We always seem to expect too much of heroes

THOSE OF us waiting to read JK Rowling’s first book for adults, The Casual Vacancy, wanted to imagine that if someone has all that wizardry and magic in their heads when writing children’s books, what could be fizzing and popping in there when it comes to adult stories?

We were probably slightly jealous of the gazillions of children all over the world getting so much out of Harry Potter, even if the books’appeal was a mystery to some grown-ups. Face it; we wanted some of that action. My daughter has been an avid Potter fan almost her whole life – first being read to and subsequently devouring each new book as it came out. The sheer joy and delight at each new Potter was clear to see, so the weight of unreasonable expectation with which I approached this story was heavy, I will admit. For the author, it must have been even worse so who could blame JK Rowling for going down the route of parish council minutiae?

What could be further from the intrigue and glamour of life at Hogwarts? I’ve endured a few parish council meetings in my time and the only book I would have written as a result would have involved several gory murders with no mystery about the perpetrator.

But maybe it’s unfair to expect Rowling to come up with Harry Potter for grown-ups. Maybe we expected far too much and are at least a little guilty of joining that great British pastime – knocking down someone who we think is getting too big for their boots.

Victoria Pendleton for instance. We think that just because someone has excelled in one area, they will become an automatic expert in another.

On her first outing on Strictly Come Dancing, all the weight of great expectations hung round her neck more heavily than her Olympic gold medals. The terror of a hugely successful sportswoman crashing and burning was visible in every step she failed to remember. Top of the rostrum one week; bottom of the class the next.

But why should she be a naturally brilliant dancer? It’s hardly the same as cycling (apart from the lycra). It is like making the geeky maths kid at school play as a striker in the football team so they can be good at that too. It doesn’t always add up.

We have to manage our great expectations when it comes to our heroes. A s anyone who rubs shoulders with the glitterati would have us believe, it is a mistake to come face-toface with those we most admire.

I would like to think that had I met David Cassidy in the mid-1970s, he would have proved the exception and been everything I hoped and believed he was.

Our destiny would have been fulfilled when he realised that what he had been searching for all his life was a pimply teenager in satin bell-bottoms with a failed perm and a tendency to blush furiously whenever a boy addressed her directly. Okay, so some expectations are greater than others.

Meanwhile, perhaps JK Rowling’s next move could be Dancing on Ice? She may not need the exposure or the pain but maybe she’d be really good at it. Just a suggestion.