Why Dobby Is My Favorite
HE WAS A FREE HOUSE ELF
Harry Potter and the Cursed Child comes out in a few weeks and
it has got me thinking about this, my favorite fantasy book
series. I’ve read through it five times, which isn’t that
great a number except for the fact I didn’t read a page until
June of 2014. My now wife (then girlfriend) told me she was
like Hermione Granger and not knowing who that was, I wanted
to find out.
As much as anything I love the characters. I care about them.
I wish they all were real people (and half giants, and house
elves, etc.) And as much as I see myself in Harry, as much as
I want to hang out with the Weasley twins, as much as I wish I
could ask Snape about a million questions about his life,
there is one character that I love the most. He may not be the
best or the most important, but he’s my favorite. I love me
some Dobby.
What’s crazy is that after the first two-thirds of The Chamber
of Secrets, the first book in which Dobby appears, I could not
stand him. He annoyed me so much it was like a three horse
race with him and Lockhart and Draco for whom I wanted to
punch the hardest (all of which were eventually eclipsed by
Dolores Umbridge). Perhaps the real life magic Rowling was
able to do involved getting us to change our minds about
characters as we learned more about them. By the end of
Dobby’s filled-with-purpose life halfway through The Deathly
Hallows, I knew he was special. After several readings, I knew
he was my favorite.
There are several reasons. Some of these could be said about
any house elf, but not all. And even then, there is no doubt
that Dobby is the most important of his species in J.K.
Rowling’s fantasy world.
“BLESSED ARE THE POOR IN SPIRIT”
First, I love that Dobby was so humble and meek. There is no
human characteristic that I adore and that I am attracted to
more than this. It’s what I love most about my wife and my
parents. And while I have no idea to what extent Rowling wrote
the Christian faith into character development, I have no
doubt Dobby is in some ways to be emulated by followers of
Christ in his attitude towards others.
I love that Dobby was so humble and meek. There is no
human characteristic that I adore and that I am attracted to
more than this. It’s what I love most about my wife and my
parents.
This is, of course, not to say he was always a doormat or
passive. When he defends Harry by attacking Lucius Malfoy at
the end of the second book, he shows he can be tough when it
comes to the things he loves and the things that matter. That
is special. And I love it that the house elves had their “own
brand of special magic” that they did not abuse but was
powerful enough to overcome limitations even possessed by the
most adroit human wizards.
When I think of Dobby, more than anything I think of how poor
in spirit he was. I want to cry and laugh at the same time
when I think of him turning down 10 galleons a week and
weekends off to accept one galleon a week and one day off a
month. Or when I think of how sincerely overjoyed he was when
Harry gave him a pair of socks for Christmas, even though
Harry clearly was doing it out of guilt. Or the image of him
in 27 pair of socks, scarves and hats made by Hermione since
no one else would wear them. If Harry Potter were real, I
think I’d spend a lot of time in the kitchen at Hogwarts, and
spend a ton of time with Dobby.
FREE TO DO WHATEVER HARRY WANTED…
Since I see myself as Harry when I read, I cannot help but be
drawn to how much Dobby truly loved Harry. He loved him so
much he was willing to injure him to keep him safe from the
events at Hogwarts his second year. He loved him so much he
helped him cheat in the Triwizard tournament. He loved him so
much he helped him find the Room of Requirement and warned him
of Umbridge’s coming after they were ratted out. He loved him
so much he knocked Kreacher’s teeth out to defend Harry’s
honor.
Dobby seemed more loyal to Harry than anyone or anything,
including the Ministry of Magic and his former owners. If I
could choose anyone to be my best friend from the series,
Dobby would be on the short list. It would be a selfish
choice, because he would do so much for me with nothing
expected in return. Maybe instead of desiring that kind of
friend, I should be that kind of friend…
I have an easy time imagining that Dobby had a great
sense of how dangerous it was when Aberborth sent him into
that basement and that he did not hesitate for even a
millisecond, knowing that he could save Harry Potter…
I IS LOVING TOO MUCH THE WAY HE TALKS…
Admittedly, this is a small part of why Smeagol Gollum is my
favorite in The Lord of the Rings series, but the house elves’
syntax tickles the linguistic part of my brain like few other
things. The use of the third singular verb no matter the
subject, the incessant use of referring to himself in the
third person (which is normally annoying, see: “The Jimmy” of
Seinfeld fame) and, my favorite, always calling Harry by his
first and last names so often they were his very last words…I
can’t get enough of Dobby dialogue.
Perhaps my favorite Dobby quote other than his last two words
is: “Socks are Dobby’s favorite, favorite clothes, sir! I has
seven now, sir. . . . But sir …they has made a mistake in the
shop, Harry Potter, they is giving you two the same!” Nearly
everything I love about Dobby is wrapped up in those few
words.
GREATER LOVE HATH NO HOUSE ELF…
Dobby had the most noble, tear-jerking death of the series, in
my opinion. Dumbledore’s death was emotional and stunning, but
happened because he was selfish. Fred died valiantly, but not
with the same poignancy. Even Sirius’s death, while tragic,
didn’t seem as dramatically heroic to me. Dobby made the
ultimate sacrifice saving several people, including the Big
Three, and saved the series as a result. I honestly didn’t cry
for any other death or even when Harry was on his death march.
For this moment, I did:
“I want to do it properly,” were the first words of which
Harry was conscious of speaking. “Not by magic. Have you got a
spade?”
And shortly afterward he had set to work, alone, digging the
grave in the place that Bill had shown him. He dug with a kind
of fury, relishing the manual work, glorifying in the nonmagic of it, for every drop of sweat felt like a gift to the
elf who had saved their lives.
Even though it’s not expressly mentioned in the books, I have
an easy time imagining that Dobby had a great sense of how
dangerous it was when Aberborth sent him into that basement
and that he did not hesitate for even a millisecond, knowing
that he could save Harry Potter. I don’t know that Dobby even
had it in him to hesitate when it came to Harry. I don’t think
of him as a robot, but that he had so much goodness and
selflessness at his very core that he nearly could not do
anything other than try to help. And help to the death. I
think the way he died is exactly how he would have wanted to.
Like a soldier dying for his country. Or someone dying for his
best friend. There is no love greater, according to the One
who defines it. And when Harry buried him, he did it
right–without magic. To show honor. If anyone deserved Harry’s
honor, Dobby did.
I unashamedly get completely lost in fantasy worlds while
reading. Dobby is a tremendous microcosm of why. I feel like
I’m interacting with him when I read and I wish so badly that
I could. I’m certain God gave us imagination for good reason
and it is healthy to have fun with it. And that annoying
little house elf from Rowling’s magnificent imagination is my
favorite of hers.