LIMINALITY: A DISTINGUISHING FE.A,TURE OF YOUNG ADULT LITERATURE Malori Crossley A thesis submiued in partial fulfillment of the requirements for &e degree of MASTER OF ARTS IN ENGLISH WEBER STATE IINTVERSITY Ogden, Utah April, 18"2fr19 by Crossley 1 Malori Crossley Dr. Scott Rogers MENG 6960 15 April 2019 Liminality: A Distinguishing Feature of Beloved Young Adult Literature C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, and Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book all share a unique combination of elements. Scholars point out similar features in each of these books when they analyze them individually. Their observations center on fantasy and archetype, and highlight liminality as a facet of genre or tradition. They point to fantasy as a middle space for blending worlds, myths, and realistic characterization. Sandor Klapcsik identifies The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe as a classic example of the “portal-quest fantasy” in “The Double-Edged Nature of Neil Gaiman’s Ironical Perspectives and Liminal Fantasies” (194). In “The Magic of Harry Potter: Symbols and Heroes of Fantasy,” Sharon Black notes that Harry is “Campbell’s pattern of the child-hero” following fantasy tradition (242). Klapcsik also classifies The Graveyard Book as a “liminal fantasy,” a version of fantasy that uses the ironic mode (194). Genre is important to these narratives because they each feature magic and other unreal elements such as talking animals, mythic creatures like fauns, ghosts, and vampires, and rely on the imaginative suspension of disbelief inherent in juxtaposing two disparate but coexistent realities. In his Newberry Award acceptance speech, Gaiman described the symbolism of fantasy as “a doorway into impossibly hospitable worlds, where things [have] rules and [can] be understood; stories [can be] a way of learning about life without experiencing it . . . a way of coping with the poison of the world in a way that lets us survive it . . . those moments of connection, those places where Crossley 2 fiction saves your life” (7-8). Lewis, Rowling, and Gaiman use myth and legend to shape their narratives and plots, and all ground their narratives in fantasy specifically to allow them to deploy archetypal patterns. In using archetypal patterns, the authors play with the tropes in new or subversive ways. Scholars also note that The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, and The Graveyard Book all use the coming-of-age hero’s journey archetype, feature characters who bridge two worlds, and emphasize morality / good triumphing over evil. Both Sally Rigsbee (in “Fantasy Places and Imaginative Belief: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and The Princess and the Goblin”) and David Emerson (in “Innocence as a Super- Power: Little Girls on the Hero’s Journey”) focus on how Lucy fits the hero archetype. Rigsbee delineates how Lucy’s “archetypal journey from the realm of ordinary experience into a fantasy world” (10) represents a symbolic change in psyche, while Emerson elucidates how Lucy’s feminine strengths make her a hero in “a truly feminine version of the Hero’s Journey” (133). They focus on how her actions prove she is the hero (rather than one of her siblings) because she is the one who discovers Narnia and befriends Mr. Tumnus. Susan Rowland focuses on how the narrative is a “Christian allegory” in “Literature and the Shaman: Jung, Trauma Stories, and New Origin Stories in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis” (10). Like Black, Gail Radley agrees that Harry “exemplifies Campbell’s hero’s journey archetype” and describes the book as “a moral tale in which good [. . .] overcomes evil” in “Spiritual Quest in the Realm of Harry Potter” (20). Andrea Stojilkov expands these observations in “Life(and)death in Harry Potter: The Immortality of Love and Soul” by noting that Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone has “a plot and a message suffused with (Christian) theology [. . .] a convenient growing-up story [. . .] a patchwork of a bildungsroman and a boarding school novel, [. . .] an adventure story, a Crossley 3 detective novel, a gothic romance, and medieval legends” (134). Harry is the hero because he is the quester, and his journey is shaped by blended myths. Richard Bleiler defines The Graveyard Book as a “Gothic bildungsroman” in “Raised by the Dead: The Maturation Gothic of Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book” (277). Tsung Chi Chung defines The Graveyard Book as either “a typical coming-of-age story with some spooks thrust in for frightening effect or as a traditional ghost story with coming-of-age elements included for structure and moral effect” in “I Am Nobody: Fantasy and Identity in Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book” (9). Bod is the hero because he is alive, and he blends the world of the living and the dead as he grows. Each of these analyses point to how Lewis, Rowling, and Gaiman all deploy myth and archetype in the service of complex symbolic narratives. These symbolic narratives focus on the heroes and how they navigate the middle spaces they find themselves within. By focusing on archetype and myth in these texts, scholars have somewhat overlooked the importance of liminality. Archetype and myth obscure liminality for scholars because they see liminality as a part of the stages of the hero’s journey or as a part of the characteristic of the hero. Rather, liminality itself has characteristics and features that define it in multiple ways and forms. Rowland gets the closest to noting its importance when she observes the tales could be considered “borderland” because they are “crucially about travel between worlds and their ontological verities” (9), but she only spends a sentence on this claim. The word “liminality” stems from the Latin “limes” meaning “border” or “limen” meaning “threshold” (Neumann 473). Liminality, or the state of being in-between, is a crucial feature of all three of these coming-of-age heroes’ archetypal journeys. Liminality describes a state of being at a threshold or on both sides of a boundary. Each protagonist is uniquely characterized by their age and their duality: they are bridges between two worlds and they reveal the falsity of a two world (binary) outlook. Crossley 4 Lewis, Rowling, and Gaiman have created characters and stories that tap into the power of the liminal ritual phase, or, more simply, into the power of liminality. Applying the idea of liminality or a liminal phase to human ritual action was first developed by folklorist and ethnographer Arnold van Gennep. Victor Turner, a pioneer in symbolic anthropology, explains van Gennep’s observations of ritual pattern in Blazing the Trail: Way Marks in The Exploration of Symbols: Van Gennep examined rites of passage in many cultures, and found them to have basically a tripartite processual structure, even when they had many isolable episodes. He defined rites de passage as ‘rites which accompany every change of place, state, social position, and age.’[. . .] These rites of transition, says Van Gennep, are marked by three phases: separation; margin (or limen); and reaggregation. The first and last speak for themselves; they detach ritual subjects from their old places in society and return them, inwardly transformed and outwardly changed, to new places. A more interesting problem is provided by the middle (marginal) or liminal phase. (48-49) Van Gennep originally focused on the word “liminal” in his categorization of this tripartite structure (preliminal, liminal, and postliminal). Liminality describes and simultaneously erases a border within any binary relationship: childhood/adulthood, stranger/native, right/wrong, here/there. As Turner notes, van Gennep was primarily intrigued by the nature of liminality itself in ritual—and by extension, Turner became interested in the nature of liminality in society as a whole. Any change in social position follows these three phrases. The separation and reintegration phases were essentially identically stable: participants have firm boundaries and expectations placed on them. For example: a community member decides to run for a city office. To qualify for the position, he must be a good citizen and be involved in the community. After Crossley 5 being elected, he must still be a good citizen and be involved in the community. By contrast, the liminal phase was uniquely unstable: participants have loosened boundaries and heightened expectations placed on them. In continuing with the city office example, the liminal phase is the election period. The community member must stand out from the community, promote himself, be subject to others’ critiques, and prove over the election process that he can handle the pressures of the city office position. Participants during this stage are mobile, allowing for change, upheaval, or growth, particularly over extended periods of space-time. Change, upheaval, and growth were especially relevant features in looking at what van Gennep and Turner both termed as liminal or transitional “life-crisis” rituals—such as progressing from childhood to adulthood. Van Gennep noticed extended liminal phases “acquire a certain autonomy” (van Gennep x). The phase and its participants are set apart by distinct features, beginning with a release from the boundaries, expectations, and/or restrictions of previous states or status. It is a place of potential and experimentation—and often excess. Turner extended the idea of the liminal phase by looking also at the liminal personae, or “threshold people” in the ritual liminal phase. He noted that liminal personae are characterized by being “persons [. . .] that (1) fall in the interstices of social structure, (2) are on its margins, or (3) occupy its lowest rungs” (Ritual Process 125). Additionally, “they are ‘levelled’ and ‘stripped’ [. . .] subjected to trials and ordeals to teach them humility” (169), which “humbles and generalizes the aspirant to higher structural status” (170). As a general rule, “[a]n individual’s status is irreversibly changed, but the collective status of his subjects remains unchanged” (171). The liminal phase can describe the way that children change as they reach various cultural markers of “adulthood,” such as obtaining a driver’s license or graduating from high school. A second relevant type of liminality Crossley 6 described by van Gennep pertains specifically to crossing territories. For van Gennep, thresholds do not need to be doorways or arches to have significance; even a “simple stone, a beam, or a threshold” can serve as the neutral zone between worlds (van Gennep 19). As Klapcsik, Stoljikov, and Chung have noted, each of these stories fits a “portal-quest” fantasy, though Mendlesohn would argue that Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book is a “liminal fantasy” which “hides the threshold, suggesting that the boundaries between fantasy and reality are elusive or insignificant” (Klapcsik 195). All three stories do have a threshold between worlds that the protagonists cross and re-cross, even if the threshold is less noticeable. Van Gennep states “[i]t is the magico-religious aspect of crossing frontiers that interests us” (15), where the traveler finds herself/himself “in a special situation for a certain length of time: [s/he] wavers between two worlds” (18), and must “to cross the threshold [. . .] to unite [herself/himself] with a new world” (20). And in order to return to her/his original world, the traveler must “be able return [. . .] by passing through the arch” (21). When a stranger enters a territory, s/he is often considered “sacred, endowed with magico-religious powers” which causes s/he to be feared, taken care of, treated as a powerful being, or protected against (van Gennep 26). Strangers, interestingly, have increased freedoms or social power because they are between worlds. Therefore, the threshold itself becomes an important part of allowing the stranger to enter and return—serving as the first and third stages of the ritual process of separation and reintegration. The threshold can also acquire guardians, which indicate its significance. As van Gennep observes, “When ‘guardians of the threshold’ take on monumental proportions [. . .] a rite of spatial passage has become a rite of spiritual passage” (21-22). These guardians may serve to safeguard both ways in and out of the threshold. They may also help the stranger in her/his Crossley 7 liminal phase as s/he learns through experimentation. When the protagonists cross these thresholds, the liminal phase of their story has begun. In The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, and The Graveyard Book, elements of the territorial ritual liminal phase are present in the structure of the portal-quest fantasy; the protagonists exhibit characteristics of liminal personae, and the bulk of their stories center on a period of experimentation and maturation that also fits qualities of a “life-crisis” ritual liminal phase. As Marcello Giovanelli states, “maturation ‘saturates children’s stories and colours narratives of every kind.’ Growth may refer to the characters within the fictional world with their concerns and experiences, and [. . .] can generate moments of intense self-discovery and meta-reflection” (3). Lucy, Harry, and Bod all make important decisions and experiment with their newfound status and/or power as children of two worlds. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, and The Graveyard Book all deploy liminality because it creates high-stake opportunities for character maturation. Each of the protagonists finds heightened expectations placed upon her/him when s/he enters her/his second world, often with others’ lives hanging in the balance if s/he does not succeed. Lucy, Harry, and Bod experience intense change and growth because they need to fulfill the prophecies and save their worlds. I will examine each book by discussing territorial liminality, characteristics of liminal personae, and characteristics of the life-crisis liminal phase. I argue that liminality shapes both the narratives and characters in these three novels. Liminality is a crucial, yet overlooked feature in the scholarly analysis on these novels. It has been overlooked because society as a whole is asking new questions about binaries and if society needs them. Scholars previously have not grappled with questions about a middle space where binaries break down until it became a Crossley 8 relevant cultural question. Liminality is a uniquely mimetic feature of young adult literature, replicating adolescence where children are in a middle space between childhood and adulthood, but liminality can also be used to examine the middle spaces within any type of literature or binary relationship. Liminality in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe Territorial liminality includes two territories, a threshold, a sacred stranger, and threshold guardians. Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy are sent away from London during the Blitz to live in the country with an eccentric professor. Lucy discovers another world (Narnia) within a magical wardrobe, and leads her siblings there, where they free Narnia from oppression. Lucy’s two worlds are war-torn England and Narnia. Lucy’s threshold between England and Narnia is the magical wardrobe, which she discovers one rainy day exploring with her siblings. All her siblings see is an empty room except for a wardrobe: “‘Nothing there!’ said Peter, and they all trooped out again—all except Lucy. She stayed behind because she thought it would be [worthwhile] trying the door of the wardrobe, even though she felt almost sure it would be locked. To her surprise it opened quite easily” (Lewis 6). Just finding the threshold does not place Lucy in a liminal position. By stepping across the threshold and entering Narnia, Lucy’s role as a bridge between the two worlds begins. Lucy’s liminality results in increased curiosity and courage, feeling “a little frightened, but [. . .] very inquisitive and excited as well” as she discovers trees past the fur coats within the wardrobe (Lewis 8). After crossing the threshold, Lucy begins to make significant choices for herself that also have an influence over others’ futures. Once she discovers the wintry world of Narnia, Lucy becomes the sacred stranger. In addition to providing her with a higher social status, Lucy now needs to negotiate the pull between loyalties: Narnia and England, her new friends and her family. Her experience in Narnia Crossley 9 forces Lucy to make profound decisions about her loyalties and values that her life in England has not yet asked her make. She realizes her decisions impact others’ lives, particularly once she learns of her prophesied role to help save Narnia from oppression. She enters middle space between who she is as a child and who she can become as an adult. The Narnians treat Lucy, the sacred stranger, with both fear and great care because they believe she has special powers. The White Witch fears Lucy and her siblings so greatly that she decreed “that if ever [any Narnians] saw a Son of Adam or a Daughter of Eve in the wood, [they were] to catch them and to hand them over to her” (Lewis 20). She fears the Pevensies because of a prophecy that “when two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve sit in those four thrones [at Cair Paravel], then it will be the end not only of the White Witch’s reign but of her life” (Lewis 82). The prophecy clearly declares that Lucy’s special ability as the sacred stranger is to help overthrow and kill a tyrant. True Narnians, represented by Mr. Tumnus and the Beavers, treat Lucy with great care because they hope she will fulfill the prophecy and overthrow the White Witch. When Lucy learns of the prophecy, she decides between retreating to the safety of familiar England and the risk of trying to fulfill the prophecy to save Narnia. Lucy’s spacial liminality places her in an unusual situation that raises the stakes of her decisions. If something goes wrong, she impacts two worlds, so she must navigate carefully to pull both worlds through the crisis safely. Aslan and the Professor act as the guardians of the threshold. One exists in each world, to help and protect Lucy, the sacred stranger. The Professor’s guardianship protects Lucy while she is in England by validating her experiences in Narnia. He is the one who convinces her siblings that Lucy is telling the truth. He argues that her claim to have been gone for hours in another world is reasonable, stating, “If there really is a door in this house that leads to some other world Crossley 10 [. . .] if, I say, she had got into another world, I should not be at all surprised to find that the other world had a separate time of its own [. . .] I don’t think many girls her age would invent that idea for themselves” (Lewis 49-50). The Professor’s belief in her story stops her siblings from making fun of her, and lays the foundation for her leadership in Narnia. Aslan safeguards Lucy’s passage into Narnia by validating her place there first through prophecy, and then through his own self-sacrifice protecting Edmund. Lucy is the one who asks, “Please—Aslan, [. . .] can anything be done to save Edmund?” (Lewis 128-129), realizing that without all four children, the prophecy would not come to pass. If this became the case, her role as the sacred stranger could not be fulfilled. Lucy wants to free Narnia, her liminal role providing an opportunity to value others over herself. Because she occupies an in-between state, she can choose either to do what benefits her most or what benefits all of Narnia most. She chooses to prioritize what will help more people. Aslan replies, “All shall be done [. . .] though it may be harder than you think” (Lewis 129), promising her the chance to save Narnia from the White Witch. He safeguards her opportunity to fulfill her prophesied role by removing the most insurmountable obstacle to her success. He sacrifices his life for Edmund’s and allows the White Witch to kill him on the Stone Table. Aslan’s guardianship signifies that the time Lucy and her siblings spend in Narnia will be a spiritual passage: getting Edmund back and overthrowing the White Witch will require sacrifice and some heartbreak. Aslan’s sacrifice becomes one of the levelling experiences Lucy undergoes as liminal personae. Liminal personae come from a place of low social position and rise to a higher social position during the liminal phase. Concluding the liminal phase, liminal personae return to a social position similar to where they began. Lucy begins the story as the youngest of all her siblings, and female—both her age and her gender placing her at the bottom of social order. Crossley 11 However, as the sacred stranger in Narnia, Lucy begins to rise in importance and social power. Mr. Tumnus nearly falls over himself when he realizes that she is a Daughter of Eve, and invites her into his home for tea. The Beavers and other true Narnians also protect her from the White Witch and from fighting in the war because she is a one of the four prophesied children heralding a new era in Narnia. After defeating the White Witch, Aslan “solemnly crowned them and led them to four thrones amid deafening shouts of, ‘Long Live King Peter! Long Live Queen Susan! Long Live King Edmund! Long Live Queen Lucy!’” (Lewis 181). At the coronation, Lucy’s social position and status is completely reversed from where she began as the youngest, female child to a highly sought after Queen. She “was always gay and golden-haired, and all the princes in those parts desired her to be their Queen, and her own people called her Queen Lucy the Valiant” (Lewis 184). Lucy’s title of “the Valiant” indicates that she earned her people’s respect and honor to an equal degree as her brother kings. After a long and happy reign, Lucy and her siblings once again discover the lamppost and return through the wardrobe to England. Of course, in England, little to no time has elapsed, so Lucy once again becomes a young child with low social status and position. The ending symbolically reminds the reader that Lucy has shown her adult potential, but she has not yet reached it. The liminality of adolescence allows Lucy to thread together childhood and adulthood so childlike valiance coexists with mature realism. Liminal personae undergo the life-crisis liminal phase. Again, elements of the life-crisis liminal phase includes trials that level, strip, or humble liminal personae; exhibits potential, experimentation, and possibly excess; and a release from the boundaries, expectations, and/or restrictions of previous states or status. This is the point where the deployment of liminality in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe gains significance, rather than simply being a point of interest, because it places Lucy in special situations where she has opportunities to make Crossley 12 decisions she otherwise would not have had to make. These situations produce character growth and maturation. All the previous features have served as signifiers indicating that the life-crisis liminal phase is underway; Lucy’s two worlds tug her to learn and mature. Lucy’s trials during her transition from lowly child to high status Queen test her resolve, her courage, and her commitment to Narnia, while providing her with a place to grow and experiment. It is worth looking closely at a few of Lucy’s levelling trials, which illustrate how the life-crisis liminal phase produces growth and maturation in Lucy. A levelling trial testing Lucy’s honesty and courage occurs when her siblings refuse to believe her story about discovering Narnia. Lucy feels torn between Narnia and England as her siblings think she is “telling a lie, and a silly lie too” which makes her feel “very miserable. She could have made it up to the others quite easily at any moment if she could have brought herself to say that the whole thing was only a story made up for fun. But Lucy was a very truthful girl and she knew that she was really in the right; and she could not bring herself to say this” (Lewis 26). By deciding to stick to the truth, she increases her courage by dealing with the initial results negative results without giving in to the temptation to lie. Her relationships with her siblings suffer, and “[a]lthough she never doubts her own vision, her selfhood is damaged by the lack of faith of those she loves” (Rigsbee 11). Fortunately, her unwavering conviction earns their respect and heightened regard later when they all enter Narnia together later: “Peter turned at once to Lucy. ‘I apologize for not believing you,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. Will you shake hands?’ ‘Of course,’ said Lucy, and did” (Lewis 55). Lucy is quick to recognize the courage it takes to apologize to her—especially from her oldest brother. While she was humbled by her siblings’ disbelief, she is elevated by their trust in her. She has proven that she will be honest in any circumstance, which shows an adult strength and conviction. As a teen, Lucy is balanced Crossley 13 between adult responsibility and childlike or childish behavior. She simultaneously demonstrates childlike traits such as innocence and humility and adult characteristics of integrity and mercy. Lucy’s response to the White Witch’s capture of Mr. Tumnus demonstrates her potential to become a good ruler. Finding Mr. Tumnus’s ravaged cave with her siblings, Susan suggests that there is not a point in going on because “it doesn’t seem particularly safe here and it looks as if it won’t be much fun either” (Lewis 59). Lucy instantly responds, “Oh, but we can’t [. . .] don’t you see? We can’t just go home, not after this. It is all on my account that the poor Faun has got into this trouble. He hid me from the Witch and showed me the way back. [. . .] We simply must try to rescue him” (Lewis 59). The contrast between Susan’s somewhat selfish and childlike focus on her own safety and fun, and Lucy’s determined, compassionate responsibility shows that Lucy is growing outside herself. As Emerson explains, “The element of choice is noteworthy here. Other than a possible difficulty in finding their way back to the lamppost, there is nothing physically stopping Lucy and the others from abandoning the quest and going home [. . .] If not for Lucy’s insistence, the story would have ended right there” (139). Lucy accepts responsibility for her part in a tragedy and sets out to make it right. This means she steps out of a childlike role to take on a typically adult role. Witnessing Aslan’s death is a trial that releases Lucy from restrictions. From this experience, Lucy gains an ability to grieve and an appreciation for life. Lucy’s parents restrict her from seeing the harsher realities of life because she is a child. The reason she and her siblings are sent to the Professor’s house in the countryside is to get them out London—both to protect them physically and also to protect them from witnessing the death and destruction of war. However, in Narnia, Aslan allows Lucy and Susan to accompany him to the Stone Table. He instructs them, “[W]hatever happens, do not let yourselves be seen” (Lewis 150), but he does not Crossley 14 forbid them from staying and watching what happens next. The implicit message is that Lucy and Susan can handle the harshness and cruelty of his death. While they do not “see the actual moment of the killing” (Lewis 155), they fully experience the reality of his death. As the White Witch’s forces run by whooping and cheering, “the sadness and shame and horror of Aslan’s death filled their minds so fully that they hardly thought of” their fear (Lewis 157). For the entire night, Lucy and Susan sit with Aslan’s body, grieving. Lucy’s grief extends beyond herself to encompass all of Narnia. Grief and suffering becomes a catalyst for new maturity. In the morning, with the sunrise, hope returns for Lucy and Susan when the Stone Table cracks and Aslan reappears. Lucy has been prepared to lose some of her innocence through facing the gore and reality of battle by her night of grief. When they return to the battlefield, Lucy needs only be reminded “others are also at the point of death. Must more people die for Edmund?” to empathize with the wounded and devote her full efforts to help heal them (Lewis 179). She does not shy away from the awful wounds, but works to heal them. She looks past her own pain, grief, and worry to help the warriors heal. Her deepened experience with grief gives her an appreciation for others’ sorrows and a desire to help those people return to a full, happy life. She becomes, from grief and battle, able to deal with the harsher realities of life such as death. C.S. Lewis uses liminality to develop Lucy’s growth of character growth and maturation. The hallmarks of territorial liminality, liminal personae, and the life-crisis liminal phase mark The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Lucy gains humility, honesty, courage, compassion, responsibility, and empathy because she became the sacred stranger and took on the responsibility to save Narnia. Her liminality created the opportunity for her to make high-stakes decisions impacting an entire nation, and provided the circumstances for her own personal growth in the process. She learns to navigate in a space where innocence and experience share a Crossley 15 continuum, rather than exist as binary opposites, while still operating in a society where they are treated as binary opposites. She blurs the lines between child and adult as she becomes a leader both to her siblings and to Narnia while also retaining the innocence and valiance she originally possessed as a child. Liminality in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone Like Lucy in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Harry negotiates between the Muggle world and the Wizarding World in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. For Harry, these two worlds expose him to the extreme opposite ends on a spectrum of acceptance. In the Muggle world, Harry is neglected and unloved, but he knows the basic rules for how to successfully live in society. In the Wizarding world, Harry is admired and adored, but he knows next to nothing about the culture or society. Liminality forces him to carefully thread together the new and old ways of seeing the world to find a middle ground. It also causes him to develop the strength to follow his own inner moral compass. While Harry first enters the Wizarding world for a brief visit to Diagon Alley with Hagrid to pick up his school supplies, platform 9 ¾ is the threshold that separates the Muggle and Wizard worlds. Harry has a hard time even accessing the threshold at first. After the Dursleys drop him off, he “had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and he had no idea how to do it; he was stranded in the middle of a station with a trunk he could hardly lift, a pocket full of wizard money, and a large owl” (Rowling 91). He experiences a resurgence of doubt and worry that he is actually a wizard, and does actually belong in the Wizarding World at all. Fortunately, he receives help from Mrs. Weasley who explains about how to get onto the platform. Somewhat doubtful that he will actually be able to make it through a solid wall but taking a leap of faith, he runs with his trolley toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Crossley 16 Safe on the other side, he “looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it” (Rowling 93- 94). The large, elaborate archway to platform 9 ¾ indicates that it is a significant neutral zone merging the two worlds together. It serves as one place where both Wizards and Muggles are comfortable and familiar, and symbolically as a train station represents the beginning of a new stage or journey for Harry and those boarding a train. Like The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, guardians safeguard both sides of the threshold: Professor Dumbledore and the Sorting Hat. While a Wizard, Professor Dumbledore safeguards Harry’s place in the Muggle world until it is time to attend Hogwarts by securing him a home with the Dursleys. Dumbledore knows the Dursleys fear anything magical, and so writes an explanatory letter to ensure they will raise him and, if not love him, at least keep him physically safe. Dumbledore creates Harry’s duality out of concern for him. When Professor McGonagall protests, “Dumbledore— you can’t [leave him here] . . . You couldn’t find two people who are less like us. . . These people will never understand him! He’ll be famous—a legend — [. . .] every child in our world will know his name!”; Dumbledore firmly responds, “Exactly [. . .] It would be enough to turn any boy’s head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he doesn’t even remember! Can’t you see how much better off he’ll be growing up away from it all until he’s ready to take it?” (Rowling 13). Harry inherently receives an opportunity to grow while navigating between the two worlds. Harry’s experiences negotiating between the Muggle and Wizarding worlds will force him to make choices and decisions that he might not have needed to make if he had only stayed in Muggle world. His experience living as a Muggle allows him to fully appreciate the power of magic in the Wizarding world—and to comprehend the commonality the two worlds share. His suffering in Crossley 17 the Muggle world renders him humble, and thus able to handle his celebrity in the Wizarding world. He is less innocent and more mature in the Wizarding world because of their sharp contrast to his Muggle experience. Like Lucy’s grief, his suffering has removed some of his innocence. Also like Lucy, Harry is in a middle space where innocence and experience share a continuum, but his external society treats them as binary opposites. Through the hype of fame, he can see that human nature is the same whether it is magical or not, like when Malfoy reminds him of Dudley. In his liminality, he does not naively embrace his fame, but rather questions it. Embracing his fame would mean he saw it only as a good thing. Embracing his fame would look like he had wholehearted confidence in his own power, drawing reassurance from defeating Voldemort as a baby, rather than being humbled by it. Instead, Harry has a hard time accepting that he even is famous; he sees himself as normal and asks why he is famous for something he does not even remember doing. As the threshold guardian in the Wizarding World, the Sorting Hat verifies Harry’s place by confirming his magical abilities and potential. The Sorting Hat observes during the sorting that Harry has “[p]lenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes – and a thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting” (Rowling 121). He places Harry into Gryffindor, both substantiating his Wizarding ancestry and granting him permission to learn magic. He does not know what he needs to know to defeat Voldemort a second time, but he is aware that others expect him to be capable of defeating Voldemort. By obtaining the reassurance of his magical abilities, Harry is now free to embrace his role as the sacred stranger. The nature of the sacred and the profane has been transformed by a secular society, so Harry’s ability to bridge the divine, to be a savior or to plead society’s cause, mimics the role previous societies Crossley 18 would have assigned to the church. He takes on the challenge to prove his worth and talent with determination. As the sacred stranger, the Wizarding community at large treats Harry with great care because, as an infant, he stopped Voldemort’s rise. Wizards expect Harry to have special powers and abilities because “no one lived after [Voldemort] decided ter kill ‘em, no one except [Harry], an’ he’d killed some o’ the best witches an’ wizards of the age” (Rowling 55-56). Although Voldemort was broken by his attempt to kill Harry, the Wizarding World has lingering fear that he will return. They see Harry as their bright hope. After his visit to Diagon Alley with Hagrid, Harry confesses his confusion: “Everyone thinks I’m special [. . .] All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander [. . .] but I don’t know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I’m famous and I can’t even remember what I’m famous for. I don’t know what happened when [. . .] my parents died” (Rowling 86). Harry feels a gap between who he is—a Muggle, and who he is expected to become—a talented and powerful wizard. Liminality provides the opportunity for Harry to choose to take up the fight against Voldemort. While he experiences fear, doubt, and loneliness, he chooses endure to the trials that will transform him into that predicted wizard. These darker emotions prepare Harry to accept the challenge of living up to his prophecy willingly, just like Lucy. The feelings of fear, doubt, and loneliness remind him what is at stake. If he fails, his parents’ sacrifice will be in vain, and his new world will be lost to Voldemort’s oppression once more. He feels a responsibility to keep Voldemort from returning to power despite not knowing any magic yet. Harry does not feel special or important, so he seeks confirmation to prove that he can live up to what others expect of him. It becomes his quest to find out if he can be what the Wizarding world already thinks he is. Crossley 19 Although the Wizarding community mostly welcomes Harry, some such as Draco Malfoy and Professor Snape dislike him. Malfoy initially seeks to gain Harry as a friend because he wants to be aligned with power and Harry’s status as the sacred stranger would grant him greatly elevated status in the eyes of the other students. When Harry rebuffs his offer, saying, “I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks,” Malfoy responds with threats: “I’d be careful if I were you, Potter. [. . .] Unless you’re a bit politer, you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them either” (Rowling 109). Throughout the rest of the school year, Malfoy does his best to get Harry expelled and follow through on his threat to eliminate Harry. Professor Snape also treats Harry as though he needs to be eliminated: “At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had gotten the idea that Professor Snape didn’t like him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he’d been wrong. Snape didn’t just dislike Harry—he hated him” (Rowling 136). As a consequence, Snape asks Harry questions he knows he will not be able to answer and then deducts points from Gryffindor. Snape also gives him detention and looks for reasons to argue that Harry should be expelled. Though a child, he does not allow Snape to intimidate or bully him into submission. Snape, as the adult, reacts to Harry, a child with less than a year’s experience and knowledge in magic, as if he were an adult adversary. For most of the book, Harry believes Quirrell’s attempts to kill Harry are Snape’s attempts to kill him, and he believes Snape is Voldemort’s ally. Therefore, Harry sees Snape’s actions as a reflection of the fear that Harry has the potential to prevent Voldemort’s return. As the sacred stranger, Harry fits the description of liminal personae. He begins as an orphan, a student, and of a mixed Wizarding parentage. These characteristics place him on the margins of social power. In his aunt and uncle’s home, Harry has practically no power or respect. Evelyn M. Perry explains in “Metaphor and MetaFantasy: Questing for Literary Inheritance in J. Crossley 20 K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone,” “[t]he Dursleys perceive Harry as a potential embarrassment. He is told that his parents were killed in a car accident, he is made to sleep with the spiders in a cupboard under the stairs, he is never shown any photographs of his parents, and he is kept ignorant of the magic world and his possible place in it” (247). He is neglected and subjected to hypersensitive punishment for anything remotely unusual. As a wizard coming from a Muggle background, Malfoy’s comments in Madam Malkin’s shop bother Harry because “he said that people from Muggle families shouldn’t even be allowed in” (Rowling 79). He worries that he will be expelled for his lack of Wizarding knowledge and experience. However, once he is a student at Hogwarts, Harry discovers he has just as much to learn about magic as everybody else: “even people like Ron didn’t have much of a head start” (Rowling 135). As just another first year student, Harry has low social position, power, and knowledge. The only attribute that truly sets Harry apart from his peers once he is in school is his liminality. His liminality provides opportunities to gain confidence and experience success from his own decisions. Liminality is a way for him to achieve experience in the middle space between innocence and experience. Harry experiences an almost overnight elevation from low to high status by going from being unwanted to almost universally adored, from unknown to famous. When Hagrid takes Harry to the Leaky Cauldron to buy his school books, the entire pub “had suddenly gone completely still and silent. ‘Bless my soul,’ whispered the old bartender, ‘Harry Potter . . . what an honor’” (Rowling 69). When he steps forward at Hogwarts to be sorted, “whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall. [. . .] The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him” (Rowling 121). The jarring transition between anonymity and celebrity causes Harry to desire to earn Crossley 21 respect through his own actions and decisions. Perry notes, “Harry learns belatedly of his pre-existing fame and heroism, but he also learns how to grow into what he is” (248). He is troubled by that he does not know how he defeated Voldemort in the first place, but he wants to live up to the expectations others express about him. This desire drives many of his decisions while at Hogwarts, urging him to stand up for others and to experiment with his own freedom. As Harry undergoes the life-crisis liminal phase, he develops his natural abilities, fosters meaningful relationships, and strengthens his heroism. Like Lucy, Harry’s liminality positions him to confront situations and make choices he might not otherwise have needed to make. He is constantly trying to make the choices that will help him prevent Voldemort’s return while also finding social and academic success at school. These two motivations sometimes lead him to make decisions his teachers or peers see as wrong for the right reason. Harry tries to be successful in the Wizarding world by following the rules, and also by breaking the rules. He picks a middle path between following the letter of the rule and the spirit of the rule, stepping to one side or the other when he feels the situation calls for it. Harry’s experiments with rule-breaking results in levelling trials that free him from previous restrictions. At school, Harry is completely responsible for himself. He learns through experimentation what he can get away with, somewhat excessively disregarding school rules at times. Most of the time, Harry has an altruistic motive for breaking school rules: defending Neville from Malfoy’s bullying, saving Hermione from the troll, helping Hagrid send away Norbert the dragon, and trying to stop Voldemort from getting the Sorcerer’s Stone. The consequences for his rule breaking range from positive to negative consequences. Harry’s decisions blend attempts to make adult decisions considering wider outcomes and also childlike, emotional reactions. He is genuinely motivated by doing good, which keeps him moving forward Crossley 22 when the negative consequences temporarily dampen his perspective. Harry’s liminality often places him between picking his way between being told what to do and taking charge of his own actions. Harry flips back and forth between child and adult, gradually becoming more mature through the process. While no one makes decisions in a vacuum, Harry’s place between worlds situates him in a place of heightened scrutiny where his decisions directly and apparently affect others. When he makes a decision, he fully experiences what others think of him based on that action. He then, experience by experience, evaluates whether it was a good decision or if he just reacted rashly. This feedback helps him navigate both the middle space he embodies and the external society he operates within. The first time Harry experiments with breaking school rules is in fact in defense of a fellow Gryffindor. On the day of their first flying lesson, Neville Longbottom inadvertently falls off his broom and breaks his wrist. Madam Hooch escorts him away, calling over her shoulder, “None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch’” (Rowling 147). Despite the threat of expulsion, Harry responds to Malfoy’s taunt in order to save Neville’s Remembrall. Harry makes a fifty foot dive to catch the Remembrall right in front of Professor McGonagall, who he is convinced will follow through with Madam Hooch’s consequence: “He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. [. . .] He hadn’t even lasted two weeks” (Rowling 150). However, his defense of Neville happily results in a coveted place as Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, earning the admiration of his House. As Radley points out, this experience shows Harry’s “chivalry—and his worthiness to walk the Hero's path” (Radley 20). Harry’s unselfish actions protect his friendships and increase his courage. He receives validation for doing what he thinks is right, not necessarily for following school rules. Harry’s positive Crossley 23 consequence the first time he breaks a school rule may explain why he decides to follow his own internal moral code of conduct rather than strictly adhere to keeping all the school rules. Again, Harry’s social liminality allows him to see other options to follow a broader concept of right and wrong. Following school rules should be right and breaking them wrong, but Harry’s inner compass, shaped by his experiences in both worlds, leads him to break the school rules to uphold what he considers to be a more universal right: freedom from oppression of any kind. By breaking Madam Hooch’s command, Harry shows an ability to see even small schoolyard issues as part of the context of bigger political realities. His experience being both bullied and able to protect others gives him compassion for those who are oppressed or cannot defend themselves, and he takes action to protect them. Trying to help Hagrid send Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback to Charlie Weasley proves to be a levelling trial for Harry. He is caught out of bed with Hermione after dropping off Norbert in the highest tower at midnight by Filch. They are taken to Professor McGonagall with Neville and Malfoy who are also out of bed. She gives all four first year students out of bed that night the same exact consequence: fifty points from their House and a detention. While it was crucial to get rid of Norbert so that Hagrid will not be arrested, Harry cannot help but feel the sting of losing those points with Hermione and Neville: A hundred and fifty points lost [. . .] In one night, they’d ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the House Cup [. . .] And then the story started to spread: Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter, the hero of two Quidditch matches, had lost them all those points, him and a couple other stupid first years. From being one of the most popular and admired people at the school, Harry was suddenly the most hated. (Rowling 244) Crossley 24 Harry’s fall from grace and popularity humbles him. He “is not given preferential treatment, nor is he protected from the unfairness and cruelty that sometimes takes place at Hogwarts” (Perry 252). In fact, he receives a greater brunt of the hatred and disdain than Hermione or Neville because of his fame. This trial strengthens his loyalty to his true friends, his dedication to his school work, and ability to own up for his actions. He does not try to wiggle out of the consequences given to him, fully accepting his culpability and doing his absolute best to make amends to his fellow Gryffindors. He works to avoid losing Gryffindor any more points until he serves his detention. While Harry shows glimpses of maturity and adult perspective, he is also still a child. This trial illustrates how in liminality Harry still exhibits some childlike tendencies. He still wants to impress his friends and his new community, which shows how much he cares about them. He accepts correction like a child, and deals with the fallout following his failure like an adult. His liminality positions him to experience this drastic fall from grace under the scrutiny of the entire school, rather than only within his House like Hermione and Neville. This shows that his middle space, his liminality, connects him to society as a whole. He still has to work within his society even though he does not nicely fit inside its categories. In addition to being a levelling trial, being caught out of bed after hours at Hogwarts releases Harry from previous expectations from his peers. No one wants to talk to him, let alone expect him to make up the points he lost in the House Cup competition. When he learns why the unicorns in the Forbidden Forest have been targeted and killed, he realizes that he needs to act to prevent Voldemort’s return and protect the Wizarding World. Suddenly, being expelled or losing the House Cup does not hold the same fear that it once did. Despite Hermione and Ron’s Crossley 25 protests, Harry proactively takes on the role of rescuer in order to prevent others from experiencing what he has experienced: “SO WHAT?” Harry shouted. “Don’t you understand? If Snape gets ahold of the Stone, Voldemort’s coming back! Haven’t you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won’t be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He’ll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn’t matter anymore, can’t you see? D’you think he’ll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the House Cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I’ll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there, it’s only dying a bit later than I would have, because I’m never going over to the Dark Side! I’m going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you two say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?” (270). Facing death reminds Harry of the larger perspective on priorities (such as what becomes important in a life or death situation), and pushes him out of smaller concerns (such as what his classmates think of him). His emotional liminality provides him the ability to see the impact of Voldemort’s return with clear understanding, and it pushes him to make a stand. Harry fully realizes the long-term consequences for allowing Voldemort to return to power, and begins looking at the consequences of his decisions from a life or death perspective. He is no longer worried about disappointing his classmates; he is worried about the return of war, oppression, terror, and carnage. He is prepared to die to protect others and their freedom. His release from school- and peer-centered concerns allows him to focus on consequences that would accompany Voldemort’s return, which also convinces Ron and Hermione to support him in his attempt to stop Voldemort’s bid to power. Like Lucy, facing the harsh reality of death prepares Harry to Crossley 26 take action. Harry is willing to do whatever it takes to prevent Voldemort’s return, including kill Voldemort or die himself. Harry experiences a liminal release from his restrictions as a student in order to become a warrior. Together, they enter the trapdoor. Harry trusts and relies on his friends to help him navigate past the Devil’s Snare, giant Wizard chess set, and the poison logic puzzle, but only Harry ends up facing Professor Quirrell and Lord Voldemort with the Mirror of Erised. While the Mirror of Erised had previously been a temptation for Harry to dwell on dreams of having a loving family, Harry exhibits selfless heroism as he thinks “What I want more than anything else in the world at this moment [. . .] is to find the Stone before Quirrell does” (Rowling 291). Perry observes, “True to his inherent nobility [. . .] Harry must experience the moment of his own self-actualization alone, when he faces and defeats Lord Voldemort [. . .] who threatens all that is [g]ood in both the magic and the Muggle world” (255). Harry recognizes that the outcome of this battle with Voldemort will impact both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. He wants to do whatever he can to protect them both, even if it means he must sacrifice himself. He proves to himself and once again the Wizarding World that he has the ability to defeat Voldemort. While he is still only a child, with one year of magical training, he has enough ability to stop the most powerful Dark wizard of all time. Harry’s liminal nature provides him the opportunity to maintain the overall status quo by temporarily taking on an adult role of rescuer. Harry’s triumph over Voldemort helps him mature through experience. While Hermione is outraged that Dumbledore encouraged Harry’s sneaking out by sending him the Invisibility Cloak, Harry thoughtfully concludes, “I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. [. . .] I think he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he taught us just enough to help. [. . .] It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could . . .” Crossley 27 (Rowling 302). Harry realizes that without the ability to experiment, break rules, or be humbled by his experiences, he would never have learned if he had the capability for accomplishing the task the Wizarding World expects of him. Even if his final exploits had not won Gryffindor the House Cup, Harry would have left Hogwarts changed; he gained through the year’s experiences hard-won self-confidence. As Radley expresses, Harry “returns [to the Muggle world] with knowledge of his true worth and with the realization that he has, for a time, benefited all by staving off evil” (Radley 23)—despite being reluctantly picked up from King’s Cross station by Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley. Liminality in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone creates opportunities for Harry to develop heroism, selflessness, friendship, self-confidence, and courage as he quests to become a talented and powerful wizard capable of defeating Voldemort. The features of liminality mark Harry’s story. He belongs to two worlds, crosses a threshold, and guided by two guardians. He bridges the Muggle and Wizarding worlds, which helps him to establish the values on his own inner compass. He uses the dark emotions of doubt, fear, and sorrow as the impetus to defend freedom and life for both his worlds over his own personal, smaller concerns. Through the catalyst of experimentation and trials, Harry comes to believe that he can live up to the expectations placed upon him. He uses the contrast between his anonymity and his celebrity to see with an adult perspective, while still being motivated by childlike needs such as impressing his friends and classmates. Harry occupies a middle space between the role of child and adult as he negotiates his fluctuating social status and power. His liminality places him into extraordinary circumstances he otherwise would not have had to navigate, including defending those under oppression, handling the pressure of public opinions and expectations, and again defeating Crossley 28 Voldemort. This is important because he exists in a space which the rest of his society does not accommodate or account for, but he uses it to find success within his society. Liminality in The Graveyard Book Liminality in The Graveyard Book starts with the world of the living and the world of the dead. Nobody (Bod) Owens is a living boy, adopted by ghosts after the Man Jack kills his family. The cemetery gate separates the land of the living and of the dead for Bod. He first crosses through the gate as a toddler into the safety of the graveyard, but his arrival sends everyone into upheaval. While Mrs. Owens promises his recently dead mother that she will take care of him, the rest of the graveyard is not so sure that Bod should be allowed to stay. He is, after all, a living boy, not a dead and buried one like the other residents of the graveyard. Fortunately, like Lucy and Harry, Bod also has guardians of the threshold who provide safe passage to him. The Lady of the Grey and Silas both act as threshold guardians for Bod, one protecting the land of the dead and one protecting the land of the living. The Lady of the Grey affirms Bod’s right to reside in the graveyard. She arrives to settle the dispute among the graveyard occupants of whether or not Bod should be granted the Freedom of the Graveyard, declaring, “The dead should have charity” (Gaiman 30). Because of this declaration, the residents of the graveyard immediately grant Bod the Freedom of the Graveyard and take him in as one of their own. The Lady of the Grey protects Bod by sanctioning him to live among the dead until he is able to return to the land of the living. Silas acts as the threshold guardian for the land of the living. He keeps Bod alive by bringing him food every day. Silas also takes on the task of learning why the Man Jack wanted to kill Bod in order to protect him. He explains his role more fully to Bod when it is time for Bod to Crossley 29 leave the graveyard, saying, “I was your guardian. But you are old enough to guard yourself. I have other things to protect. [. . .] And, mostly, [I] guard the borderlands. [I] protect the borders of things” (Gaiman 302-3). Silas specializes in liminality because he is undead, which makes him the perfect guardian for Bod who is a liminal personae. Silas shares the space between the living world and the dead world with Bod. Because he shares the same position, he mentors Bod, and teaches him about the things the Owenses do not and cannot know. This is significant because it shows how liminality unifies Bod with Silas. Bod’s liminality makes him an equal, if less experienced, partner with Silas, implying that he has the capacity to negotiate between his two worlds as effectively as an adult. Bod fits the criteria for liminal personae because he occupies a low social status and he is also regarded as a sacred stranger. Bod, out of the three protagonists, is the most on the borders. Bod is an orphan, a child, and alive with a largely dead society, which places him on the margins of both the living and the dead worlds. He is also between the present and the past, and at times is even between tangibility and intangibility, and visibility and invisibility thanks to the Freedom of the Graveyard which gives him the ability to walk through walls and tombs, and hides him from living visitors to the graveyard. In the graveyard, Bod is welcomed and treated with great care by an entire community watching out for his well-being, but no matter how welcome they make him, he is still living while they are dead. In the living world, Bod is living just like everyone else, but must Fade and blend in with his surroundings because he is in great danger there. His social liminality creates unusual situations where he learns to interact with people and ghosts from all walks of life. In both worlds, he simultaneously belongs and does not belong, and so must figure out the appropriate behavior for each scenario by context. This is important because it points to how Bod lives in a middle space. Crossley 30 As the sacred stranger, Bod is in danger out in the living world. The Man Jack tries to kill Bod as a toddler to protect his organization. The Man Jack organization wants to eliminate him because of a prophecy made “that one day, there would be a child born who would walk the borderland between the living and the dead. And if that child grew to adulthood it would mean the end of our order and all we stand for” (Gaiman 271). The Man Jack organization believes that if they can kill Bod, they will be able to stand in power for another five thousand years. They are working to protect themselves against him. Bod slowly finds out about this prophecy over time, gradually developing the ability to withstand the Man Jack’s attack and bring down the Man Jack organization. Bod’s liminality provides him protection because he can disappear and blur between states, surprising the Man Jacks by his ability to flip between childlike pranks and adult calculation as he leads four of them to their deaths in order to protect himself and the living world from their nefarious plans. After their defeat, and once he has reached adulthood, Bod is once more returned to the living world an orphan, leaving the graveyard once the Freedom of the Graveyard fades. This is important because he returns to his original state, just like Lucy and Harry. Bod fully enters his life-crisis liminal phase when Silas releases him from previous restrictions by allowing him to attend school. He has spent most of his life in the safe world of the dead despite being a living boy. Up until this point, he did not know the danger that he was in as a toddler. When Silas tries to explain that he could die like the rest of his family, death does not hold much fear for him: Bod shrugged. “So?” he said. “It’s only death. I mean, all of my best friends are dead.” “Yes.” Silas hesitated. “They are. And they are, for the most part, done with the world. You are not. You’re alive, Bod. That means you have infinite potential. You can Crossley 31 do anything, make anything, dream anything. If you change the world, the world will change. Potential. Once you’re dead, it’s gone. Over. You’ve made what you’ve made, dreamed your dream, written your name. You may be buried here, you may even walk. But that potential is finished” (Gaiman 179). Silas tries to teach the importance of his own potential, and the importance of living. He wants Bod to recognize that he also belongs to the living world, not just the dead. He does not initially think Bod understands that he can use his potential to change the world. However, Bod has considered how important it is to live and how he needs to take risks in order to live. While his first reaction is somewhat flippant and childish, his response to Silas’s potential speech reveals that he has a more adult self-confidence and courage required to make difficult choices: Bod said, “The person who hurt my family. The one who wants to kill me. You are certain that he’s still out there?” It was something he’d been thinking about for a while now, and he knew what he wanted [. . .] “Yes. He’s still out there.” “Then,” said Bod, and said the unsayable, “I want to go to school [. . .] I’ve learned a lot in this graveyard [. . .] But there’s a world out there [. . .] it’s filled with lots of things I don’t know [. . .] I need more. If I’m going to survive out there, one day.” (Gaiman 180) Bod’s mature request shows that he knows he belongs to both worlds, and he knows that he still has something to learn from being pulled between them. His intellectual liminal state will prepare him for the future if he takes advantage of what both worlds can teach him. He is smart enough to understand that he needs to learn about living in a way that the graveyard cannot provide, and deliberately seeks out the knowledge he needs. Bod understands there is risk Crossley 32 involved in potential. Anything could happen—including failure, danger, and disaster right alongside success, safety, and security. Because he acknowledges the possible risk along with the possible reward, Silas reluctantly lifts the restrictions he had previously placed around Bod that required him to stay inside the graveyard at all times, and allows Bod to leave the graveyard to attend school. Leaving the graveyard allows Bod control over his own actions. He demonstrates through his argument to Silas that he can think like an adult, even if he is not scared by the thought of dying. He knows that he belongs to in both worlds and that he will not be allowed to stay in the graveyard forever. Unlike Silas, Bod’s Freedom of the Graveyard will only last until he is old enough to take care of himself, so his liminality provides the opportunity to gain experience in both worlds while he can still retreat to the safety of the graveyard. His choice is significant because his liminality motivates him to take proactive steps to prepare for the future rather than allow fear to keep him tied to only one world. As Bod straddles the two worlds of school and the graveyard, he begins to experiment with his beliefs and with his developing abilities. The living world, away from his guardians and family, opens up a greater opportunity for Bod to make his own decisions and mistakes. Bod has a strong sense of social justice and cannot help stepping in when he sees two bullies taking advantage of younger children despite Silas’s warning to “keep a low profile” (Gaiman 193). He draws the ire of Mo and Nick when he teaches Paul Singh and the other eleven-year-olds how to escape the blackmail snare the two had set up. Mo and Nick trail Bod on his way back to the graveyard, intent on teaching him a lesson. Bod reacts to the bullies with perfect self-assurance and self-confidence: “I quite like lessons [. . .] If you paid more attention to yours, you wouldn’t have to blackmail younger kids for pocket money” (Gaiman 187). His reaction illustrates how capable and clear-sighted he is; he does not question what is just or moral here. Bod’s position Crossley 33 between the past and the present provides him the perspective to recognize the childishness of their behavior, and motivates him to do something about it. He recognizes the pitfalls of blaming someone else for personal failure and is able to return responsibility back to the bullies without equivocation or victimization. When his calm response only serves to madden the bullies, Bod warns, “You’re missing the point, I’m afraid. You two need to stop this. Stop behaving like other people don’t matter. Stop hurting people” (Gaiman 187). When Mo and Nick refuse to stop like he requests and try to hit him, Bod uses his graveyard skills to handle the situation the best way he can: first by Fading, then striking the bullies with Fear. Like Harry, Bod still has some childlike tendencies. He desired to address a bigger social issue, but only has his child’s experience to draw on. He uses his graveyard skills to avoid getting hurt, but it does not help defuse the situation. Instead, it escalates the problem, which turns it into a levelling trial. Bod faces a levelling trial when he disappoints Silas. He turns to Silas to help him solve his conundrum at school with Mo and Nick. He anticipates that Silas will help him figure out what to do to remain at school, but Silas is far from pleased: “I cannot believe,” said Silas, “that you could have been so . . . so stupid. Everything I told you about remaining on this side of invisibility. And now you’ve become the talk of the school?” [. . .] “What should I do?’, [Bod] said, simply. “Don’t go back,” said Silas. “This school business was an experiment. Let us acknowledge that it was not a successful one.” [. . .] “I’m not running away. Not from Mo or Nick or school. I’d leave here first.” “You will do as you’re told, boy,” said Silas, a knot of velvet anger in the darkness. Crossley 34 “Or what?” said Bod, his cheeks burning. “What would you do to keep me here? Kill me?” And he turned on his heel and began to walk down the path that led to the gates and out of the graveyard. (Gaiman 193-194) Bod has become more independent, self-confident, and assertive than he was prior to attending school. He has begun to value his own independence and the chance to make more of his own choices, and he grieves the loss of his independence once more. He also mourns disappointing Silas. His grief opens him up to accept criticism from Liza Hempstock, the witch from the graveyard. She finds him running away, and forces him to start coming to terms with his own mistake by saying, “Are you running away, then? [. . .] That’s the difference between the living and the dead, ennit? [. . .] The dead dun’t disappoint you. [. . .] The living, they always disappoint you, dun’t they? You meet a boy who’s all brave and noble, and he grows up to run away” (Gaiman 198). Bod hates the idea of disappointing the people who love him. He knows that Silas wants to keep him alive, and realizes that he is still not prepared to return to the living world alone. His grief over the situation prepares him for making harder, realistic decisions. He makes the decision to return to the graveyard and apologize to Silas, recognizing that he needs to sacrifice some of what he wants in order to do what is best for himself and his worlds. Bod’s liminality helps him see that he cannot always have what he wants if he truly wants to do what is best for others. Like both Lucy and Harry, structural features mark liminality within Bod’s story. He navigates the world of the living and the dead, crosses the threshold cemetery gate between them, and has two guardians who guide him. He is positioned in unusual situations causing him to make decisions he would not have to make in only one world. Ultimately, liminality prepares Bod for smart, adult decision-making. He recognizes that making the right choice does not Crossley 35 guarantee that life will be easy. Bod’s liminality helps him walk the line between invisibility and visibility, but does not keep him from making mistakes. He learns through his experiences self-confidence, courage, patience, and sacrifice as he develops the skills necessary to defeat and overcome the Man Jack. Conclusions Lewis, Rowling, and Gaiman incorporate elements of territorial liminality, liminal personae, and the life-crisis liminal phase in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, and The Graveyard Book to create unusual situations causing the protagonists to make decisions they otherwise would not have had to make. These special situations replicate adolescence. Lucy discovers Narnia, befriends Mr. Tumnus, and learns of the White Witch’s oppression. Lucy accepts the responsibility to save Mr. Tumnus because she sees her role in his capture. Once she decides to save Mr. Tumnus, her decision expands to include all of Narnia because Mr. Tumnus has been captured by the White Witch, who holds all of Narnia under oppression. She never would have been positioned to save Narnia if she had stayed in England. Harry learns that he is a wizard, famous, and expected to do great things. Throughout the school year, he defends his friends, suffers a fall from grace under the scrutiny of the entire school, and prepares to face Voldemort again. Harry is able to prevent Voldemort’s return again because he sees the situation as life or death, and takes the threat seriously. He never would have been able to prevent Voldemort’s return if he had stayed in the Muggle world. Bod is orphaned as a toddler and adopted by a ghosts in a graveyard. He learns skills from the graveyard and attends school in the living world, which gives him experience dealing with bullies and disappointing Silas. He learns of the Man Jack and the danger he faces in the Crossley 36 living world. He eventually defeats the Man Jack using his combined experiences. If he had not grown up in the graveyard, he never would have had the opportunity to develop the skills necessary to defeat the Man Jack. In the symbolic language of narrative, Lucy, Harry, and Bod experience adolescence as they straddle two worlds and engage in making unusual decisions. Lucy, Harry, and Bod all develop naturally in their stories: [They are] very human adolescent protagonists, flawed but basically moral children who face situations similar to those that the readers face – school and school vacations, bullies, adults who do not or will not listen, powerlessness, friendships, siblings. . . . the stories certainly are filled with action, suspense, and danger, but the protagonists' choices are always ultimately more significant than what happens to them. And these choices are similar in scope, though more dramatic than, the choices made by the juvenile audience, who must choose friends and choose wisely, must learn to adapt to new and changing environments, must develop problem-solving and critical thinking skills necessary not only for academic situations, but also for adult life. (Fife 149) Their trials mirror the real life process of growing up. Each of the protagonists gains experience as s/he progress through her/his liminal phases. Lucy’s liminality replicates the process adolescents navigate as they learn to consider others’ needs over their own. At first, Lucy is concerned with herself, making sure she is able to leave Narnia safely and only visiting Mr. Tumnus to find if her friend is safe. When she returns with her siblings, though, she knows that he has been captured because he kept her safe. Lucy’s love for Mr. Tumnus drives her maturation to prioritize his needs over her own. By seeking to Crossley 37 save Mr. Tumnus and other Narnians, Lucy steps away from being a selfish child and forward toward becoming a responsible adult. Harry’s liminality replicates how adolescents determine their personal values as they become adults. Harry uses his experiences in both the Muggle and the Wizarding worlds to determine his actions. Decision by decision, Harry develops the capacity to see past the rules and take action based on his understanding of bigger political realities. Bod’s liminality replicates the struggle adolescents face as they strive to become more independent while also respecting their parents’ wishes. Silas reluctantly allows Bod to leave the graveyard, and Bod starts to make mistakes and decisions without Silas’s guidance. He knows that he has made a mistake, and tries to seek Silas’s guidance on how to deal with it. Silas’s response is to temporarily treat Bod like he was a thoughtless child, which forces them to communicate and reconcile with one another. Bod develops greater respect for his guardian’s concerns, while also learning how to defend his own actions. Lucy, Harry, and Bod are all shaped by the two worlds tugging them forward to deal with difficult trials, develop inner strength, and live up to their potential. These trials provide opportunities for character growth and maturation, producing characteristics like self-confidence, courage, a sense of responsibility to others, and an ability to see through an adult perspective. Scholars of young adult literature may need to look at the ways in which the binaries of society are broken down in young adult literature, and examine how liminality is reflective of current social questions. Lucy, Harry, and Bod all occupy a middle space between two worlds, but the two worlds could easily reflect the male/female binary, and the middle space could reflect the trans/queer space in between. Their stories reflect the ways in which liminality allows us to question the binaries, and additionally examine how liminal space complicates the binary Crossley 38 systems in place in society, while still allowing the form and order of the binary to remain until a better solution can be reached. Liminality is present in much more than young adult literature, but it is especially important in young adult literature where it reflects a stage of life where binaries naturally break, allowing for new ideas and identities to develop. Crossley 39 Works Cited Black, Sharon. “The Magic of Harry Potter: Symbols and Heroes of Fantasy.” Children’s Literature in Education, vol. 34, no. 3, Human Sciences P, Sept. 2003. 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