumstances because she wanted another water-crossing for Harry,
signaling another symbolic rebirth. Once again, he does this with Hagrid, an
archetypal Mother. (See Quantum Harry, the Podcast, Episode 4: Mother, May I?)
The link between this episode in the first book and
the second book of the series is very straightforward: this threshold-crossing
involves Hagrid delivering a letter to Harry, a piece of writing. In Harry Potter and
the Chamber of Secrets, Ginny Weasley is the character who best embodies
the Maiden, the ruling archetype for that book, and she not only features
prominently in JK Rowling’s version of a classic fairy tale—a piece of writing—but
she also spends the better part of her first year at Hogwarts writing—in Tom Riddle’s cursed diary,
which Harry also does before entering the Chamber to return both Ginny and
Hogwarts to life again.
Adapted
from the script for Quantum Harry, the Podcast, Episode 13: Deus ex Machina, Copyright 2017-2018 by Quantum Harry Productions and B.L. Purdom. See
other posts on this blog for direct links to all episodes of Quantum Harry.
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