When mysterious letters start arriving on his doorstep, Harry Potter has never heard of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
They are swiftly confiscated by his aunt and uncle.
Then, on Harry’s eleventh birthday, a strange man bursts in with some important news: Harry Potter is a wizard and has been awarded a place to study at Hogwarts.
And so the first of the Harry Potter adventures is set to begin. ([source][1])
When mysterious letters start arriving on his doorstep, Harry Potter has never heard of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
They are swiftly confiscated by his aunt and uncle.
Then, on Harry’s eleventh birthday, a strange man bursts in with some important news: Harry Potter is a wizard and has been awarded a place to study at Hogwarts.
And so the first of the Harry Potter adventures is set to begin.
([source][1])
Review of "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" on 'Goodreads'
3 stars
It read really nicely. Something about simplicity of the story and...it made me feel good in the end. It's not a literary masterpiece, but I can see why it's a bestseller. Quite entertaining.
It read really nicely. Something about simplicity of the story and...it made me feel good in the end. It's not a literary masterpiece, but I can see why it's a bestseller. Quite entertaining.
Once there was a boy called Harry Aloysius Potter, and he nearly deserved it. One fine morning Harry was attempting once more, in the dark land of Behind-the-Shed where the shadows lie, to make a pile of vaguely-animated sludge pregnant. A shadow fell over him; and despite the bright sky of the day the land of Behind-the-Shed was always black and gloomy. What godsforsaken Thing could cast a shadow down there? It was an owl, smoking a corncob pipe. It perched on the apex of the shed and looked down at Harry. One ringpiece to rule them all, eh, Harry? It said, in something that was if not the Black Speech sufficiently close to it that squirrels died of fright and creatures long unnamed shifted underground in their burroughs and shuddered. Who are you? said Harry. You know me, Harry, said the owl, and long, long moments ticked by and …
Once there was a boy called Harry Aloysius Potter, and he nearly deserved it. One fine morning Harry was attempting once more, in the dark land of Behind-the-Shed where the shadows lie, to make a pile of vaguely-animated sludge pregnant. A shadow fell over him; and despite the bright sky of the day the land of Behind-the-Shed was always black and gloomy. What godsforsaken Thing could cast a shadow down there? It was an owl, smoking a corncob pipe. It perched on the apex of the shed and looked down at Harry. One ringpiece to rule them all, eh, Harry? It said, in something that was if not the Black Speech sufficiently close to it that squirrels died of fright and creatures long unnamed shifted underground in their burroughs and shuddered. Who are you? said Harry. You know me, Harry, said the owl, and long, long moments ticked by and the Dursleys' car exploded sending wheels of coruscating aluminium into low Earth orbit. You have always known me. Your mother knew me. My mother is dead, said Harry, staring into the owl's huge yellow eyes and wondering at the last thing a mouse saw before it became dinner. Harry felt hungry. Don't speak rudely of my mother. Your mother was a jackal, said the owl, offhand. You never knew her. I used to visit her in the zoo and we had long congress - not that kind, elevate your mind from the gutter - at night when the zoo is asleep. Did you wonder about that, Harry? The night world of the zoo when all the children have gone home? And the zookeeper is tucked up in her bed fretting whether every gate is locked? No, said Harry, though he had. I am your nemesis, said the owl. Though not just yet. I bring a letter. And it dropped a scroll, sealed with wax in several inchoate and deepspace colours, into the pile of festering sludge that even now was whispering sweet words of love and delight. That was low, said Harry. Well it is now, said the owl. I must be off. See ya. And read the bloody letter. Harry reached for the letter and for a moment something that could have been a hand, in some other land, reached too and then fell back into the pile. Harry, feeling like Prince Arthur seizing the sword in the Stone, pulled and the letter was in his hand. The owl was a black silent shape winging it into the darkening sky. Harry undid the seal.
Review of "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" on 'Goodreads'
3 stars
Le premier tome de la célébrissime saga Harry Potter, qu'on ne présente plus. Un premier volume enfantin, à l'image de l'âge des héros dans ces débuts pleins de naïveté mais qui donnent tout de même envie de lire la suite.
Le premier tome de la célébrissime saga Harry Potter, qu'on ne présente plus. Un premier volume enfantin, à l'image de l'âge des héros dans ces débuts pleins de naïveté mais qui donnent tout de même envie de lire la suite.
I think that this was my thrid or fourth reading of this book, and I still enjoyed it a lot, and identified with the characters. I still like it best of all the Harry Potter books, in spite of a plot hole that I'm sure many other readers must ha wondered about --in the denouement, when Harry Potter passes all the obstacles, he notices that the key has a broken with, so someone had been there before them. But the potion bottles, including the smallest, which he had to drink, still appeared to be full.
I think that this was my thrid or fourth reading of this book, and I still enjoyed it a lot, and identified with the characters. I still like it best of all the Harry Potter books, in spite of a plot hole that I'm sure many other readers must ha wondered about --in the denouement, when Harry Potter passes all the obstacles, he notices that the key has a broken with, so someone had been there before them. But the potion bottles, including the smallest, which he had to drink, still appeared to be full.
