I’m currently at the Albuquerque (whew, spelled it correctly) Convention Center, where I’m surrounded by fellow members of the American Medical Writers Association (if you’re wondering if you should join: yes you should).  I’m continually amazed as the conference progresses at how hyper-nice everyone is–and not in a "I’ll pretend to be nice so I can find out your secrets and stab you in the back" way, but in a "your line of work sounds so interesting and how is your family doing?" way.  Right now, I’m taking a rest from an overload of interesting sessions.  To wit:

•  A fun conversation with a former English teacher who is now an editor for the CDC and a former physical therapist who is now a freelance medical writer.  The most fun part of the conversation was when they recited about forty lines, simultaneously, of the beginning of the "General Prologue" to the Canterbury Tales.  And then, once I left, I remembered the first line of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and I was disappointed that I could not perform my own scanty medieval skills.
• The keynote address delivered by Dr. Dale Alverson of the University of New Mexico focused on telehealth, which uses technology for clinical and educational purposes.  The most intriguing part of the address, for me, was his insistence that international health problems are domestic problems eventually because travel is so widespread.  The natural conclusion, then, is that the developed world should use its technology to help solve health issues in the developing world.  I am predisposed to support such a message, since I firmly believe in the responsibility of rich nations to bring poor nations out of extreme poverty; his rationale was all the more convincing, though, because it attaches a pragmatic justification for altruism.
• Dr. A. John Rush, a psychiatrist at the Southwestern Medical Center in Dallas, gave a hilarious and insightful summation of lessons he’s learned throughout his distinguished career (his CV is over 90 pages long).  I’ve long admired Dr. Rush’s work because his writing style is readable and modest–that is, I–a non-scientist–can understand the articles that he writes and he shows an awareness that his work is incremental.  He’s one of the best scientists in the world, and I’m happy to have finally seen him face-to-face.
• Finally, I’ve received a number of compliments for the poster I’m presenting at the conference, "An Electronic Method for Confirming Documentation."  I’ll be posting the PDF on "Refuge" as soon as I can.  Alternately, I can send it by email if requested.

I think that most literary scholars and reasonable readers are either apathetic or dismayed that another loudmouth has gone on about the evils of Harry Potter.  (Via Mark)  The current loudmouth does not differ too much from her ancestor loudmouths, except that she is the first that I’ve heard who has made an explicit connection between Harry Potter and school shootings.

Referring to the recent rash of deadly assaults at schools, Mallory said books that promote evil - as she claims the Potter ones do - help foster the kind of culture where school shootings happen.

That would not happen if students instead read the Bible, Mallory said.

She added that the books were harmful to children who are unable to differentiate between reality and fantasy.

It’s rather appropriate that her name is Mallory, because I’m going back to medieval literature with my thoughts.  The medieval authors and critics (widely interpreted) valued literature that delighted and instructed.  In most cases, the delighting was gloss to draw readers (or listeners) in so they would keep reading (or listening).  In other words, entertainment was secondary, almost always subsurvient to a particular ideal–avoiding sin, building virtue–being promulgated.

This view of literature is fundamentally different than modern literature, and not just because we have become more cynical and less religious.  Medieval writers tended to start from an abstract notion and invent characters and situations that would personify that abstraction–that is, they would form an allegory.  Modern writers tend to start with a specific character or situation and form a story that speaks to more universal issues. 

This movement from abstract to specific is important because it comments not only on how we view literature itself, but how we view literature’s purpose and effects.  Medieval writers and critics made two key assumptions: good literature promotes virtue and bad literature promotes sin.  A natural corollary is that depictions of sin without comment or explanation (such as an adjoining mini-sermon) also beget sin.  Hence the overuse throughout medieval literature of St. Paul’s statement that all that is written "is written for our doctrine."  I think that current literature understands that not all that is written must be written for our doctrine–that literary art is a deeper mystery than didactic writers and critics would have us believe.  Moreover, there is a sense of pragmatism, that reading fantastic goings-on–even fantastic goings-on that aren’t consistent with the reader’s sense of morality and decency–will not necessarily cause moral decay.  Thus, literature is not necessarily written for the objective betterment of the reader, and the same literature–it is assumed–will probably not destroy the reader’s worldview.

But now we come to Mrs. Mallory’s point: what about the children?  Aren’t they susceptible?  In a way, I think they are, but I think she is contributing to the problem rather than solving it.  Modern assumptions place a premium on personal judgment rather than exterior corruption.  Part of having good personal judgment is receiving proper instruction as a child–and part of that instruction should be how to deal with literature contrary to the child’s faith.  If children are told they might go Wiccan if they read the Harry Potter books, then they will be raised in an environment where external stimuli determine their morality.

And what happens when we allow access to reasonably wholesome books like Harry Potter–books that, despite witchcraft and wizardry,* promote such things as friendship and literacy?  Well, children will take up the modern assumption–that J.K. Rowling is constructing a clever story intended to entertain, not a tract promoting the glories of Wicca.  Yes, they may play Harry Potter with their friends, but they will probably figure out soon enough that they lack magical powers.  Therefore, their spells will be harmless and playful, not malicious acts of worship to whomever the Wiccans pray to.

My annoyance at this issue may seem unreasonable to some because I am not a parent.  I don’t intend to intrude or even comment on parenting practices, but I feel that many parents fundamentally misunderstand what literature is and what it does.  I understand that they want to protect their children from harm, spiritual and temporal, and I believe they have a right to say what they think.  But I also think the prevailing literary attitudes of our culture will largely correct the problems they forsee.

*Strange that these loudmouths never complain about Gandalf or Merlin. 

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