there are descriptions in prisoner of azkaban about her white/tanned face. if she was black then you should say her face turned white or say their skin is tanned would you?
plus this is the first time we've ever thought about hermione being black. so that alone would suggest she is white. i bet they've just done it to stir up shit.
there is a description in prisoner of azkaban about her "white face". sure it could mean as a result of fright but if she was black would you describe then say their face turned white? it's a bit racist is it not?
plus this is the first time we've ever thought about hermione being black. so that alone would suggest she is white. i bet they've just done it to stir up shit.
Yes.
Clearly the only good reason you'd want more diversity in your work is too rile up the fans.
This passage also exists in the book too, fwiw.
They were there, both of them, sitting outside Florean Fortescues Ice Cream Parlor Ron looking incredibly freckly, Hermione very brown, both waving frantically at him.
I don't remember her race being important to anything in the books. If they want more diversity in their casting then it isn't really an issue.
Not really buying people saying "Hey, she could have been black all along" though. I mean, she could have and it wouldn't have impacted the story but I don't believe anyone had considered that she might not be white before this.
I'm pretty sure Rand Al'thor wasn't a vaguely asian-looking, anime bishounen character in the Wheel of Time series but here we are with him looking precisely like that on a Japanese book cover.
Given that a character in the movies changed ethnicity to white just so she could date Ron and nobody batted an eye it's hard to see this as anything but that.
People are quoting book descriptions to try and prove some point. So weird.
Harry set his glasses on the granite tabletop before shuttering the tapered curtains. He let out a soft sigh as a light moan erupted from behind. Slowly turning around, a scantily clad woman of Asian descent crawled around on his luxurious office chair made of phoenix feather. Pulling away one of her thin arms, she revealed a wand: eleven inches, crafted with holly. The mystical beauty let out a sly smile, to which Harry merely greeted with chagrin.
"What's wrong my prince?" She asked softly.
Harry looked at her for several moments, contemplating whether or not to actually let her into his mind. However, the longer he stared, the more he realized that her concern only existed on a surface level; her dazed eyes seemingly stared on even when Harry moved away from her line of sight.
Without much effort, he snatched the beautifully constructed creation from the woman's grasp and flicked it twice: once to unveil a bag filled with pure white hiding under the granite, and the next to slip away from his business skin.
Taking his position behind the woman, Harry showered her with the gift of pixie dust. Before letting himself indulge, he simply stared at the painting before him. It was soulless, hopeless - just like the painter who created the work.
Without any further ado, he dove his head downwards. He let himself go like every other night for the past seven years. He just wanted to forget the present in order to have a chance at finding some of the magic he had once been enraptured with so many years ago.
Harry cupped his hands over his mouth, exhaled, and took a deep sniff. He didn't know why he bothered. His bottomless hip flask ('confiscated' by a particularly filthy herb dealer who would never remember it was even in his possession) was in constant use during the worst days of his work, and this one in particular had been a complete horror. Triple homocide, father and two children, the mother contorting their corpses into the symbol of a dark hex. That was the problem with wizards and witches. A crazy muggle may attack people, they could even kill, but even your dullest wandbearer were capable of things completely unspeakable. Hence the blood on his shoes. Hence the drink.
Ginny'll clean that, he thought dully, shoving a fistful of Bertie's beans into his mouth. He'd found out early on their cataclysm of flavours masked the smell of whisky incredibly well. Not that his wife didn't know, of course, but he had to keep up appearances. For the kids.
He didn't announce his return to his home. He found his wife reading the paper in the kitchen, the dishes being quietly cleaned by floating rags, a charm cast by his mother in law as a wedding present. Cheap bitch, he thought, throwing his coat onto the hanger. "My shoes need cleaning," he told Ginny by way of a greeting.
"I don't know why you're telling me," she replied, without looking up, "You know the spell for it."
Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration. "I've told you, I spend all fucking day casting spells, and all I want when I get to the home I paid for-"
"Hah!" She spat. "Here we go again, you think your money gives you control of this family-"
"Well it certainly doesn't give me anything worthwhile." he replied coldly. "When was the last time you performed your marital duties?"
She rolled her eyes back at him, tired of having this same conversation. "Maybe when you stop sleeping with Granger."
"Maybe I will when you tell your dipshit brother."
Argument settled for the hundredth time, they turned to see their son, Albus, standing in the doorway. "So I'll just pretend I never heard that, again," he muttered, looking between the pair. "I'm going out for the evening."
"No you aren't," Ginny started, "I've heard what you and those boys are getting up to, and-"
"I'm sure Lily would love to hear about about Aunt Hermione and Dad's fun business trips," he drawled, then pointed to his father, "and the Ministry would sure like to know about the truth about their star Auror." Met with silence, the boy didn't even smile at his victory. "I'll be back late."
He left, not acknowledging Harry's feeble wave. Ginny harrumphed in frustration, storming upstairs to write yet another howler to send anguished cries to her mother.
Harry sat, pulling the flask out of his jacket. Where did it all go so wrong? He found himself in a loveless home, sleeping with his best friend's wife, unable to go on without the comforting fuzz of intoxication at the edge of his vision. He thought back to his school days, as he always would when searching for better times. How odd it was, that he was happiest when there were men that wanted him dead. Now, there was only one person left who could say they wanted that. But the boy who lived couldn't go against his moniker.
In doing this I learned the Harry Potter wiki has a whole list of alcohols that have features in the series
Every morning, it's the same. She's the same. Half-awake, she'll ask where Harry is. Laze an arm across, feel that familiar, cold empty of the unfettered sheets beside her. Where Harry was. Always, was. Like a twitch of the newly departed, the ritual always begins with a slow dance.
Then from reality, the birth of expression, it crawls onto her face. Half-awake. It too, is a twitch. A reflex of loss, a suspect pang that is by no means sorrow nor regret, but something far more petty. It's Harry. It's the Harry expression.
I could Obliviate the Harry off her. Like I did, many times before. I learned from the best there was. Always, was. At the very least, I had to, then. For her.
For Ginny.
But it's never enough. It's never far back enough. The Harry always comes back. The Harry is deep within her, she lives for the Harry. I can't take that away from her.
Because then I'd be taking away me.
Why she's still here, I don't know. She should be awake by now, because it's time for me. He made us this way, made it so that this time is always the time for me. Always my time, never our time. So why can't she just get up and we'll leave together. Without him, for good. With me, just me.
I shove her again. I shove the Harry off her. Now she's awake, now she screams me out of the room, like she does every morning. As if I'm the personification of the Harry that I just nudged out of her. It's unfair. She yells she has to get decent, she says. But decent is us leaving the Harry behind.
Leave him behind. If only.
If only, we'd leave behind the man who had the audacity to name me Albus. Always, was.
Given that a character in the movies changed ethnicity to white just so she could date Ron and nobody batted an eye it's hard to see this as anything but that.
People are quoting book descriptions to try and prove some point. So weird.
Lavender Brown, who was played by a black actress before changing to a white actress in the Half Blooded Prince. I do believe she was never named in the film (only in the credits) and never had a line in all previous films.
Doesn't make it fine but I could sort of see their twisted reasoning for doing it.
IIRC, she was black in the books. And nobody is angry that people are surprised that the character is black. They are angry that when explained, the people start getting all uppity at the purity of the movies being lost.
It's even more clear when that's the only issue they take with the movies and books being different and not the other things changed (presumably, I have only watched the movies).
So basically, you have nothing to be fearful of if you are slightly taken aback but are whatever with it at the end of the day.
She was never explicitly black and there are descriptions that could go either way. Regardless of what race she was portrayed as in the movies and what race people inferred she was in the books; It's canon that J.K. Rowling doesn't care what race Hermione is portrayed as since her race wouldn't change anything about the character on any fundamental level.
She was never explicitly black and there are descriptions that could go either way. Regardless of what race she was portrayed as in the movies and what race people inferred she was in the books; It's canon that J.K. Rowling doesn't care what race Hermione is portrayed as since her race wouldn't change anything about the character on any fundamental level.
She was never explicitly black and there are descriptions that could go either way. Regardless of what race she was portrayed as in the movies and what race people inferred she was in the books; It's canon that J.K. Rowling doesn't care what race Hermione is portrayed as since her race wouldn't change anything about the character on any fundamental level.
The biggest thing I see from this thread is that people need more education on how casting for plays has been historically different than the source material, and very different from how movies have done it (mainly because movies haven't been around very long).
All of the nerdom that comes with "so and so is the DEFINITIVE version of the character" and "This is canon" just reeks of juvenility and lack of exposure to the history of casting.
Heaven forbid all Shakespeare is forever played by all white males, like was originally done regardless of gender or race.
It's going to be hard to get used to the new faces,thankfully it's just a play.
A part of me will die if a new movie comes out with a different cast though.
It's going to be hard to get used to the new faces,thankfully it's just a play.
A part of me will die if a new movie comes out with a different cast though.
The biggest thing I see from this thread is that people need more education on how casting for plays has been historically different than the source material, and very different from how movies have done it (mainly because movies haven't been around very long).
All of the nerdom that comes with "so and so is the DEFINITIVE version of the character" just reeks of juvenility and lack of exposure to the history of casting.
Heaven forbid all Shakespeare is forever played by all white males, like was originally done regardless of gender or race.
My dude my buddy my guy how are you going to feel when this stageplay is put on by different companies over the duration of your lifespan and each and every time it's recast it'll be different people? Stageplay "continuity" doesn't actually mean shit.
Lavender Brown. She was black until Prisoner of Azkaban and turned white when she became more prominent in the movies. Ridiculous white-washing that nobody gave a shit.
Lavender Brown. She was black until Prisoner of Azkaban and turned white when she became more prominent in the movies. Ridiculous white-washing that nobody gave a shit.
My dude my buddy my guy how are you going to feel when this stageplay is put on by different companies over the duration of your lifespan and each and every time it's recast it'll be different people? Stageplay "continuity" doesn't actually mean shit.
The biggest thing I see from this thread is that people need more education on how casting for plays has been historically different than the source material, and very different from how movies have done it (mainly because movies haven't been around very long).
All of the nerdom that comes with "so and so is the DEFINITIVE version of the character" and "This is canon" just reeks of juvenility and lack of exposure to the history of casting.
Heaven forbid all Shakespeare is forever played by all white males, like was originally done regardless of gender or race.
She has frizzy hair which is an essential physical characteristic of Hermione and that is all that matters. The play version is a more accurate depiction of Hermione than the movie versions since they only gave Emma Watson frizzy hair in the first movie and never gave her buck teeth.
End of thread, really. This whole fuss is just a bunch of movie nerds failing to appreciate a completely different medium where characters are going to be continually recast until they stop running it in theatres.
Saying that, even if this was a film, it's still a nonissue. Why is it "fans" feel so entitled? Why do characters have to match the picture you have in your head? Sometimes the best things are born out of stuff that circumvents and exceeds your expectations.
And my man, theater casting often doesn't care what they originally looked like. This is nothing new and is almost a tradition at this point. I've seen Jews depicted by black actors, whites depicted by asians, women and men depicting opposite sexes. Get over the fact that movies did it one way because that means about nothing to most theater people.
Why should they even have to look similar to the original actor? That original casting was done when they picked a 12 year old boy that they thought looked like Harry from the books and then grew up to be 5'5". Should they have to maintain his height? His eye color? His hair color?
The movie's casting was an interpretation, just like every other casting is. Asking that casting caters towards the original you grew up with is just saying "Always remind me of my own childhood, please."