Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy is about to get a new adaptation this fall, with the BBC and HBO distributing a television series based on the three books, starting with The Golden Compass (also known as Northern Lights). That book also appeared on the Guardian‘s list of the 100 greatest novels ever written that I’ve sort of been working my way through, which seemed to make this an apposite time to start Pullman’s work with this book, which is a cold, dispassionate counter to the very fantasy novels Pullman seems most apt to criticize. It appeared on the Guardian‘s list of the 100 greatest novels that I’ve been working my way through the last few years.
The protagonist is Lyra Belacqua, around 11 or 12 years old at the start of the book, whose somewhat idyllic life in a castle in England in a universe parallel to our own is interrupted both by the mystery of children vanishing around London and the arrival of an enigmatic woman, Mrs. Coulter, who takes a specific interest in Lyra’s future. In this universe, all humans have familiars known as “daemons” who can shapeshift while their humans are young but who eventually take on a permanent form when their persons reach adulthood. The mystery of the children, which of course eventually merges with the story of Mrs. Coulter (and more), appears connected to something known as Dust as well as to the phenomenon of aurora borealis, colloquially known as the northern lights. The quest to solve the mystery takes Lyra on a voyage north to the archipelago Svalbard, which (in our universe) hosts the northernmost permanent human settlement on earth, on board a vessel filled with “gyptians” (essentially Roma), some of whom have lost children to the kidnappers.
The plot, however, has much more going for it, although much of the question at its heart remains unresolved at the end of the first book. The conceit involves the many-worlds hypothesis of quantum physics, although the exact mechanism by which it works in the books isn’t revealed in the first part of the trilogy – discovering that is tied into the various mysteries of the missing children and Mrs. Coulter. Pullman abjectly despises C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia, writing in a 1998 essay of “the misogyny, the racism, the sado-masochistic relish for violence that permeates the whole cycle” of Lewis’ books, and at the very least he’s right about the violence part. There’s some violence in The Golden Compass, but it’s secondary to most of the action and is never glorified. What Pullman doesn’t mention in his essay is his antipathy for Lewis’ specific version of Christianity; in response, his novels rely not on myth but on science, trading elements of fantasy for the grounding of science fiction, but in the process he loses some of the whimsy of better fantasy series like the Harry Potter novels or even the more mature Magicians trilogy.
The second book in the series shifts the setting to our version of earth, and the third combines the two to finish the story. I’m mixed on whether I’ll continue; I’m a completist by nature and hate dropping series without finishing, but I’m also not driven to complete Lyra’s story or see how Pullman resolves the Dust mystery.
Next up: Hilary Mantel’s first Booker-winning novel, Wolf Hall.
Highly recommend finishing the series. I felt the same way after the first book (which I also read for the first time as an adult), but had a good friend urge me to continue. I was glad I did; there is so much in books two and three by way of Lyra’s growing up and added dimensionality to her character. The “mystery” of Dust has a profound and wonderful resolution (if one can call it that—see book three). And, plot-wise, books two and three are much more thrilling. I’ll also add that for YA fiction, I believe this is one of the most beautiful and heart-wrenching endings to a love story.
Somewhat surprised at this review– Lyra never seemed “inert” to me in any read (or listen– for anyone who enjoys audiobooks, the versions produced for this series are exceptional). I will say, the last time I went through this book, I was struck by the number of scenes where two or more characters sit around discussing Lyra, without her being present, and each discussion can best be summed up as “BOY THAT LYRA SURE IS IMPORTANT, HUH?”
I would recommend finishing the series, Keith, but, and I cannot stress this enough, the third book is BONKERS. To the point where I have no idea how it’ll make for a coherent television show.
I agree with everything Justin said, and I developed tremendous emotional investment in the main characters by the end of the trilogy.
To be honest if you didn’t love the first, I wouldn’t continue with the series. I thought the first was pretty good but got diminishing returns on books two and three. It is strange material for an adaptation.
On the other hand, I LOVED Wolf Hall, I also enjoyed Bring up the Bodies quite a bit (the PBS/BBC mini-series adaptation I think covers both books, it is very well done) and very much look forward to book three of the trilogy.
This is all interesting and helpful (all of your comments), so thank you.
I didn’t love Fludd but 20 pages into Wolf Hall I have already found her writing to be smoother.
I’m re-reading this aloud to my 12 year old now and he’s into it. First read it about 20 years ago and mildly enjoyed book one but really loved books 2 and 3. Book one is colder and darker than I remember. But I recall very strong and emotional connections to the characters beginning with book 2. I’m looking forward to reading the next two with my son.
I read this book 20 years ago and wrote an essay about why I thought it was a good children’s book, including the allure of Lyra as a charismatic child protagonist, so…your opinion may diverge wildly from mine. But I found Book 2 a little bit of a slog, though with a different primary protagonist who was perhaps more relatable, and Book 3 to be a total disaster in almost every respect. If I had it all to do over again, I’d stop with Book 1 and let my imagination write the rest of the story from there.