The Surprising Connection to #MeToo in J.K. Rowling’s Robert Galbraith Series

The latest spinoff of the Potterverse is, as expected, garnering a lot of buzz (Fantastic Beasts 2 is, after all, fall’s most anticipated movie), but I’m much more excited by the latest book in J.K. Rowling’s Cormoran Strike series coming out in September, called Lethal White.
The series is appealing for a lot of reasons. It’s got a Harry Potter-for-grownups feel to it (the c-word! Thoughts on botox! Not a wand in sight!) with a killer plot to match all her mysteries. I’d argue this series is actually the artist at the height of her powers, growing beyond the wizarding world and exploring new heights with the help of the now well-known pseudonym Robert Galbraith.
But I really come for the world-building. The beauty and thoughtfulness with which Rowling creates her characters, combined with the London they live in, is second-to-none. Freed from an entirely fictional space, she details real locations like Trafalgar Square with loving and obsessive detail. One senses her fondness for the city just as much as its occupants (except the press, which — honestly, fair).
[Spoiler alert for the third Strike novel, Career of Evil]. One of the most thoughtful and, to my mind, forward-thinking aspects of the series is her secondary protagonist, Robin. No less intelligent than private eye Cormoran Strike and often more graceful, she’s become a keen detective in her own right. She’s also a rape survivor, which she discloses to Strike midway through the third novel.
What’s most impressive here is the restraint and respect that Rowling shows as a storyteller. A survivor myself, I had a feeling that Robin was harboring that kind of secret. Rowling excels at subtle hints placed strategically, often several novels before the big reveal. In this case: dropping out of university, diverting from an intended life course, steadfastly refusing to leave a douche-nozzle boyfriend/husband (who responded to her rape with such astounding insensitivity that I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t experienced equally horrific reactions).
But Rowling never uses the rape as a plot point, which is one of my biggest pet peeves in TV and movies. She also doesn’t use it as a cheap device to drive Robin’s character, another common trope. “Is your character a bitch?” I imagine a writers’ room wondering. “Make her a rape victim — that’ll get people to feel sorry for her!”
Not here. Rowling saved the information about Robin until it was essentially useless to her. I don’t mean that the reveal doesn’t have meaning; Robin and Strike are pursuing a serial murderer who stalks young women, and Robin gets rightly triggered. But the detail isn’t hammered home as if the rape is her most defining characteristic. It’s not used for suspense or dramatic flair. It’s just simply part of her story, as it would be with a real human.
The same goes for the subtle depiction of Robin’s PTS(D): mainly, that it’s not ever-present. She’s not constantly flashing back to the event, despite her dangerous work tracking killers who display the same traits as her rapist. She experiences triggers under stress and when she sees something similar to what she experienced. And they’re not wild fits. They’re quiet and contained, but no less powerful for it.
I can’t tell you how much that means to me, and how rare it is to see. When I have to watch out for callous depictions of rape everywhere, including in movie trailers, I don’t usually feel as though an on-screen survivor represents me or my experience. Robin’s life, her story, and the way she chooses to share it with people she trusts really speak to me.
This work to be inclusive of rape survivors and women with PTS(D), particularly during the #MeToo movement, is critical. I’d argue that the next step of advocacy is to use media to normalize the experience of those who have survived harassment and assault and to show them as people, not just victims or accusers or all the other names they’re called. Rowling has done that through the books and their accompanying TV series.
Two of the most powerful wizards at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger and Minerva McGonagall, were women. And now Rowling is deliberately and quietly crafting a character who has even more heft and potential. She calls Robin the most lovable character she’s ever written out of all her books: “A good person but likable,” and “a smart woman, a kind and loyal person.”
She’s said that she’s planning for more than seven books total in this series. With that kind of breadth combined with her reach, she’s telling a much-needed story and giving voice to a broad group of women who need continued attention. Our stories need to be told. Rowling is telling them. And for that, I salute her.
Image adapted from Flickr.
