I wrote this paper for a Social Justice Seminar. In it I ask a variety of question about the role of force and protective action, as it relates to God's action in the book of Jude. Underlying this question I am also moving in a more free hermeneutical direction. At the time I was reading Heidegger and Gadamer, so I play a little more freely with "proper" interpretation that some people may be comfortable with. I do this because I am also wrestling in the paper with whether the Bible does in fact say anything worth taking into consideration in the 21st century, specifically in light of feminist and post-colonial criticisms.
If you have not read the Book of Jude recently I encourage you to do so because I jump in at the deep end of the pool.
Without further ado:
JUDE, JUSTICE, AND THE ROLE OF PROTECTOR:
PROFESSOR MINERVA MCGONAGALL AS A LENS THROUGH WHICH TO READ JUDE’S DEPICTION
OF GOD’S PROTECTIVE ACTION
A quick search of the Internet,
Regent’s library catalogue, and the EBSCO journal database for the keywords
“Jude AND Justice” yields very few results. Of those results, the majority
occur because the author’s name happens to be Jude, not because the book of
Jude is the subject. Does the book of Jude truly have so little to say about
God’s character so as to be excluded from academic literature, or has our
understanding of God’s character become segmented to the degree that
discussions of Jude fail to draw a connection to God’s justice? I think it is
the latter. Challenging segmented thinking regarding God’s character, I will
argue that the theocentric vision of Jude portrays the character of God – inclusive
of God’s justice – as caller, protector, and keeper of the beloved, and
subsequently invokes believers to imitate such protective acts. However, such a
conception of God, and the human action that may follow from it, clashes with
current ideas regarding relationships that narrowly focus on empowerment.
Consequently, I attempt to incorporate the role of protector, based on Jude,
into human relationships.[1] To facilitate this integration I will
draw upon the character of Professor Minerva McGonagall of the Harry Potter series – constructed from
the books, movies, and Pottermore
online – using her as a lens through which to understand and limit a protector
role in situations requiring justice.[2] I will posit that she typifies
matriarchal protection, thereby contrasting oppressive, xenophobic, and
patriarchal protection that may result from some readings of Jude.
The letter of Jude has “long been
neglected due to its small size, strong language and apparent theological
lightness.”[3] Moreover, the book’s imagery is foreign
to modern readers, and its use of intertestamental literature pains many
evangelicals, throwing into question presuppositions of scriptural authority and
“correct” uses of ancient story. For these reasons, as well as its absence in
the lectionary, it remains to a large extent a dormant text. After establishing
Professor McGonagall as a lens through which to read the protective acts of
Jude, I will exposit the letter of Jude in three parts in a way that lends the
text to addressing just protective action. First, the framing of the letter
will be considered; second, the stories Jude reworks will be touched upon; and
finally, I will inquire into how Jude ties together his letter. During this
exposition I will also highlight potential problems arising from the text. Responding
to each of these objections may be done through greater textual analysis,
situated readings, historical exegeses, etc.; however, such a treatment is
beyond the scope of this paper. Instead, I will utilize the character of
Professor McGonagall as a dialogical lens through which to engage the tradition
that suitably nuances a twenty-first century, western understanding of the book
of Jude.
Readers of the Harry Potter series might stereotype Professor McGonagall as being
fair to a fault, but her fairness, justice, and moral compass are rooted in a complex
character. Her fairness is helpfully explained by the fact that she is the
daughter “of a Scottish Presbyterian minister.”[4] She is described as resembling her
father in temperament – upright and honest. At the same time, Minerva, as a
child, grew up in a home plagued by the secret that she and her mother were
witches. Raised in the midst of this tension – that there is correct action but
that such action is particular to each circumstance, which is sometimes secrecy
– motivates her desire for impartial, yet appropriately situated, action. This history
prevents her from becoming a stereotype of ideal fairness, thereby validating
her as a realistically human (although fictional), not idealized, lens through
which to read Jude.
Utilizing Professor McGonagall as an
interpretive lens is further validated by her refusal of partiality in the
treatment of students, as she often does not protect her students from the
consequences of their actions. For example, after the mountain troll incident
she docks points from her own house, even while being concerned for the
students’ safety.[5] Moreover, on the occasion of Norbert the
dragon’s release – when Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Draco are caught out of
bed wandering the halls – she does not treat the students of her house
preferentially; rather, they all lose house points and are given detention.[6] Finally, she exhibits her finitude when
she displays her exacerbation toward Harry, Ron, and Hermione: “Why is it, when
something happens, it is always you three?”[7] These examples assist in substantiating
her as a valid character to use as a lens for reading Jude, as she exhibits the
traits of an unbiased protector, who is motived by fairness and justice that is
specific to each occasion.
Protection on specific occasions, as a
form of justice, is an underlying theme Jude cultivates throughout his letter
and is evident within his a greeting. Beginning his letter, Jude writes “to
those who are called (klētos
– privileged),
who are loved (agapaō
– esteemed) in God the Father and kept (tēreō
– watched, guarded) for
Jesus Christ”(v.1).[8] This threefold
description of the called, the loved, and the kept demarcates not only the
traits attributed to the recipients of the letter, but at the same time
develops the character of God as the one who calls, loves, and keeps.
This character of
God, and the traits attributed to the recipients of the letter, are for a
specific context of trials. In verse 3 Jude writes, “I find
it necessary to write and encourage (parakaleō
– invitation to come) you
to carry on the struggle (epagōnizomai
– to contend strenuously in defence of) for
the
faith.” The struggle is
further clarified in verse 4, as being against those “who
turn (metatithēmi
– pervert) the grace of our God into an excuse for blatant immorality (aselgeia
– intemperance; licentiousness, lasciviousness) and deny our only master and Lord, Jesus Christ.” The language
Jude uses has deliberate sexual and overindulgent connotations to describe
those who take more than enough. Jude’s polemic here is against those who
endanger the community, and thereby Jesus’ name, through their greedy
disposition towards life.
Jude’s second section begins with a Midrash
against the overindulgent, through a retelling of a number of Old Testament
stories in which God’s action is aggressive, protective, and judgemental in
response to those with a greedy disposition.[9] There is a unifying theme of justice in
the stories, beginning with the typological redemption story of the exodus.
Jude writes in verse 5, “the Lord, having saved (sōzō
– to save, rescue; to preserve safe and unharmed) his people out of Egypt, afterward destroyed (apollymi
– to destroy utterly) those who did not believe.” Here the pair of God’s just protection
(sōzō) and God’s judgement (apollymi) are
tied together a constellation of action that responds to unjust situations,
such as the oppression in Egypt.
Jude goes on to
highlight God’s just action in the cases of the angel rebellion, Sodom and
Gomorrah, and the account of unnatural angelic relations. Of these, the
consequences of the angels’ actions are articulated in verse 7, where they “are
exhibited as an example by undergoing the punishment (dikē
– right, justice) of eternal fire.”[10] Gene Green comments on Jude’s use of these stories, stating,
“Jude’s principle emphasis in verse 6 is on the way the angels abandoned their
proper place. This the angels (Watchers) did, according to the tradition, by
engaging in sexual relations with humans (1 En. 12.4)...[Jude] highlights the
way such sin is a violation of the ordering of things.”[11] In the context of a discussion regarding justice, “proper order”
might easily be heard as a socially oppressive order, a maintenance or
justification of the dominant, patriarchal, and hetero-normal perspective.
The critique that Jude is oppressive is not easily
overlooked. Ruth Anne Reese correctly identifies that “[t]he book
of Jude does not say anything about women, and only a few women have commented
on the book.”
[12] As
such, I feel obligated to acknowledge that there is at a minimum a latent
patriarchal worldview present in this text.
At the same time, the identifiers of the called, loved, and kept partly
counteract a completely oppressive patriarchy; the caller, lover, and keeper
offers something that was previously absent from the relationship. Moreover, if
one is reading these stories with the understanding that Jude’s condemnation is
regarding an overreaching greed, then this argument for proper ordering ought
to apply only to circumstances where “enough” (relational equality) is
overreached, not where it is yet to be attained[SK1] .
Responding to the charge that there is at minimum a latent patriarchy within the
letter of Jude, and acknowledging that “[r]eading is also participation,” it
becomes apparent that the reader may participate in reading with a feminist
lens in an effort to establish a contemporary reading of this text.[13] As such, reading through Professor
McGonagall’s actions of maternal care offers nuance to patriarchal protection,
as she is a strong, independent woman and her actions transgress the expected.
An example of this is her exhibition of maternal care for her peer Professor
Trelawney when Dolores Umbridge fires and attempts to kick Professor Trelawney
out of Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall’s care is extended even when the person
is in an utterly disordered state; “Professor Trelawney was standing in the
middle of the Entrance Hall with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry
bottle in the other, looking utterly mad.”[14] In this situation, Professor McGonagall
endangers her career for the sake of the other. J. K. Rowling described the
scene this way:
Professor
McGonagall had broken away from the spectators, marched straight up to
Professor Trelawney and was patting her firmly on the back while withdrawing a
large handkerchief from within her robes.
‘There, there, Sybill…calm down…blow your
nose on this…it is not as bad as you think, now…you are not going to have to
leave Hogwarts…’
‘Oh really, Professor McGonagall?’ said
Umbridge in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward.[15]
Here
Professor McGonagall protects and cares for Professor Trelawney’s physical and
emotional needs, which can be interpreted as further mitigating potential
readings of patriarchal, dominating judgement in Jude with maternal actions of
risking oneself even for the dishevelled and demeaned other.
In addition to Professor McGonagall’s nuancing of “proper
order” protective action, Jude rounds out the constellation of just – protective
and judgemental – action by continuing his Midrash, wherein he contrasts
Michael the archangel with the stories of Cain, Balaam, and Korah. Jude states
that judgement will come to those who err for the sake of gain. Regarding such
people, he writes in verse 12: “These
people are blemishes on your love-feasts, feasting with you without reverence, caring (poimainō
- to feed, pasture, tend a flock) only for themselves.” Again, the charge occurs because such people miss the communal aspect of care. For Jude such people
are nothing but a façade – a
waterless cloud, an autumn tree without fruit. This segment closely echoes the
“woes” in 1 Enoch by again connecting sin with judgement from God. Jude here
takes up the prophetic mantle over-against the heretics.[16] Green quotes
Nickelsburg, who articulates that 1 Enoch exhibits
a
world out of kilter, a world of unresolved tensions and polarities, [where] justice
is upside down. The sinners are in rebellion against God, and this sin goes
unpunished. The righteous ones are oppressed, and their tribulation is not
alleviated, nor are their righteous deeds rewarded. The second half of the Woe
announcement is that the situation will be remedied – in part. The wicked will
be judged for their deeds.[17]
In
this way, Jude’s referral to 1 Enoch locates the judgement actions of God as a
response to a perceived imbalance of justice.
Justice, specifically against those who portray façades of
care for their community (v. 12), is then the reason for God’s coming in
judgement. Verse 15 is directed toward such people, wherein the Lord comes “to
execute judgement (krisis –
impeachment, condemn, judicial decision; cf. v.9) on all and to convict all the ungodly of all their ungodly acts.” Clarifying
this,
Green states:
To
be ‘godless’ or to practice ‘impiety’ was the opposite of being ‘righteous’ and
practicing ‘justice.’ This accusation recalls Jude’s principal charge against
the heretics, which opened his accusation against these infiltrators (v.4) and
is also the topic of this ‘text’ [from Enoch] and the following apostolic
prophecy about the heretics (v.18).[18]
Thus
the theme of justice that undergirds and ties together Jude’s ideas becomes
more apparent. Furthermore, the notion of greed is again apparent in verse 16;
“they flatter (thaumazō
– regard with admiration, wonder at) others (prosōpon
– the face) to gain advantage (ōpheleia
– profit).” Here Jude employs a brilliant
play of façade, face, and hiding true intent to describe the unjust; the
unjust utilize façade, wondering at others (intently
looking upon the other’s face), to falsely puff up others for their own selfish,
undue gain. Green
remarks that the expression “to wonder at” “is
quite common in the LXX, meaning either to rightly favour someone…or, more
commonly, to show undue partiality, of the kind that may pervert justice.”[19]
Having retold the Old Testament stories, illuminated their
relation to issues of justice, and divulged God’s just response, Jude’s letter
moves on to his third segment of tying the introduction and the stories
together. Jude has been using the refrain “these people” (houtos)
to refer to those who are in danger of God’s judgement, so when confronted with
two “but you (de hymeis)” statements, in
verses 17 and 20, the reader is addressed more directly. These “but you”
statements are followed by “dear
friends (agapētos),”
calling to mind verse 1 where the recipients are identified those “who
are loved (agapaō) in God,” which reaffirms their identity. The recipients subsequently
are charged to remember that “there
will be scoffers driven by their own ungodly desires” (v.18), which sums up much of Jude’s critique of the
disposition of “these people” heretofore examined.
While it may be
pleasant to think of oneself in terms of the beloved, Jude here utilizes an “us
and them” binary. It is a binary potentially reeking of xenophobia and
self-righteousness. Betsy Bauman-Martin’s investigation into the book of Jude
attends to “its understanding of and construction of power structures and
social boundaries vis-à-vis the concepts and realities of empire.”[20] She concludes that
Jude succumbs to the discourse of empire and “the anti-imperial sources are
unabashedly turned into texts that advocate the master-narrative of his
community, threatening those on the inside who might cross outside, and those
on the outside who have ‘intruded.’”[21] This is a stinging critique
in a twenty-first century context in which post-colonial readings cannot simply
be dismissed through recourse to traditional readings, but must respond to
contemporary contexts that take seriously colonial histories of oppression,
racism, sexism, and exploitation.
The xenophobia charged against Jude, due
to his use of imperial “us and them” categorizations, is also helpfully abated
in our twenty-first century context by reading through Professor McGonagall.
She wonderfully offers protection to those outside her clan/tribe/house. For
example, when Draco is transfigured into a ferret by Mad-Eye Moody (who at that
point is actually Barty Crouch Jr. impersonating Mad-Eye), Professor McGonagall,
who does not particularly like Draco, stops Mad-Eye and lambasts him saying,
“we never use Transfiguration as a
punishment!”[22] In this instance she protects the “them”
as a way of respecting the personhood of each individual. Professor McGonagall’s
action helps deconstruct the clear-cut “us and them” posited in Jude’s letter.
The second refrain of “but you dear friends” develops the
positive affirmations of the beginning of the letter. The recipients are
encouraged in verses 21-23 to
Keep (tēreō
– cf. v.1) yourselves in the love (agape) of God as you wait for the mercy (eleos
– cf. v.2) of our Lord Jesus Christ to grant you eternal life. And have mercy on (eleaō) some men who
are wavering; save (sōzō
– cf. v.5) others by snatching them out of the fire (pyr
– cf. v.7); and have mercy on (eleaō) others with fear, hating (miseō
– regard with ill will) even the garment stained by the flesh.
The
intertextuality of this segment recalls words used earlier in the letter to
recapitulate the themes of being kept and loved. The agency in this final
section, however, switches from the introduction where God calls, loves, and
keeps, to humans as the ones who are keeping and showing mercy. Reese comments
that this is a somewhat unexpected turn, in that after all the criticism of
“these people” the focus and the required action falls to the beloved. “It is
the beloved who are expected to act, and their actions are to be directed
toward themselves, not toward the other.”[23] Mounce’s[SK2] translation, however, does not lend itself to such an
insular reading, as it directs the beloved’s actions externally, such as saving,
snatching from fire, and hating the stained garment. Within this grammatically difficult
text the shift in agency acts as a mandate to imitate God’s just action. Jude
frames this imitation doxologically:
Now to the one who is able to keep you from stumbling, and to make you stand in his glorious (doxa) presence without blame and with great joy – to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, belong glory (doxa), majesty,
power, and authority, before all time now and for all time. Amen. (v.24-25)
This
final section reframes the human imitation as a glorification of God, not as
self-sufficiency independent of relationship.
As highlighted above, the letter of Jude
develops the character of God as the protector of the beloved. For Jude, God’s
saving acts occurred both as protection of the community and judgement against
those whose greedy disposition threatens it. These saving acts are preventative
of an overreaching greed and façades of care that hide injustice, while
enabling each to have “enough,” thereby implementing a just and proper
ordering. Finally, the character of God is
empowering as agency moves from God to humanity.
In contexts of development and
interpersonal relationships “empowerment” is a buzzword used by otherwise
disparate approaches. Attempting to clarify how “empowerment” is used
contemporarily will assist in understanding Jude’s call to the beloved to
imitate God. In the neoliberal theory that dominates the western
liberal-democratic discourse a linear unlimited growth is assumed.
“Empowerment” in this discourse connotes advancement in an unending upward
trajectory, which can be invoked from a hierarchal perspective such as “trickle-down”
or from “bottom-up” and “organic” models, all of which rest on the same
presuppositions that “all boats can rise.” Alternatively, post-development, sustainable
development, and human development theorists challenge this notion of unending
growth. Instead they favour of other indicators of wellbeing that take ecology,
limitation of the earth, and finitude of individuals seriously. These alternatives
draw from feminist and Marxist theory; Uma Kothari notes that these rejections
“challenge the dominant, modernist narrative that posits a singular, unilinear
trajectory.”[24] Within these discourses of challenge, the
language of “empowerment” is also used, as a way of rejecting prescriptive
approaches.[25] The use of “empowerment” by both
neo-liberal and alternative theories can have an obfuscating affect.
Though “empowerment” is used by various
theories of development and theories of persons, it exists in a spectrum that
tends towards “hands off” approaches. At one extreme empowerment might be
letting someone “pull themselves up by their bootstraps,” as is often advocated
for by the International Monetary Fund and its policies of deregulation. At the
other extreme it can be a disposition that “we can offer nothing” and “they are
unique and already have their own answers,” as often promulgated by advocates
of the “noble savage” myth. At either extreme relationship is abandoned. Retention
of relationship is therefore a middle way. When Jude puts forward an imitator
role for pursuing justice he is validating relationship. Therefore, at either
extreme, empowerment does not fit Jude’s call to imitation of God. Professor
McGonagall’s protective action is also a middle form of empowerment that
understands limitation (contrary to never-ending linear progress) and validates
relationship, even when such actions limit the agency of others.
Maggie Smith’s portrayal of Professor
McGonagall in the eighth movie casts light on what strong, maternal, protective
action might look like. Her actions
are in response to Lord Voldemort’s pursuit of dominating, destructive power. She challenges his neoliberal approach
to ever-increasing power, his unquenchable greed of wanting more than enough.
Ralph Fiennes’ interpretation of Voldemort captures the exuding sexual nature
of Voldemort’s lust for power (v.4), specifically his passionate quest for the
elder wand and the moment of climax that occurs when he takes it from
Dumbledore’s grave. Understanding Voldemort’s actions in a sexual light offers
insight into his previous madness caused by his unquenched lust for power that
provoked him to split his soul in the first place.[26]
This depiction echoes
Jude’s use of sexual connotations to describe greedy dispositions that endanger
community. In contrast to this masturbatory lust, Professor McGonagall
demonstrates an outpouring of protective love.
Probably the most powerful, tear-jerking
example of this protection is when Professor McGonagall protects the castle and
all the students inside, while Voldemort’s forces approach. She calls “piertotum locomotor,” drawing on her
strong power and enlivening the statues and suits of armour. She instructs
them, “Hogwarts is threatened! Man the boundaries, protect us, do your duty to
our school!”[27] In so doing she acts on behalf of those
in the school, protecting children as part of a battle plan rather than leaving
each one to his or her own devices.
As stirring as this scene is, it poses a
number of ethical questions similar to those posed by Jude’s exhortation to
imitate God. One of which is the question of whether it is ever valid to
violate the integrity and autonomy of the individual. In the case of Draco
earlier, it was precisely this individuality Professor McGonagall defended.
These two accounts can be harmonized through a criterion of intent. I could
argue that it was not Draco’s intent to be turned into a ferret, nor was it the
intent of those in Hogwarts to die; therefore, Professor McGonagall’s action in
both cases was protective of the implied intent of those involved.
However, if I were to take this logic to
its conclusion I may find myself justifying the use of military invasions,
pre-emptive wars, or any number of coercive actions as measures for the
protection of “implied” intent. Thus, ideally a stated intent by those
requiring protection would help to clarify and limit occasions when it is
acceptable to violate the other’s autonomy through protective action; but
neither Jude, nor Professor McGonagall offer examples of such behaviour. In
real life such statements are also rare due to limited information and power
imbalances that may prevent explicit requests for protection. In cases where
there is a power imbalance, such as McGonagall’s protection of the students, or
God’s action in the book of Jude, there may be occasions when such protective
actions may appear to be the right course of action.
A potential objection regarding the
limits of the analogy is that Professor McGonagall protects children, not those
“of age,” and therefore the example cannot extend to relationship between
adults.[28] While it is indeed the case that Professor
McGonagall protects children, when the analogy is framed in terms of relative
power (she has more relative power than the students in terms of magical
capability) the analogy may extend beyond communal norms. Being “of age” is
nothing more than a communally agreed upon categorization, which is why various
ages are deemed acceptable in various contexts. As such, fixed categorizations
inevitably blend into spectrums, one of which is relative power. This spectrum
understanding is why Professor McGonagall can act as protector for both the
students and Professor Trelawney, her peer, since in both situations the
relative power difference is such that she has the agency and ability to act as
protector.
Professor McGonagall thus interprets
and exemplifies the theocentric vision of Jude, wherein God is caller and
keeper of the beloved, and is to be imitated. As such, Jude can be interpreted
as text that calls the believer to protective acts of justice, specifically in
the face of overreaching and greedy actions. While aspects of the Jude text are
problematic, utilizing the cipher of Professor McGonagall assists in crossing
the historical and cultural gap to the twenty-first century context where
patriarchal and xenophobic oppression ought not to be tolerated, and protective
actions require maternal, risky self-giving that at a minimum aligns with the implied
intent of those being protected.
[1] In this paper I am not
offering a comprehensive biblical theology of just protective actions, nor a
universally applicable matrix. Rather, I am developing one line of thinking
regarding protective action from the starting place of the book of Jude.
[2] I am using a method similar to that of John D. Caputo; whose technique
of “short circuiting” enables him to reach conclusions more quickly. It is not
that the text does not support such a readings; rather the application of an
intentional lens causes new light to fall on the text revealing fresh insights.
John D. Caputo, The
Weakness of God: A Theology of the Event (Bloomington, IN: Indiana
University Press, 2006), 12.
[3] Robert
L. Webb and Peter H. Davids, “Reading Jude with New Eyes: An Introduction,” in Reading
Jude With New Eyes: Methodological Reassessments of The Letter of Jude, ed.
Robert L. Webb and Peter H. Davids (London: T & T Clark, 2008), 3.
[4] J. K Rowling,
“Pottermore,” February 27, 2014,
http://www.pottermore.com/en/book1/chapter7/moment1/professor-mcgonagall.
[5] Chris
Columbus, Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone, DVD (Warner Bros.,
2001).
[6] J. K Rowling, Harry
Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone (London: Bloombury, 1997), 178.
[7] David
Yates, Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince, DVD (Warner Bros., 2009).
[8] Jude text, Greek
transliteration, and translations (unless stated otherwise) are from William
D. Mounce and Robert H. Mounce, The Mounce Reverse-Interlinear New Testament
(Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011),
http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Jude+1&version=MOUNCE (accessed
February 22, 2014); William D. Mounce, Mounce Concise Greek-English
Dictionary of the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011),
http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Jude+1&version=MOUNCE (accessed
February 22, 2014).
[9] Betsy
Bauman-Martin, “Postcolonial Pollution in the Letter of Jude,” in Reading
Jude With New Eyes: Methodological Reassessments of The Letter of Jude, ed.
Robert L. Webb and Peter H. Davids (London: T & T Clark, 2008), 55.
[10]
Cf. Gen. 6:1-4.
[11] Gene L. Green, Jude
and 2 Peter (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2008), 72.
[12] Ruth
Anne Reese, “Jude: The Implications of Feminist Reading,” in Feminist
Biblical Interpretation: A Compendium of Critical Commentary on The Books of
The Bible and Related Literature (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2012), 898.
[13] Ibid.
[14] J. K Rowling, Harry
Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Vancouver, BC: Raincoast, 2003), 524.
[15] Ibid., 525.
[16] Green, Jude and 2
Peter, 89.
[17] Ibid., 89 n.1.
[18] Ibid., 107.
[19] Ibid., 110.
[20] Bauman-Martin,
“Postcolonial Pollution in the Letter of Jude,” 54.
[21] Ibid.,
55.
[22] J. K Rowling, Harry
Potter and The Goblet of Fire (London: Bloomsbury, 2000), 182. Italics original.
[23] Reese, “Jude: The
Implications of Feminist Reading,” 902.
[24] Uma Kothari, ed., A
Radical History of Development Studies: Individuals, Institutions and
Ideologies (New York: Zed Books, 2005), 1.
[25] Ibid., 48.
[26] David
Yates, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1, DVD (Warner Bros.,
2010).
[27] J.
K Rowling, Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows (London: Bloomsbury,
2007), 484; David Yates, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2,
DVD (Warner Bros., 2011).
[28] Rowling, Harry Potter
and The Deathly Hallows, 483.
