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Philip Pullman's remarkable trilogy His Dark Materials are among those rare books that bridge the gap between juvenile and adult fiction, accessible to young readers while respecting their intelligence, as well as the intelligence and sophistication of adult readers who may be lured to the novels by the promise of the evocation of lost childhood wonders. In many ways they read like the elder siblings of J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter novels, though Pullman's fantasy is much less whimsical than Rowling's, threatening to provoke the kinds of philosophical musings in young minds that they aren't very likely to get from their regular diet of escapism. But Pullman outdoes Rowling in the high adventure department as well; the first novel of this trilogy is a dazzling modern fantasy masterpiece by the standards of any reader, of any age.
Set in a stunningly realized world described as "like ours, but different in many ways," The Golden Compass (British title: Northern Lights) tells the story of nine-year-old Lyra Belacqua, a ward of Jordan College set in this alternate Earth's alternate England. Jordan College specializes in the esoteric study of "experimental theology," and this is one of the many examples of Pullman's wholly original approach to combining the real and the unreal. In Pullman's world, every living person has a "daemon," an animal familiar that changes shape at will all through the person's childhood, but which settles into one form upon their puberty. Intercision — to be separated from one's daemon — is a tragedy too horrible to contemplate; it's as if the very essence of life itself is erased from the unfortunate victim. Pullman subtly introduces all of the fantasy elements of his story in such a way that we are drawn into the tale naturally, rather than by having the story put on hold for chapters at a time so that we can be filled in on backstory. For instance, electricity in Pullman's world is called "anbaric power." We aren't informed of this. We're simply able to figure it out through the context of the narrative, the true sign of an artist who respects his audience.
Lyra is far more interested in playing, exploring, and goofing off than in studying, but all of that changes one fateful day when she learns her uncle, one Lord Asriel, is coming to the college. She sneaks into a forbidden meeting room to overhear what he might have to say to the heads of the school. Instead, from her hiding place she witnesses an attempt by the Master to poison Lord Asriel, which she manages to foil just in time.
Gradually, Lyra begins to learn of a mysterious particle found in the extreme north known only as Dust. Dust is thought by Lord Asriel and others to be a link to another world, perhaps another whole universe, and yet the Papacy, which controls virtually every aspect of day-to-day life much as it did in the Middle Ages, naturally feels its dogma threatened by this potential fact. Thus a planned expedition to the north by Lord Asriel is held in disfavor by some very powerful people, to say the least.
Lyra's life becomes even more interesting when she learns she is to leave the school with the beautiful and exotic Mrs. Coulter, who knows Lord Asriel and seems to have a deep and abiding interest in his studies. But before Lyra leaves the school, she is given a gift by the Master: a device called an "alethiometer," designed much like a golden compass, except with multiple hands and arcane symbols surrounding its face. This device, she learns, simply tells the truth, although it is used intuitively and almost subconsciously; Lyra is able to use it unfailingly to divine the facts behind any matter, but she cannot say exactly how she makes it work. Of course, it transpires that Lyra is involved deeply with Lord Asriel's expedition, and will play a prominent role in its outcome, though exactly what that outcome will be remains to be seen.
Pullman combines the traditional sense-of-wonder that one expects to find in epic adventure stories with an atmosphere of elegant eerieness and dreamlike portent. The effect is almost intoxicating. Few fantasists this side of Clark Ashton Smith or A. Merritt have managed to evoke it so effectively. Memorable characters, settings, and scenes simply spill from this story like fruit from the fabled horn of plenty. Readers will find themselves as stimulated intellectually as they are emotionally as they follow Lyra's odyssey into the frozen north, accompanied by her ever-faithful daemon and Iorek Byrnison, an armor-plated, intelligent polar bear of the panserbjørne race. Iorek figures in one of the most incredible battle scenes it has ever been my wide-eyed pleasure to read.
This novel and its sequels have earned Pullman multiple awards, including England's prestigious Carnegie Medal. It even earned a place on the Observer's list of the "100 Greatest Novels of All Time" (it was #98). But don't allow yourself to be affected positively or negatively by all the hype; go in to this story expecting an exhilarating, magical adventure, and that's exactly what you will receive. Trust me. The compass never lies.
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By Roger Ebert
"The Golden Compass" is a darker, deeper fantasy epic than the "Rings" trilogy, "The Chronicles of Narnia" or the "Potter" films. It springs from the same British world of quasi-philosophical magic, but creates more complex villains and poses more intriguing questions. As a visual experience, it is superb. As an escapist fantasy, it is challenging. Teenagers may be absorbed and younger children may be captivated; some kids in between may be a little conflicted, because its implications are murky.
They weren't murky in the original 1995 novel, part of the His Dark Materials trilogy by Philip Pullman, a best seller in Britain, less so here. Pullman's evil force, called the Magisterium in the books, represents organized religion, and his series is about no less than the death of God, who he depicts as an aged, spent force. This version by New Line Cinema and writer-director Chris Weitz ("About a Boy") leaves aside religion and God, and presents the Magisterium as sort of a Soviet dictatorship or Big Brother. The books have been attacked by American Christians over questions of religion; their popularity in the U.K. may represent more confident believers whose response to other beliefs is to respond, rather than suppress.
For most families, such questions will be beside the point. Attentive as I was, I was unable to find anything anti-religious in the movie, which works above all as an adventure. The film centers on a young girl named Lyra (Dakota Blue Richards), in an alternative universe vaguely like Victorian England. An orphan raised by the scholars of a university not unlike Oxford or Cambridge, she is the niece of Lord Asriel (Daniel Craig), who entrusts her with the last surviving Alethiometer, or Golden Compass, a device that quite simply tells the truth. The Magisterium has a horror of the truth, because it represents an alternative to its thought control; the battle in the movie is about no less than man's preservation of free will.
Lyra's friend Roger (Ben Walker) disappears, one of many recently kidnapped children, and Lyra hears rumors that the Magisterium has taken them to an Arctic hideaway. At her college, she meets Mrs. Coulter (Nicole Kidman), who suspiciously offers her a trip to the north aboard one of those fantasy airships that looks like it may be powered by steam. And the adventure proper begins.
I should explain that in this world, everyone has a spirit, or daemon, which is visible, audible and accompanies them everywhere. When they are with children, these spirits are shape-shifters, but gradually they settle into a shape appropriate for the adult who matures. Lyra's is a chattering little creature who can be a ferret, mouse, fox, cat, even a moth. When two characters threaten each other, their daemons lead the fight.
Turns out the Magisterium is experimenting on the captured children by removing their souls and using what's left as obedient servants without free will. Lyra challenges this practice, after taking the advice of the grizzled pilot Lee Scoresby (Sam Elliott) to find herself an armored bear. She enlists the magnificent bear Iorek, who must duel to the death with the top bear of the north. She also finds such friends as a flying witch named Serafina (Eva Green) and some pirate types named Gyptians, whose lifestyle resembles seafaring gypsies.
The struggle involves a mysterious cosmic substance named Dust, which embodies free will and other properties the Magisterium wants to remove from human possibility. By "mysterious," I mean that Dust appears throughout the movie as a cloud of dancing particles, from which emerge people, places and possibilities, but I have no idea under which rules it operates. Possibly it represents our human inheritance if dogma did not interfere.
As Lyra, Dakota Blue Richards is a delightful find, a British-American schoolgirl who was 12 when she was discovered in an audition involving 10,000 girls. She is pretty, plucky, forceful, self-possessed, charismatic, and just about plausible as the mistress of an armored bear and the protector of Dust. Nicole Kidman projects a severe beauty in keeping with the sinister Mrs. Coulter (had Pullman heard about our girl Ann when he wrote his book?), and Daniel Craig and Sam Elliott (with his famous moustache never more formidable) give her refined and rough surfaces to play against.
The cast is jammed with the usual roll call of stage and screen greats, some of them in person, some of them voice-over talent: Christopher Lee, Tom Courtenay, Derek Jacobi, Simon McBurney, Ian McKellen, Ian McShane, Kathy Bates, Kristin Scott Thomas. The British fantasy industry has become a bigger employer even than the old Hammer horror films. And why is it, by the way, that such tales seem to require British accents?
I realize this review itself may be murky, because theological considerations confuse the flow. Let me just say that I think "The Golden Compass" is a wonderfully good-looking movie, with exciting passages and a captivating heroine in Lyra. That the controversy surrounding it obscures its function as a splendid entertainment. That for adults, it will not be boring or too simplistic. And that I still don't understand how they know what the symbols on the Golden Compass represent, but it certainly seems articulate.
A useful discussion of Pullman's novels and their translation to the screen is at www.theatlantic.com/doc/200712/religious-movies.
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