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So there I was, patrolling the fantasy aisle at a local B. Dalton Bookseller with truncheon in hand to keep the sprogs in line. Sure, I might have been getting odd looks from the sales personnel with every yelp of pain that echoed through the shop, but I'm willing to put up with a little social tension to keep our precious youth from exposure to bad fantasy fiction. Honestly, is a swift rap on the knuckles too much of a price to pay to not have to accidentally read a wad of self-indulgent crapulence such as Mercedes Lackey's Diana Tregard series? I think not. I only wish someone had done the same for me when I was a misty-eyed lad of twelve.

Of course, nearby parents were also becoming alarmed at the frequency of my furtive attacks. However, thanks to my efforts, dozens of bright young fantasy readers left the store that day with something by Gaiman, Pratchett, Feist, or Papa Tolkien rather than the 367th Wheel of Time 900-pager (written that morning and released early that afternoon) or, Gods forbid, another posthumous hack collaboration with L. Ron Hubbard.

Sadly, store security shared the feelings of the parents, and all too soon I was being frog-marched to the exit, head held high. On the way out, we passed a large display shelf full of Harry Potter books. If you haven't been living for the past several years in an airtight chamber on the murky bottom of Loch Ness, you'll recognize this series as the one that broke over the youth literary scene last year with Pokemon-scale force. Making good on my long promise to find out what the fuss was about, I managed to secure my freedom long enough to purchase a paperback edition of the first book in the series, Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone.

Afterward, I strolled over to a favorite coffee shop with the intention of writing for a few hours and perhaps reading a chapter or two of the book. Foolish me. The first chapter was lightly amusing, nothing really special. The second chapter was a bit more interesting. The third chapter had me chuckling out loud. The fourth chapter had me misty-eyed. My productivity was destroyed. Before I realized it, I had read the entire book in one setting. The coffee shop was closing. Godzilla could have strolled by in the street outside while I was reading, dropping flaming Sport Utility Vehicles from his posterior, and I would not have noticed. This book is simply that engrossing.

Magic, Dammit, Magic!

Our roleplaying culture is saturated with so-called magic. From the hoary intricacies of Advanced Dungeons & Dragons to the zen splatterpunk wackiness of Mage: The Ascension, from Fifteenth-Level Fireballs to Thaumaturgical Rituals, we are inundated with the gaming ideals of magic. Magic as weapon. Magic as table, chart, or spell list. Magic as pile of enchanted items. But how often do we encounter magic for magic's sake? How often does magic become a vehicle to adventure and a source of pure delight instead of the fantasy gaming equivalent of on-call artillery support? I humbly submit the Harry Potter series as an ideal way to rediscover your sense of wonder, whether you're a gamemaster, player, or casual reader.

Muggles, Mischief, and Misplaced Orphans

Harry Potter is a young boy who lives a miserable existence with his aunt and uncle, the aggressively mundane Dursleys. Harry was left on their doorstep as an infant following the mysterious death of his parents, whom the Dursleys regard as a disgrace to the family. Harry's joyless life is enlivened only by the bizarre events that are always taking place around him, no matter how hard he tries to behave. Each intrusion of the paranormal into Harry's life (such as the fact that he actually talks to a boa constrictor during a visit to the zoo) is met with an outburst of hostility from his guardians.

Harry's life as an ordinary boy comes to an abrupt end on his eleventh birthday, when he receives astonishing news: he is a wizard, the child of wizards, and he is expected to attend the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the start of the fall term instead of the neighborhood secondary school. The Dursleys, it seems, have concealed Harry Potter's true heritage from him. Wanting nothing to do with the world of magic, which hides contentedly beneath the surface of Muggle (non-magical) society, they hid the evidence and letters which were intended for him.

Moreover, Harry swiftly discovers that he is famous in the wizarding world. His parents were not killed in a car accident as he was told- they were murdered by Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark magician of the age. However, when Voldemort turned his powers on the infant Harry, they inexplicably backfired, nearly destroying him. Harry survived the attack with nothing but a small scar between his eyes, and is widely revered for driving the tyrant Voldemort into hiding.

Harry's life is about to become very exciting, especially when it becomes clear that the forces of darkness are still intensely interested in discovering Harry's secret.

Reams of Bewitching Details

Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone really starts to shine when Harry begins preparations for his first term at Hogwarts, the hidden primary academy of the occult arts. Students scramble through a hidden London street ("Diagon Alley") seeking potion ingredients, uniform robes, wands, and broomsticks. Animal familiars are status symbols among the young wizardlings (As their introductory letters state, "Students are permitted ONE cat OR toad OR owl.") and some of the poorer students must make do with hand-me-down cauldrons, hats, cloaks, and wands. I find myself curiously delighted at the image of classes of clumsy little youngsters trundling around in baggy black robes trying to learn the difference between Transfiguration and Tanas Root.

Author J.K. Rowling does a spectacular job of filling her magical world with detail after polished detail, creating a vivid and enchanting setting that will, by the second and third book in the series, become as intricate and fully-realized as most "adult" works of fantasy fiction. In this world, photographs move, sleep, and even take turns visiting one another. Preternaturally insightful owls are the preferred means of delivering the daily mail. A Ministry of Magic, segmented into countless bureaucratic cloisters, watches over the wizarding world and keeps its existence a secret from the Muggle masses. Ancient banks run by goblins fill the catacombs beneath London, and the wizard world is united in fanatical pursuit of the game of Quidditch, which is played with four balls and six goalposts by teams mounted high in the air on broomsticks.

For every children's-story cliche she trots out, Rowling makes amends with ten original ideas. I can live with that.

You'll Laugh. You'll Cry.

Rowling's characters are a mixed lot. The Dursley's are gratingly one-dimensional, so it's no loss to move beyond them and move the action to Hogwarts. Some of the professors are incidental and obvious. (A Herbology teacher named Professor Sprout- highly cryptic, isn't it?) However, the remainder are so well fleshed-out you won't realize until it's too late how much they mean to you. I found my throat catching several times at Harry's discovery of the simple joys of friendship, and at the risks these curious little people take on behalf of one another.

That's right, risks. To her infinite credit, Rowling doesn't pull any punches when the forces of darkness creep into the story. Murdered unicorns, blood-drinking monsters, the death of parents, and a homicidal imposter are all part of the plot. The characters are in real danger, and they have to use real wit to escape it. No comforting Deus ex Machina here, no by-the-numbers conclusions to Harry's problems. The powers that haunt Harry Potter are powers to be taken seriously.

Occult Sentiments and Unhealthy Interests

The book is unabashed in its portrayal of an occult world, complete with potions, charms, ghosts, demons, werewolves, teleportation, enchanted devices, magical philosophy, and supernatural violence. This has raised the hackles of many conservative and religious groups concerned about the "negative influence" the "darkness and evil" of the Harry Potter series might have on impressionable youth. One word: Rubbish. In the pages of this book, you'll find our little heroes surviving their trials not through magic alone, but through self-sacrifice, hard work, bravery, and absolute loyalty to their friends and ideals. I haven't seen a better, more subtle presentation of heroic virtues in children's fiction. Ever.

Tolkien began The Fellowship of the Ring as a children's story in the tone of The Hobbit, but soon discovered that he wanted to move to a more adult voice and theme. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone has the same feel, that of an author finding and strengthening a voice that will break the bonds of convention and elevate the story beyond "children's" literature. Scholastic has taken the fairly unprecedented step of publishing "adult" editions of the Harry Potter books, with subdued, "respectable" covers, presumably so that the over-15 crowd can get their Potter fix without upsetting the Muggles around them.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone is one of those once-in-a-decade literary experiences, a jewel of a book for readers of all ages, confident in its tone and unique in its maturity. Rowling is a master storyteller and a magician in her own right. What's more, ladies and gentlemen, I can guarantee that where this series is concerned the best is yet to come.

Style: 4 (Classy and well done)
Substance: 4 (Meaty)