His Dark Materials — (1995-2000) Ages 9-12. The Golden Compass is titled Northern Lights outside the US. Publisher: In a landmark epic of fantasy and storytelling, Philip Pullman invites readers into a world as convincing and thoroughly realized as Narnia, Earthsea, or Redwall. Here lives an orphaned ward named Lyra Belacqua, whose carefree life among the scholars at Oxford's Jordan College is shattered by the arrival of two powerful visitors. First, her fearsome uncle, Lord Asriel, appears with evidence of mystery and danger in the far North, including photographs of a mysterious celestial phenomenon called Dust and the dim outline of a city suspended in the Aurora Borealis that he suspects is part of an alternate universe. He leaves Lyra in the care of Mrs. Coulter, an enigmatic scholar and explorer who offers to give Lyra the attention her uncle has long refused her. In this multilayered narrative, however, nothing is as it seems. Lyra sets out for the top of the world in search of her kidnapped playmate, Roger, bearing a rare truth-telling instrument, the compass of the title. All around her children are disappearing — victims of so-called "Gobblers" — and being used as subjects in terrible experiments that separate humans from their daemons, creatures that reflect each person's inner being. And somehow, both Lord Asriel and Mrs. Coulter are involved.
  
 
 The Golden Compass
The Golden Compass (or, if you follow the British print-run, Northern Lights) is the first book of Philip Pullman's extraordinary, controversial, thought-provoking, fascinating, infuriating, allegorical trilogy His Dark Materials. Followed by The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass, the books have a huge range of ideas and meanings; from exploring the bond between the body and soul, to denouncing modern religious practices, to retelling Milton's Paradise Lost from a completely different point of view. Throughout, the story is compelling and beautifully told, the source of endless debates and discussions, and a narrative with such an extreme and unique message that (even if you don't agree with it) you have to admire the sheer gall that Pullman has in delivering it within a book aimed for children.
This first part is set in a parallel world that contains England's Oxford, very much like ours but with some major differences. For starters, it feels like a turn-of-the-century time period, though more astonishing are creatures known as "daemons", who are soon revealed to be the external presence of human souls in animal forms. Every single human being has one, who is bonded inexorably to their human. In this world lives a young girl named Lyra, an orphan placed in the care of Jordan College. Lyra is a half-wild creature, who's perfectly happy in her life of exploration, fighting, telling stories and daring feats with her particular friend Roger and of course her beloved daemon Pantalaimon.
But something is slowly disrupting Lyra's happy existence, and events seem to be on the move that she cannot begin to understand. After she creeps into the men-only Retiring Room of the College she overhears an astonishing conversation that results in her saving her uncle Asriel's life. There she first hears the idea of "North." Captivated by this dream of snow, ice and the Northern Lights, Lyra is only distracted by another looming threat — creatures known as the Gobblers. Throughout the streets of England, children are disappearing, and their mysterious fates are blamed on "the Gobblers." Who or what these creatures are become vitally important to Lyra once Roger disappears, and she vows to find him and bring him back to safety.
And so, from the home of the beautiful and sinister Mrs Coulter and her vindictive golden monkey daemon, to the canal boats and fierce loyalty of the gyptains (water-gypsies), to the magnificent scope of the north, where talking armored bears roam the snow and witches fly on pine-branches through the sky, and finally into the clutches of the terrible Gobblers themselves. To guide her is a precious artifact, a device known as an altheiometer (the namesake of the book) that can answer any question posed to it by use of arrows that point to various pictures around its edge, and a mysterious substance known as "Dust," that everyone seems to hate and fear.
What is Dust? What is the link between it, daemons and children? What force causes the altheiometer to work? What are Lord Asriel's plans? What is Lyra's part to play in all of this? And what lies beyond the Northern Lights? Pullman raises a myriad of intriguing questions that keep you turning pages all through this book, and the next two. With almost effortless skill he creates the three-dimensional world of Oxford, with all its winding streets, shaky buildings and colorful characters. In terms of 'fantasy' lands, the Oxford that Pullman has created ranks up there with the best sub-created worlds in literature, and he visits it again in the small novella Lyra's Oxford.
Philip Pullman is just brimming with original and fascinating ideas, from the enigma of Dust, to the presence of daemons to the carefully constructed altheiometer that Lyra soon masters. On top of this we have a usurped bear-kingdom with a false king, a beautiful witch in love with a mortal, aging man, a Texan aeronaut who flies a balloon, and a secret concerning Lyra's own parentage. The layers and detail that Pullman manages to pack into this work is just astounding, and you can read it over and over again, finding something new each time.
Which brings me to Lyra herself. A refreshing change from the usual female-figures of literature, this young girl is bad-tempered, bratty, determined and even somewhat selfish. To a point I feel that Pullman may have gone a tad over the top in adding these emotions to his young heroine, as later on in the book it was rather hard for me to reconcile these less-than-outstanding attributes to the love and devotion that she later displays. Of course, in many ways this is a coming-of-age story, and one must start out as a spoilt child in order to grow to a deeper sense of maturity — and throughout is the presence of Pan, who often reveals the more vulnerable side to Lyra's temperament. But for any adult expecting to find a role model for their children, it's doubtful you'll find it here, as her greatest gift in life is her ability to create and maintain believable lies — and she's immensely proud of this skill!
Another word of warning — there are elements of anti-Christianity at work, especially as the series goes on. It's not too noticeable in this first book, but the Catholic Church is unfortunately portrayed in a very black light. However, unless you are an extremely close-minded and/or sensitive Christian, it's reasonably easy to read Pullman's work as a criticism against power, corruption and control rather than religion itself — and let's face it, the Catholic Church doesn't exactly have a spotless record in the course of human history. And ultimately, you don't have to agree with a book's message to enjoy reading it.
And please don't think that the "daemons" are supposed to be demonic — that's just silly. Our word "demon" is based on a Greek word "daimon" which means "soul." Yes, that's right — our word "demon" comes from a word meaning "soul"! —Rebecca Fisher
The Subtle Knife
The Subtle Knife is the second in Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, beginning with The Golden Compass and ending with The Amber Spyglass. It is an amazing piece of literature; often more suited for adult readers than for the children/young adults that it's geared toward, and with a message that — though controversial — is immensely thought provoking and worth pondering. Strangely enough, this second book is actually my favourite installment in the series; odd since middle books are often those that flounder.
At the end of The Golden Compass, Lyra and her daemon Pantalaimon walked into the Northern Lights, across the bridge Lord Asriel had made and into another world. Readers might be disconcerted therefore to begin the book without Lyra in sight. Instead, Pullman introduces us to Will Parry, a young boy who has spent his whole life trying to look inconspicuous. His father went missing when he was just a baby, and his mother is often mentally unwell — and lately strange men have been coming to the house to harass his beloved mother and investigate his absent father. Putting his mother into the care of a friendly neighbor, Will ends up finding a case of letters that the men were after, and in the scuffle that follows, one of them ends up dead. Now a fugitive and a murderer, Will takes to the streets, and finds refuge in the most astonishing place — in the middle of the footpath Will watches a cat disappear into thin air. Following it, Will climbs through a window into another world.
In the beautiful, silent, Mediterranean city known as Cittagazze Will finds a companion — Lyra, who is still on her mission to find and discover the mystery of Dust. The two compare stories and figure out their next move: Will wants to find his father, and Lyra wants a scholar that can help her untangle what Dust is, the strange substance that causes her altheiometer to answer any question she poses to it. The altheiometer tells Lyra to help Will find his father, but when her device is stolen by a strangely familiar man, the two children are faced with a new ultimatum: to fetch an artifact known as the Subtle Knife, which resides in the Torre degli Angeli in Cittagazze.
With the sound of mustering angel wings in the sky, and savage children roaming the streets, Lyra and Will face danger, intrigue, beauty and suspense in this truly wonderful sequel. Whilst Lord Asriel gathers forces to him for a war not seen since the last battle of Heaven, the terrible Mrs Coulter goes about her own sinister purposes. Lyra enlists the physicist Mary Malone to her cause by teaching her how to communicate with the conscious Dust through her computer, whilst Sir Charles Latrom plans her downfall. The witch Serafina Pekkala and her clan of witches met with Lee Scoresby the aeronaut who vows to find the elusive Stanislaus Grumman, who has valuable information for Asriel and the new bearer of the Subtle Knife.
And throughout all of this is a new, even deadlier threat — throughout the street of Cittagazze roam the Spectres, unseen by children, but deadly to adults who are subject to their very essence being devoured. Pullman effortlessly pulls these new mysteries together, enriching and expanding the worlds that he has created and piling on new facts and information to a deep and elusive pattern that the reader can barely see moving under the characters' actions. Whilst Lyra and Will go about their own activities, you can tell that insurmountable forces are rising up around them. Little touches of intrigue are everywhere: the artifacts in the museum that Lyra recognizes from her own world, or the blade of the subtle knife that is exactly that of the blade at Bolvangar. All of these details go unexplained, and serve only as tiny bits of fascinating circumstance.
Some may feel a bit put off at the change in protagonist, from Lyra to Will (who dominates this, and most of the third book), but I actually liked Will better. Most readers will prefer the feisty Lyra, but the quiet, focused Will was a character I could grasp and understand easier than Lyra. In any case, both of these characters (and Pan of course) are fundamental to the unraveling of the plot and make a great team together, especially when they combine the powers of the altheiometer and the Subtle Knife.
As I said The Subtle Knife is my favourite installment in the series, and a book you can read several times, finding deeper meaning and added detail every time. As always, the criticism Pullman poses against organized religion (in particular, the Catholic Church) is controversial, but I found it easy enough to enjoy the book without totally agreeing to its message. This gets a bit more difficult in The Amber Spyglass, when the message gets a lot more heavy-handed, but for now The Subtle Knife reads more as a remarkable adventure through several worlds where unseen forces are slowly on the move.
—Rebecca Fisher
 The Amber Spyglass
At the end of The Subtle Knife, things were dire. Lyra had been kidnapped by her mother Mrs Coulter, whilst Will was left in the company of two angels with the subtle knife (which can create windows between worlds) and the altheiometer (that communicates with the mystery substance known as 'Dust'). Refusing to accompany them to Lord Asriel, who is on the verge of war with Heaven itself, Will enlists the angels help in tracking down Lyra, and is soon joined by Iorek Byrnison, the king of the polar bears. Meanwhile, Lyra herself is forced into an enchanted sleep by her mother, whilst the powers of the Church and the Authority close in to end her life and thus the terrible threat she poses against them. When the two children are reunited, they hatch a plan to go right to the end of where the subtle knife can take them; right into death itself.
Mary Malone, who has been told that she must "play the serpent," has reached a world where elephantine creatures wheel along on giant seedpods, and may just have the final key to unraveling the mystery of Dust. Pullman brings out all of his previous creations: witches, Spectres, angels, gyptains, daemons and cliff-ghasts are all here in full force, each with a part to play in one of the most exciting, controversial, imaginative and thought-provoking books in recent history. Yet unlike the previous books, The Golden Compass and The Subtle Knife, The Amber Spyglass has a few faults that does not make it quite the awe-inspiring finale I had hoped it would be.
Out of all three books, The Amber Spyglass is the most blatantly anti-religious; in particular anti-Christian. Now, I have my own religious convictions (though what they are irrelevant to this review), and a critique of faith is hardly going to endanger them. It was easy enough for me to thoroughly enjoy a book without agreeing to its message. After all, religion is a human construct, and I'm sure I'm not the only religious person to recognize atrocities that have occurred by self-righteous fanatics in the name of 'religion'. But Philip Pullman takes this one step further and is anti-God. In his literary creation, God was not the creator, but simply the first intelligent being to come into existence. Again, I wasn't that disgruntled: I had to admire the sheer nerve Pullman displays in taking on the concept of God, and anyone who has read Paradise Lost (on which these books are based) knows that Satan comes across as an epic hero, whilst God is somewhat of a bore.
No, what bothered me about The Amber Spyglass was the general attitude held toward all religious people: at all times there is no good that can come from having faith in a deity of any kind, and no chance of a coexistence between those that have faith and those that don't. In my opinion, the key to peace on earth is not religion, nor atheism, but tolerance. Pullman displays none of this, and seems to be saying that only way to deal with religious people is with scorn and mockery. Any impressionable young reader will most likely be inspired and enlightened by Pullman's books, but on taking his standpoint, they may also adopt a negative attitude toward anyone that does not conform to atheist beliefs. Just as the stereotype of a Christian is an uptight, Bible-bashing bigot, atheists are steadily coming across as smug, arrogant dictators. Neither is particularly becoming, and the differences between the two extremes aren't really that different. I say again, tolerance is what the world needs, and Pullman shows none of this.
As well as this, there are some very basic mistakes, which come across as sloppy writing — something I thought I'd never, ever accuse Pullman of doing. Serafina is practically forgotten, and the plot thread concerning the arrow she prepares for Mrs Coulter comes to an empty conclusion. Huge amounts of time are given to preparing Asriel's army and the forces he controls, and yet we never hear the outcome of this physical battle. Lord Asriel's statement in book 1 about how he plans to destroy Dust now makes no sense, and Pullman is forced to pull a 360 and claim that Asriel was lying. Lyra claims that she overheard the witch-consul Lanselius comments on her role in the witch-prophesy. But in book 1 Pullman specifically states: "She must fulfil this destiny in ignorance of what she is doing." If she'd overheard this, then she wouldn't be in ignorance, and the prophecy negates itself. As well as this, Pullman tells us that the prophecy concerning Lyra's betrayal occurs when she leaves Pan behind when she crosses into the land of the dead. Not only do I fail to see how this was a betrayal (she had no choice!), but I thought the betrayal had occurred in book 1 when Lyra led Roger to his death. Because I thought it had already happened, my anticipation hadn't been building up for this 'real' betrayal.
Then there's the matter of the Gallivespians. Although they are wonderful creations (miniature people with poisonous spurs on their heels) the two that accompany Will and Lyra have no real purpose. The altheiometer insists that they are needed, but on close inspection all they do is convince the harpies of a deal, and get Lyra angry enough to see her Death. In other words, they do squat, at least not enough that justifies their presence, and do nothing that Will and Lyra couldn't do themselves.
At the end of the day, His Dark Materials is essential reading, and I don't think any book has stimulated my mind as much as these. Despite some faults in this final book, and an infuriating sense of superiority in the narrator's voice, I have read the trilogy numerous times and enjoy it more each time. Thanks Philip Pullman for an unforgettable, intoxicating, extraordinary read — but I'm still not an atheist. —Rebecca Fisher
 Lyra's Oxford
Everything Means Something...
First of all, if you have not read Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, then don't attempt to read this story, as you'll be utterly baffled. But if you have, you'll be treated with another glimpse into the parallel Oxford that Pullman so vividly created and explored in Northern Lights/The Golden Compass.
The book itself is beautifully presented, bound in cloth and filled with engravings of the city by John Lawrence, a style of art that perfectly matches Pullman's atmosphere of a gritty, turn-of-the-century English city. Included in the book is a quote from an Oxford guide, an introduction, the short story itself entitled "Lyra and the Birds", a map of Oxford, and then a collection of bits and pieces that may or may not mean anything: a page from a directory, a postcard from Mary Malone, and a pamphlet and timetable from a cruise ship.
The story itself is set mainly at Jordan College, two years after the events that transpired in the trilogy. Lyra is on the roof of the college when she and Pantalaimon spot a witch's daemon being attacked in the sky by a flock of starlings. Coming to its rescue, the daemon (named Ragi) claims it has come seeking her help. Its witch is very ill and only the gold elixir of the alchemist Sebastian Makepeace can help. Lyra promises to help, but there may be more going on here that she's aware of...
The story is short and sweet, with several familiar names and faces popping up, and concerning the theme of "meaning" that Pullman explores throughout the book. But primarily, Pullman seems happy in extending and exploring his marvelous Oxford — describing the streets, the architecture, the feel of the place, and I had no complaints in this regard. Pullman's Oxford is one of the most detailed and interesting created worlds in literature.
Pullman tells us in his introduction that all the things included in the book "might have come from anywhere. They might have come from other worlds" and that "all these tattered bits and pieces have a history and a meaning." That is the reader's challenge when they explore this small volume — to watch out for clues and connections within the words that may point to other subjects Pullman has touched on before.
For instance, we are told that Mary Malone's postcard was written before her involvement in the apocalyptic battle of the trilogy — and therefore the presence of the hornbeam trees on her postcard would mean nothing to her. But do they ring a bell with you...? Likewise, on a list of reading material found on the back of the map "Marisa Coulter" appears as an author, and make sure you read the page from the directory carefully — it has mention of another alchemist in it, and another strange occurrence involving him, a witch and the birds of the city...
Does all this point to more books concerning Lyra? I'm not sure. At times I thought for sure that he was hinting at something bigger to come, whilst other times I believed that the book existed simply for its own purposes. I guess only time will tell. —Rebecca Fisher
|
links. Or donate.
