Like millions of other readers in America, we got our copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix right away this past Saturday morning. We could have picked ours up at midnight, when the store was briefly open, but I decided to wait &045; eight more hours just didn’t seem as big a problem to me as it must have to others.

We actually didn’t start reading J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter novels until after number three had come out. I admit I wasn’t really paying attention to the hubbub, and I also have a perverse streak that leads me to skip any books or movies that are part of some kind of &uot;fad.&uot; It was hard to avoid these novels, though, with so many copies sitting on the shelves in libraries and bookshelves and with so many of my eldest daughter’s friends talking about them. Once I started hearing fellow English teachers talking about the books, and how these books had kids reading instead of watching TV, it was only a matter of time before I started checking them out for myself.

What I discovered is that they are pretty entertaining works of fiction, and they aren’t all fluff and nonsense. These are stories about the perpetual struggle between good and evil, the importance of friendship and family, and how evil people sometimes come close to winning. Once we started reading, we couldn’t stop. Harry’s adventures have a way of catching our attention and keeping it until the story is finished and beyond. New words have entered our families vocabulary, like muggles &045; non-magical people &045; and quidditch &045; a game that’s sort of like soccer and sort of like basketball, but played while flying through the air.

Now I know that many conservative evangelical Christians have condemned the stories about Harry Potter. They claim Rowling has made the occult more glamorous and attractive to children. I just don’t buy that. The people I’ve met who really believe in witchcraft and Satan worship didn’t read novels about magic; they actually grew up in conservative Christian households where &uot;Satan&uot; lurked behind every door. Go figure!

I also know of other Christians (and Jews and Muslims and Hindus) who enjoy the stories as works of fiction and do not see them as depictions of reality. Like them, I see the positive &uot;lessons&uot; of the book as it teaches them about right and wrong, and the consequences of doing nothing in the face of evil.

This does not mean that I think these stories are the greatest novels ever written. As much as I enjoy reading about Harry, I find the stories that inspired Rowling, like Ursula LeGuin’s Wizard of Earthsea novels and Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy, to be much more engaging. I find the themes and the use of magic in those books to be much more mature, plausible and even realistic &045; if it’s possible to say that about magic and fantasy. If there’s one thing that I find disappointing in Rowling’s novels, it’s the way that acts of magic change reality too easily. For example, if a human turns into a rat or a beetle, what happens to all of the extra mass?

Of course, like any good novel, the books of J. K. Rowling are dangerous, just not in the way some Christians think they are. Books worth reading, after all, both activate the imagination and make us think. Like many of the best children’s literature, Rowling’s stories expose the hypocrisy of the adult world. They teach children that obeying stupid or evil rules can be just as bad as breaking good ones. The unimaginative, bureaucratic mindset Harry encounters in the world of the novels is sometimes frighteningly realistic. Children reading about Harry Potter’s life with his uncle and aunt will see what misery looks like, and how adults &045; whether they are parents, guardians or teachers &045; often get away with being cruel and unfair because too much of the power is on their side.

The magical powers in Harry Potter stories, or Earthsea or Middle-earth or any other fictional fantasy world, aren’t part of our world. No matter how much we try, we can’t change reality that way. But in good stories, mixed in with the make-believe bits, there are lessons worth learning. I don’t regret the hours I’ve spent at Hogwarts or Privet Drive with Harry Potter. My only regret is promising my daughter that I wouldn’t start reading the new novel until she’s finished!

David Rask Behling is a rural Albert Lea resident. His column appears Tuesdays.