I was thinking about Luffy not wanting to be a hero when I realized something.
His very simple yet insightful line, "heroes share their meat, I want all the meat", very clearly shows that heroes make sacrifices. He doesn't want to make sacrifices. Perhaps it's because he's been the sacrifice himself.
Garp is a hero. He's cool too. But he was hardly present in Luffy's childhood. No matter how much he'd get beaten by his grandpa, I bet he'd still rather have him around than not ("being alone is worse than being hurt."). Yet Garp very clearly makes a sacrifice here. Being a marine being a priority over his grandson in the absence of the child's father.
Later, after Enies Lobby, he finds out that Dragon is a revolutionary. Literally a hero of the people. What's he done? The cost he paid for a greater good? He sacrificed Luffy.
So, while Luffy loves really deeply and fights for this love, he would rather have a death grip on his precious ones by being a pirate than let go and sacrifice and become a hero.
This may very well just be me looking too deeply into it, but the idea of Luffy being the sacrifice just did something to my insides that is hard to explain.
Nicely written đ
My problem with Lily and James being seen as a super couple has nothing to do with Severus Snape but rather with the fact that when we look at the relationship between James and Lily through a feminist lens, itâs hard not to notice some pretty glaring issues that go beyond just whether or not theyâre an âOTPâ couple. Sure, on the surface it might seem like a story of two people finding love amid all the chaos, but scratch beneath the surface and you see a whole lot more about toxic masculinity, objectification, and the erasure of a womanâs agency. James is celebrated as this charming, rebellious âbad boyâ with a roguish smile, while Lily gets stuck playing the role of the sacrificial, moral compass womanâsomeone who exists largely to balance out and even redeem the male narrative. And honestly, thatâs a problem.
James is shown as this complex, active character whoâs constantly surrounded by friends, enemies, and drama. His life is dynamic and full of choicesâeven if those choices sometimes involve manipulation and deceit. Heâs the kind of guy who can easily slip out of confinement with his Invisibility Cloak, leaving Lily behind in a narrative that, over time, turns her into a background figure. This dynamic isnât accidental; itâs reflective of how our culture often values male agency over female independence. Lily, on the other hand, is repeatedly reduced to her relationships with the men around her. Instead of being a person with her own dreams, opinions, and friendships, she becomes a symbolâa kind of emotional barometer for how âgoodâ or âbadâ a man is. Her character is used to validate the actions of others, which means her individuality gets smothered under the weight of a trope thatâs all too common in literature: the idea that a womanâs worth is measured by her ability to tame or save a troubled man.
This isnât just about a lack of depth in Lilyâs character; itâs also about how her portrayal reinforces harmful gender norms. Lily is depicted as this kind of sacrificial mother figureâa person whose primary virtue is her selflessness, her willingness to suffer and sacrifice for the sake of others. While selflessness is often celebrated in women, itâs a double-edged sword when that selflessness is the only thing we see. Instead of having her own narrative, her role is defined by how much she gives up, not by what she contributes or the inner life she leads. And itâs not just a narrative oversightâitâs a reflection of a broader cultural pattern where women are expected to be nurturing, supportive, and ultimately secondary to the male characters who drive the action.
Whatâs even more frustrating is how Lilyâs isolation is used to further the narrative of Jamesâs redemption. Over time, we see Lilyâs network of friends and her connections outside of James gradually disappear. Itâs almost as if, once she falls in love, her entire world is meant to shrink around that relationship. And hereâs where the feminist critique really kicks in: this isnât a realistic depiction of a balanced, healthy relationshipâitâs a story that subtly suggests that a womanâs fulfillment comes from being dependent on one man and his circle, rather than cultivating her own identity. Meanwhile, James continues to be portrayed as this larger-than-life figure whoâs got a whole world beyond his romantic entanglement, a world filled with vibrant interactions, rivalries, and a legacy that extends beyond his relationship with Lily.
Another point worth mentioning is the way in which the narrative seems to excuse Jamesâs less-than-stellar behavior. His manipulation, his lying, and his willingness to trick Lily into situations that serve his own interests are brushed off as quirks of a âbad boyâ personaâa kind of charm that, in the end, makes him redeemable because Lilyâs love is supposed to âtameâ him. This kind of storytelling not only normalizes toxic masculinity but also puts an unfair burden on Lily. Itâs like saying, âLook how amazing you are, youâre the only one who can fix him!â Thatâs a dangerous message because it implies that women are responsible for managing or even reforming male behavior, rather than holding men accountable for their own actions.
The imbalance in their character development is glaringly obvious when you compare how much more we learn about James versus how little we know about Lily. James is given room to be flawed, to grow, and to be complicated. His friendships, his rivalries, and even his mistakes are all part of what makes him a rounded character. Lily, however, is often just a name, a face in the background who exists mainly to serve as a counterpoint to Jamesâs narrative. Her inner life, her ambitions, and her struggles are rarely explored in any meaningful way, leaving her as a one-dimensional character whose only real purpose is to highlight the moral journey of the man she loves.
Itâs also important to recognize how this kind of narrative plays into broader cultural ideas about gender. When literature consistently portrays women as the quiet, isolated figures who are only valuable in relation to the men around them, it sends a message about what is expected of real-life women. It suggests that a womanâs worth is determined by how much she sacrifices or how well she can support a man, rather than by her own achievements or personality. This isnât just a harmless tropeâit contributes to a societal mindset that limits womenâs potential and reinforces gender inequality. The way Lily is written reflects a kind of âtamedâ femininity thatâs supposed to be passive, supportive, and ultimately secondary to the active, adventurous masculinity that James represents.
At the heart of the issue is the lack of balance in their relationship as depicted in the texts. The idea that Lily âfell forâ a man who was clearly not a paragon of virtue is problematic, but whatâs even more problematic is how her role in the relationship is so narrowly defined. Rather than being seen as an independent character who makes choices and has her own voice, she is constantly portrayed as someone whose existence is meant to validate the male experience. Even when the texts mention that Lily had her own issuesâlike hating James at times or suffering because of the way their relationship unfoldedâitâs always in a way that underlines her weakness compared to Jamesâs dynamic, active presence.
Looking at the broader picture, itâs clear that this isnât just about one fictional coupleâitâs a reflection of how gender dynamics have long been skewed in literature. Male characters are given the freedom to be complex, flawed, and full of life, while female characters are often stuck in roles that donât allow them to be fully realized. This isnât to say that every story with a sacrificial female character is inherently bad, but it does mean that when a character like Lily is reduced to a mere symbolâa moral compass or a measure of male worthâitâs time to ask why and what that says about the society that produced that narrative.
So, whatâs the way forward? For one, we need to start reimagining these relationships in a way that allows both partners to be fully fleshed out. Lily deserves to be more than just a side character or a moral benchmark; she should have her own narrative, her own dreams, and her own agency. And as much as it might be appealing to think of James as this redeemable rebel, itâs equally important to hold him accountable for the ways in which his behavior perpetuates harmful stereotypes about masculinity. A healthier narrative would be one in which both characters grow together, where mutual respect and equal agency are at the core of their relationship.
In the end, the story of James and Lily, as it stands, is a reminder of how deeply ingrained gender norms can shape the stories we tell. Itâs a cautionary tale about the dangers of allowing toxic masculinity to go unchecked and of confining women to roles that donât do justice to their full humanity. For anyone whoâs ever felt frustrated by these imbalances, thereâs hope in the idea of re-writing these narrativesâof pushing for stories where both men and women are seen as complete, complex individuals. And really, thatâs what literature should strive for: a reflection of the messy, beautiful, and often complicated reality of human relationships, where no one is just there to serve as a prop in someone elseâs story.
Ultimately, if we can start imagining a world where characters like Lily arenât just defined by their relationships to men, where their voices and stories are given as much weight as those of their male counterparts, then we can begin to chip away at the outdated tropes that have held us back for so long. Itâs about time we celebrated the full spectrum of human experienceâand that means giving women like Lily the space to shine on their own terms, without being constantly overshadowed by a âbad boyâ narrative that has little to say about their true selves.
Your values usually mirror the values of your closest loved ones. And neither James, Severus or Petunia were particularly kind so the idea of her being this saintly role model doesn't fit the picture.
Hi I have read many of your James posts and so far I agree with all of them. What gets me wondering however is someone like Lily Evans - potrayed as the saintly morally good character - dating someone like James - an entitled bully who kept his jerkish behavior even after he supposedly changed. Who do you think she was? Did she excused James's behavior because she found him attractive and thought she could change him? Or that he would change for her? Was she downplaying his faults because she fell in love? Or was she simply too naive? I cannot believe a person who would marry a person with so many faults like James wouldn't also be far off from being jerkish themselves. And what about her relationship with Severus? Was she as attached to him as he was? Why was she friends with him for so long if she was excusing his prejudice for years? I'm so conflicted about her. The author implies she is something but the text kind of goes against that. As someone who is pro snape and knows Lily was a big part of his life what do you think about her, her motives, actions or relationships? I love your opinions a lot btw never stop sharing themđ
I looove to talk about Lily because her character sucks. And not because of her, but because HOW Rowling portrays her. Sooo.. Lets go! Lily is emblematic of a significant issue in the series: the tendency to use female characters as tools for male development rather than as complex individuals with their own arcs. In Lilyâs case, her character functions primarily as a moral barometerâshe exists to reflect the âgoodnessâ or âbadnessâ of the men around her. Her choices and relationships with James and Severus are less about her own desires, values, or growth and more about how they impact these two men. This framing does Lily a disservice, stripping her of agency and interiority while simultaneously burdening her with the narrative role of deciding who is worthy and who is not
Rowlingâs portrayal of Lily is heavily idealized. She is the perfect mother who sacrifices herself for her son, the brilliant and talented witch who stands out even among her peers, and the moral compass who chooses âgoodâ (James) over âevilâ (Severus). This construction paints her as infallible, a paragon of virtue, and the embodiment of love and selflessness. However, this saintly image is rarely interrogated within the text.
The problem lies in the dissonance between how Lily is presented and the decisions she makes. If she is meant to represent moral perfection, her marriage to James âa character whose flaws remain evident even after his supposed redemptionâcreates a contradiction. James, even as an adult, retains the arrogance and hostility that defined his youth, particularly in his continued disdain for Snape. If Lily was as discerning and principled as the narrative suggests, why would she align herself with someone whose values and behavior contradict the ideal of Gryffindor bravery and fairness?
This contradiction weakens her role as a moral arbiter, making her decisions feel less like the result of her own judgment and more like a narrative convenience to validate Jamesâs redemption. By choosing James, she implicitly forgives or overlooks his past bullying, signaling that his actions were excusable or irrelevant to his worthiness as a partner. This not only diminishes the impact of Jamesâs flaws but also undermines Lilyâs supposed moral clarity.
Lilyâs role mirrors a common, harmful trope: the woman as a moral compass or fixer for flawed men. Her purpose becomes external rather than internalâshe isnât there to pursue her own goals, ideals, or struggles but to serve as a benchmark for othersâ morality. Itâs as if Lilyâs worth as a character is determined solely by her relationships with James and Severus rather than her own journey.
By failing to give Lily meaningful contradictions or flaws, Rowling inadvertently creates a character who feels passive and complicit. Her saintly veneer prevents her from being truly human, as real people are defined by their contradictions, growth, and mistakes. Yet Lily is static, existing only to highlight Jamesâs "redemption" or Severusâs "fall."
This lack of depth reflects a broader issue with how women are often written in male-centric narratives: their stories are secondary, their personalities flattened, and their actions only meaningful in the context of the men they influence. Itâs a stark reminder of the gender bias present in the series, where women like Lily, Narcissa, and even Hermione are often used to drive or validate male charactersâ arcs rather than having their own fully developed trajectories.
Regarding Lily and Severus relationship, their bond begins in a world where both feel alienated. Severus, growing up in the oppressive and neglectful environment of Spinnerâs End, finds in Lily not only a companion but a source of light and warmth that he lacks at home. For Lily, Severus is her first glimpse into the magical world, a realm that she belongs to but doesnât yet understand. Their friendship is symbiotic in its earliest stages: Severus offers Lily knowledge of her magical identity, while she provides him with acceptance and validation. However, this connection, while powerful in childhood, rests on a fragile foundationâone that fails to evolve as their circumstances and priorities shift. When they arrive at Hogwarts, the cracks in their bond begin to surface. While Lily flourishes socially, Severus becomes increasingly marginalized and becomes a frequent target of James Potter and Sirius Black. This social isolation only deepens his reliance on Lily, but for her, this dependency becomes increasingly difficult to sustain.
Itâs important to recognize that Lilyâs discomfort isnât only moral; itâs also social. By the time of their falling out, Lily has fully integrated into the Gryffindor social circle, gaining the admiration of her peers and, most notably, James Potter. Her association with Severus, now firmly positioned as an outsider and a future Death Eater, risks undermining her own social standing. While her final break with Severus is framed as a principled decision, itâs difficult to ignore the role that social dynamics might have played in her choice.
Itâs worth considering that Lilyâs shift toward James wasnât necessarily a sudden change of heart but rather the culmination of an attraction that may have existed all along, one rooted in what he represented rather than who he was. James Potter, as the embodiment of magical privilegeâa pure-blood, wealthy, socially adored Gryffindor golden boyâoffered Lily something that Severus never could: validation within the magical worldâs elite.
Though Lily was undoubtedly principled, itâs plausible that, beneath her moral convictions, there was a more human, and yes, superficial, desire for recognition and security in a world that was, for her, both wondrous and alien. Coming from a working-class, Muggle-born background, Lily would have been acutely aware of her outsider status, no matter how talented or well-liked she became. Jamesâs relentless pursuit of her, despite his arrogance and bullying tendencies, may have been flattering in ways that bolstered her sense of belonging. Jamesâs attention wasnât just personalâit was symbolic. His interest in her, as someone who could have easily chosen a pure-blood witch from his own social echelon, signaled to her and to others that she was not only worthy of respect but desirable within the upper echelons of wizarding society.
This dynamic raises uncomfortable questions about Lilyâs character. Could it be that she tolerated Jamesâs antics, not because she believed he would change for her, but because she enjoyed the social validation his affection brought her? Interestingly, this interpretation aligns Lily more closely with her sister Petunia than one might initially expect. Petuniaâs marriage to Vernon provided her with the stability and status she craved within the Muggle world. Both sisters may have sought partners who could anchor them in environments where they otherwise felt insecure. For Petunia, that meant latching onto the image of suburban perfection through Vernon. For Lily, it may have meant aligning herself with someone like James, whose wealth, status, and pure-blood background offered her a kind of social and cultural security in the magical world.
If we view Lilyâs relationship with James through this lens, her character becomes far less idealized and far more human. Rather than being the moral paragon the series portrays, she emerges as a young woman navigating an uncertain world, making choices that are as practical as they are principled. While itâs clear she disapproved of Jamesâs bullying, itâs equally possible that his persistence, confidence, and status were qualities she found increasingly difficult to resistânot because they aligned with her values, but because they appealed to her insecurities.
Itâs also worth noting that Lilyâs final break with Severus coincided with her growing relationship with James. This timing is telling. Severus, a social outcast from a poor background, represented the antithesis of James. By cutting ties with Severus, Lily not only distanced herself from the moral ambiguities of his choices but also from the social liabilities he represented. Aligning with James, by contrast, placed her firmly within the Gryffindor eliteâa position that would have offered her both social protection and personal validation. And this whole perspective is much more interesting than her image as a moral compass for the men around her. Unfortunately, as with many of her characters, Rowling didnât put any effort into giving us definitive answers; she just insisted on that unhealthy, idealized view of motherhood and the idea that everything is forgiven if you're on the "right" side and rich and popular.
Sorry for the long text, but whenever the topic of Lily comes up, I tend to go on and on, haha.
I love a blushing, giddy, nervous-around-Harry old Voldemort.
my favorite type of tomarrymort is actually Voldemort at the ripe age of 70 discovering feelings of true love compassion towards Harry and suddenly acting like a giddy teenage girl who writes about her crush with added hearts in her diary
He loved the idea of her before 7th year. But then he actually fell in love with her.
James loved the idea of Lily, but he loves the reality of Sirius.
It makes me sad that we don't know more about Hermione's parents and all of their relationships' dynamic.
I like shipping people that almost nobody ever thought of shipping together and have the potential to be really interesting.
Like Molly x Voldemort, Molly x Sirius, Ron x Voldemort, Andromeda x Bellatrix, Lucius x Hermione, Blaise x Ron and so much more đ
"Then write it yourself." I hate writing⊠If I enjoyed it and didnât dread the process, I wouldâve already written it into existence. But thereâs nothing that feels more excruciating than that.
Fleur is hotter
I hate when Sirius Black is not the most attractive man in the room. I'm sorry Remus, who? James, who? Regulus, who? Barty, who? Get out of here. It's Sirius of Troy, girl.
Everytime I see Snape posts that include Rickman's face I get the urge to cry and throw up.
"Also I think there's a slightly worrying tendency on the liberal 'left' (which is typically the majority in most fandom spaces) to shut down conversation and discussion in general, particularly if those conversations are uncomfortable. You see thought-terminating clichés frequently deployed in such spaces and I think it's just not helpful. Seeing posts from supposed leftists trying to convince people that it's morally wrong to even THINK about Harry Potter is pretty wild to me, tbh. I think that for a while now there's been much more of a focus among the left on idealism over materialism, to the point where material reality is totally ignored in favour of, essentially, trying to get everyone to think the correct thoughts. To me this just isn't a productive or intellectually responsible approach."
I have seen this tendency in every leftist space: no productivity whatsoever, just shaming people and policing their thoughts, completely hindering any reach beyond the likable.
What your opinion on all this talk of leaving the hp/marauder fandom because it directly/indirectly supports JKR? Do you have any desire to leave?
Well my opinion is that I can understand it completely if people choose to do so, but personally I have no desire to leave nor intention of leaving. I understand that it might bother individual people but I'm not asking anyone to look at this blog; in fact the reason I started to use this sideblog is so I could keep everything HP-related away from people who choose not to see it. While I think HP's cultural relevance today is such that it's impossible to avoid entirely, I do empathise with people who'd rather not see it. If someone wished to block me for continuing to blog about HP, I think that might be the healthiest option for everyone involved.
Anyway, I understand why this is happening and I think it's important to discuss. But that's the point. It's important to discuss, not stick our fingers in our ears.
I think this is a great post about it! Here are my own (long-winded) thoughts:
Personally I fundamentally disagree with the idea that we should stop reading and discussing works written by bad people. I don't believe that's a constructive or healthy way to engage with literature. If nobody's left to discuss something as culturally relevant as HP (or LotR, or whatever) critically, then what is the point of literature in the first place? Is it pure entertainment and therefore easily discarded? Ftr I'm also firmly against banning (even socially 'banning') literature of ANY sort, for ANY reason. "You shouldn't read X because it's morally wrong" is to me ultimately a conservative belief.
Anyway: I find it pretty obvious that JKR said 'if you like my books you agree with me' PURPOSEFULLY to cause this kind of a reaction, because she knew it would cause her detractors to become hyperfocused on pointing fingers at each other and thought policing each other over a kids book rather than focusing on what's actually going on. I don't think we should be playing into it, and I don't think even JKR believes it herself-- I think it was deliberate. And tbh from what I can see it has had the exact effect she intended.
The other thing I'll say is that (and tbf I can't say for sure) but I suspect that the online HP fandom might be exaggerating its own importance a little bit. Tbh I think that even if the online (and more liberal) fandom disappeared overnight there would still be tens of thousands of kids (the target audience, after all) discovering and reading Harry Potter for themselves across the globe. Scores of parents and aunts and grandparents who know nothing about JKR buying those books for the kids in their family. And that's not counting the people who actually do agree with JKR. Yes fandom disappearing might have some small impact, but tbh I think it would be all but insignificant. It would be much more, like infinitely more, materially significant for people in fandom to donate time and/or money to trans organisations in their own countries. ((I also think what would be somewhat helpful is for fandom to take responsibility in encouraging people not to watch the HBO series. The success of the series is imo more contingent on online opinion than the books.))
There are also millions of people still using twitter, instagram, and amazon, despite the very real material damage caused by Musk, Zuckerberg, and Bezos, and that's a MUCH more direct cause-and-effect than simply talking about Harry Potter because using those platforms LITERALLY lines the pockets of those individuals. I will say that if you're on twitter telling people they should stop talking about Harry Potter I simply will not take you seriously loll đ
I guess there is probably some amount of people who discovered HP through, idk, Marauders tiktok and decided to read the series, but how significant is this number? It's incredibly difficult to grow up in most countries around the world and not come across Harry Potter in some way. For good or ill I do think HP is en route to becoming a children's classic. If tumblr goes down and my blog and all the blogs I interact with on here disappear, I don't think this would change.
On the other hand, simply for posterity I do think there's some value in continuing to discuss it-- all of it, including the reality of who the author is, the cultural relevance of HP, the text itself and what this all means given its significance in our culture. And it's important to discuss it critically, honestly, and constructively. It's remarkably easy with HP to avoid giving money to the author, which is something I believe to be worthwhile, so tbh I can't bring myself to agree with 'it would be better if we stopped talking about it' in a general sense. Personally I don't think the only people left discussing it should be right wing maniacs lol-- again, for posterity if nothing else.
Also I think there's a slightly worrying tendency on the liberal 'left' (which is typically the majority in most fandom spaces) to shut down conversation and discussion in general, particularly if those conversations are uncomfortable. You see thought-terminating clichés frequently deployed in such spaces and I think it's just not helpful. Seeing posts from supposed leftists trying to convince people that it's morally wrong to even THINK about Harry Potter is pretty wild to me, tbh. I think that for a while now there's been much more of a focus among the left on idealism over materialism, to the point where material reality is totally ignored in favour of, essentially, trying to get everyone to think the correct thoughts. To me this just isn't a productive or intellectually responsible approach.
What is the material benefit of all of us simply shutting up about Harry Potter forever? How does this actually help anyone beyond yourself and your own conscience? To me it seems like ultimately a performative and virtue signalling action that is pretty meaningless when you're not doing anything else, and is particularly meaningless when you're not applying this to literally anything else in your life. Fandom isn't activism, but by extension NOT-fandom also isn't activism haha. Personally I dislike Marvel films and think they're barely-disguised propaganda for the American military-industrial complex, but I don't think it's evil for people to write their Bucky/Steve fanfiction or whatever lmao. And I certainly don't think it's wrong to discuss Marvel films, the opposite in fact, I think they should be critically discussed.
So, basically, I think it's perfectly understandable that people would want to leave the fandom. But ultimately I think that's an action you're taking for yourself, and I don't think there's much to be gained from refusing to discuss things deemed 'morally wrong.' I think to a certain extent it's natural and probably healthy to feel some guilt about it all, but also perhaps it's worth questioning why we feel such extreme guilt about this, which is really just people talking to each other about books, and not about the 486948736 other much more unambiguously destructive things we do with our time and money on a daily basis.
As long as we're willing to discuss this topic honestly and constructively, to be conscious and empathetic towards others, and to refrain from spending any money on HP-related products, I don't think it's wrong to remain in the fandom tbh. To deny HP's impact on today's literary landscape would be, imo, dishonest, so therefore somebody has to discuss it. And I'd much rather there be a variety of opinions within that discussion.