Some Thoughts on J.K. Rowling and H.P. Lovecraft

J.K. Rowling

Recently I started talking with friends about legendary fantasy novelist J.K. Rowling, an activity that never ends well. Rowling’s influential novels, and the fandom unified by her essentially progressive, antiracist stories, have a massive audience that has become a cultural powerhouse. Rowling herself, unfortunately, has expressed some opinions her fan base finds reprehensible. When challenged, her response is to double down and punch back.

I cannot help comparing Rowling’s personal disintegration to another pathbreaking author whose works have outsized influence: H.P. Lovecraft. Like Rowling, Lovecraft created works that dovetail into an existing literary genre, yet push that genre’s potential into new domains. Unlike Rowling, whose expressed views are broadly progressive on almost all but one key issue, Lovecraft had offensive views about nearly everything, and documented his lousy views extensively.

Rowling’s audience rallied around her political views initially. Her opposition to classism, economic dominion, and nationalism appealed to a global audience which saw actual governing institutions in retreat. Her work was essentially optimistic, pitting Harry Potter in particular, and Hogwarts generally, against a mundane society still glum from the hangover of Thatcherism and its close cousin, Reaganomics. Her work insisted the faithful could resist the cultural tide of pessimism.

Don’t mistake me. Rowling’s works often have unexamined suppositions buried inside them, such as relying on anti-Semitic stereotypes when describing bankers. However, simply having illiberal beliefs doesn’t make someone bad; as Dr. Ibram X. Kendi writes, antiracism means acknowledging racism anywhere you see it, even in yourself. And, as I’ve written, it’s foolish to ask one high-schooler to overthrow Capitalism, even when Capitalism shows its ugliest face.

Lovecraft, by contrast, was deeply pessimistic. He detested immigrants, African Americans, country people, and the poor. (Women he could take or leave.) He feared any form of innovation, which came across in his works: his villains were frequently technicians, “foreigners,” and the unlettered masses. His writings had a succinct ear for catching audiences’ unspoken anxieties and stretching them out with beautiful anguish, but he was, by any definition, a bigot.

H.P. Lovecraft

Yet I’ve noticed a contrast. Lovecraft remains something fandom can discuss, though frequently in pained terms. Even mentioning Rowling, in certain circles, virtually guarantees feelings will run high, and opposing camps will fling harsh words. Discussion boards I frequent online have had to forbid Harry Potter fan discussions, because even mentioning Rowling brings ugly behavior out. I can’t share this essay in certain places, lest violent arguments commence.

It isn’t because of respective views. Lovecraft’s opinions were far more repellant than Rowling’s, and unlike Rowling, Lovecraft put his opinions directly into his works. Yet not only do Lovecraft’s works remain widely read, but recent writers I’ve admired, like Kij Johnson and Victor LaValle, continue working with Lofecraft’s work, attempting to tease his nightmare-like storytelling from his explicit bigotry. I’m unaware of anybody getting violent over Lovecraft fandom.

Meanwhile, Rowling’s fans have attempted to write her completely out of her own fandom. From half-joking jibes that henceforth, we agree the novels were spontaneously generated, or that Daniel Radcliffe secretly wrote the books, to outright insisting that enjoying the books and movies you’ve already purchased makes you a bad person, the call rings to blacklist Rowling as a person. Some anti-Rowling rhetoric is mean-spirited, hateful, and even violent.

Concisely put, organized fandom seems willing to work around Lovecraft’s bigotry. They don’t ignore or whitewash it; Johnson and LaValle clearly foreground that they’re explicitly challenging Lovecraft’s deeply rooted suppositions. Yet Rowling disagrees with her broadly left-leaning fanbase on one topic, and they’re willing to ostracize her from the community she created. They demand agreement in all things, or complete rejection. There can be no middle ground.

EDIT: Since I wrote this essay, Rowling has also made statements that put her in a broad camp with Holocaust deniers. Everyone has a red line, and this is mine. For all her artistic accomplishments, Rowling maybe needs to just shut up and go into personal seclusion.

Maybe it matters that Lovecraft’s work is in public domain. When somebody buys a Lovecraft collection, or remixes his works to create new art, he doesn’t draw residuals on the effort. Meanwhile Rowling gets paid every time somebody buys her books and DVDs, or her movies broadcast on cable or streaming services. But even that seems unsatisfying, since people still buy Orson Scott Card’s books—and look pained while doing so.

I return to something I’ve said previously: it’s foolish to expect great artists to be good people. Great art generally emerges from some internal anguish. From Stephen King’s substance abuse and Norman Mailer’s violent lack of impulse control, to John Lennon’s use of drugs and sex to plug emptiness deep within his soul, artists are usually troubled people. Rowling and Lovecraft are no different, and we should treat them accordingly.