Halfway through Deathly Hallows

As I've mentioned, we got a very late start reading Harry Potter for a variety of reasons, including the very bad press the books got from Christian sources, and the fact that when the first book was published, our oldest was just 8. A dear friend (Hello, D!) gave us a copy of the book back then, and I started reading it aloud -- but honestly, kind of lost interest half way through. I just didn't think it was that great.

Fast forward to this summer and things changed. It wasn't until I got to the end of the second book that I was really captivated by the story, but after that, I was completely hooked.

Zip ahead again, to right now, and I'm having flashbacks to my first experience with Harry Potter. At first I thought I was reading this last book slowly so I could savor ir. Now I'm starting to realize that I'm reading it slowly because I'm getting a little weary of it. Harry is careening from one terrifying action scene to another, dragging various friends, goblins, and elves and magical objects along with him. It's starting to feel like the grand finale of a fireworks show -- BAM! CRASH! POP! BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM!!! -- and I'm showing signs of thrill overload.

The other thing is that I'm getting a little cynical about the magical plot devices; in every new terrifying situation, one of the threesome (Harry, Hermione, or Ron) will come up with some brand-new, custom-designed spell that's just what they need. I guess what I'm saying is that my suspension of disbelief has been strained to the limit.

But I do like the storyline of this book -- that they're in exodus, hiding and running from the Death Eaters, on their final quest to defeat Voldemort -- and I am really enjoying the symbolism of the situations they get into (for example, Bellatrix's vault turning into a kind of gold-filled hell).

So it's not that I don't like the book, but it's not going to be my favorite, I'm pretty sure.