Ryan’s Comments (group member since Mar 05, 2024)

Ryan’s comments from the Fast Moving Killas group.

Wow, what a read! The ending felt rather anticlimactic; it was rather abrupt how Frantz succeeded in persuading Ferdinand II to restore his family's honor, only for him and his children all to die from plague or old age. The whole book seemed to build up to this moment, but then the bloodline ends, and the author finishes the book with a meditation on societies hollow fascination with medieval justice and the creation of the inaccurate executioner caricature that has become a beloved trope in our culture.

My question for this section: Do you think Frantz still would've been able to succeed in restoring his honor if he lived in the Nuremburg his children inherited, even in its state of decline?

It's fascinating to see how Frantz Schmidt's long career in executions has shaped his worldview. This chapter certainly gives more insight into how Frantz thought he fit into society and how he viewed the systems of control that he worked for.

My question for this chapter:
What reasons does the author give for why Frantz viewed acts of class violence and burglary as particularly dishonorable?

Wow, it's been a wild ride watching Frantz grow up into an established master of his craft, really goes to show that hard work and unyielding values go a long way. His remarkable ideas about guilt and ultimate redemption must've been a comfort in dealing with ruffians and scoundrels as a career.

My question for you all this week:
Since state-sponsored executions played such a large part in letting those in control assert their authority, why do you think executioners suffered from such a negative stigma despite the fact that dispensing justice was seen as both inevitable and necessary?

Joe wrote: "Why don’t we have a town dog-slayer (knacker) anymore?"

Good question, Joe! Although I'm no expert, I can imagine there's several reasons why we don't have town dog-slayers (knackers) anymore. Firstly, back in Frantz's time dogs were carriers of dangerous diseases (most notably rabies) and as such had to be culled to prevent outbreaks (remember, no modern medicine!). Furthermore, there's been a cultural shift in which people have generally adopted a more humane "life is sacred" stance in regard to animals and how they should be treated, this is especially true for Dogs, who are now commonly recognized as household pets instead of disease carriers. There's also been technological advances that have rendered the knacker's profession obsolete, such as standardized advanced sanitation and spaying / neutering procedures. I'd imagine that back in Frantz's era, you'd have to sleep on your toes when you're on the street, or else you'd be picked out like easy meat!

The transformation of Frantz Schmidt from aspiring journeyman to salaried master of Nuremburg is truly an inspiring tale of upwards mobility that one can only imagine was rare in those heavily caste-segregated times. Something that really stuck out to me during this chapter of the book was the dichotomy between Frantz's rigid moral values (abstaining from drinking, womanizing, etc.) and the violent inhumane profession that he excelled in and was able to rationalize to himself as a necessary evil.

My question for you all: What reasons does the book give as an explanation for the exponential increase in state-enforced violence that started during Frantz's adolescence? Do you think a more modern approach (rehabilitation, longer prison sentences) would've worked during the 16th-17th centuries, or do you think that frequent public displays of primitive violence were more effective at dissuading those with criminal inclinations?

Wow, what a fascinating first chapter! I'm quite fond of how the author goes about exploring the setting and how he really pulls no punches in regard to graphically explaining the woes faced by those living in 20th century Europe. I can't even begin to imagine what life would be like in a world where people only had a 1 in 2 chance of surviving til age 12 (!)

My question for you all: Although we can only speculate, what do you think the father-son dynamic between Heinreich and young Frantz was like as he was growing up? I know I certainly wouldn't have been able to stomach assisting in executions when I was in middle school!

By this point, the whole thing feels less like a whimsical children’s tale and more like a barely controlled descent into madness. We’ve got secret chambers, three-headed dogs, and a growing sense that something dark and terrible is brewing beneath the surface of all this broomstick-flying and wizarding charm. The deeper Harry, Ron, and Hermione dig, the clearer it becomes that Hogwarts isn’t just a school—it’s a labyrinth of mysteries, half-truths, and the kind of old magic that hums in the bones of the castle.

Harry’s obsession with the Mirror of Erised is downright haunting. Here’s a kid who’s spent his life being kicked around, only to stumble upon a reflection that promises everything he’s ever wanted. It’s a drug, a hallucination wrapped in nostalgia and longing, and Dumbledore—ever the cryptic puppet master—warns him off it with the kind of vague wisdom that only raises more questions. And then there’s Snape, lurking in the shadows, a walking contradiction of menace and mystery. Is he protecting Harry? Hunting him? Both?
The stakes are rising. The game is afoot. And the trap is slowly closing around them all.
My questions for anyone who got this far:
1. Quidditch isn’t just a game here—it’s a battlefield. Harry’s first match is loaded with danger, sabotage, and a near-death experience. Do you think it was Snape who tried to knock him off his broom, or was there another force at work? And why would anyone want to kill a first-year in a school sport?
2. Hagrid is lovable, sure, but the man is a walking liability. From dragons to three-headed hellhounds, he has a habit of dropping classified information like a drunken spy. Is he just too trusting, or is there something more dangerous about his inability to keep a secret?

In response to Tony's inquiry into how Ron + Harry didn't notice they were being watched by Dumbledore:

In Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, Harry becomes obsessed with the Mirror of Erised after first discovering it during a late-night escapade. The mirror shows one’s deepest desires rather than just reflecting reality. For Harry, this means seeing his parents, whom he has longed to know. He returns to the mirror multiple times, and on one of these occasions, Ron accompanies him. It’s during this visit that Dumbledore later reveals he had been watching Harry.

But how did neither Harry nor Ron notice Dumbledore standing there?

1. The Mirror’s Effect on the Viewer
The Mirror of Erised is not just any ordinary magical object—it has an almost hypnotic quality that completely consumes those who look into it. When Harry gazes into the mirror, he loses all sense of his surroundings. He’s entirely transfixed by the vision of his parents. Ron, though not as emotionally attached to the mirror as Harry, is still deeply engrossed in what he sees: himself as Head Boy and Quidditch captain. This suggests that the mirror alters perception, making those looking into it less aware of their physical environment.

2. Dumbledore’s Mastery of Stealth
Dumbledore is a supremely powerful wizard, and he’s known for his silent, graceful movements. He is perfectly capable of moving unnoticed if he wishes, and there’s even speculation that he could have used a Disillusionment Charm or some other method of magical concealment to remain unseen. This is a man who, despite his age, could react quickly enough to face Grindelwald in battle and defeat him in what was described as one of the greatest wizarding duels of all time. Sneaking up on two distracted students? Child’s play.

In response to joes question of why Harry could see the stone through the mirror but prof. quirell couldn’t:

This is because dumbledore set up the mirror with a sneaky and clever paradox: only those who don’t seek the stone are able to use the mirror and take it. In classic dumbledore fashion, this was a wise move, as he’s relying on the moral paradox of “those that should be in power don’t seek it, and those that seek power don’t deserve it”. I think this little nugget of wisdom certainly has applications in today’s world!

Wow! A stunning end to a stunning novel. I’m fond of the creative obstacles the trio of hero’s faced on their way to the Stone, I remember thinking the chess scene from the movie was badass when I was a kid, like how the pieces are alive and stuff.

A question I have after reading these chapters:
How might the stone be used in the future books? What sort of applications might it have in the right (or wrong) hands?

In my response to Tony’s message, I would like to correct an egregious spelling error I committed: malloy —> malfoy.

In response to tony’s “do you think Harry and Malloy could’ve gotten along better if they sat together on the hogwarts express?”: Personally, I think no, as malfoy early on is shown to hate anyone who has anything that even resembles a moral compass. I think there would’ve quickly been some intense friction between him and Harry, as Malfoy would likely feel threatened & insecure by Harry’s status as a hero in the wizarding world, and it’s unlikely they would’ve found any common topics to discuss had they sat together on the train (Harry was raised by muggles whereas malfoy is part of a long line of wizards).

In response to tj schwochers response to joes second question, I would argue that the dursleys DID in fact treat Harry Potter like shit. Locking up a child in a cupboard for days at a time is neglect and abuse, it’s not preparing him for reality: its depriving him of the love that children need in order to develop into healthy, centered and stable adults. I wouldn’t be surprised if in his later adolescence Harry develops some sort of avoidant personality disorder or similar psychological obstacles.

In the chapter 6-7 range, a whole new roster of characters is revealed to the reader. Personally, im charmed by Ron’s humble disposition and hermoines know-how, but I would argue that draco is a two-dimensional villain who inspires no sympathy from the reader. Perhaps im just not far enough yet, but I think the author should’ve given him some redeeming qualities to make him a more compelling antagonist; so far as he’s done is be mean to Harry and have an incredibly vain attitude towards those who he perceives as less than him.

hmmmmmm… if wizards are real then why don’t we have them do stuff like solve world hunger or poverty. Big ticket items like this would help grow wizard support i think