His Dark Materials:
Northern Lights/The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife, The Amber Spyglass
by Philip Pullman

It's a book review! I've been meaning to do this sort of thing for a long time now. Let's begin with some middle-grade novels, shall we? I thought very seriously about reviewing each book in this series individually, but none of the books are even remotely standalone. Which is a pity, because they would receive very different reviews. Perhaps even this keeps Pullman true to his point--that the journey is the reward--but don't think this is a mixed review so much as a conditional recommendation.

Spoiler-free Recommendation

The short version is, you should read these books. Philip Pullman introduces an alternate-history Earth wherein Lyra Belacqua, a clever girl of 11, finds herself at the center of a struggle to free the universe--or rather, every universe--from the oppressive control of the mysterious Authority. Pullman's flights of fancy include armor-wearing bears, armies of broom-bound witches, and an inspired blend of steampunk and sorcery. Part theological polemic, part Paradise Lost, part coming-of-age story, His Dark Materials is also a work of remarkable depth.

Just pray you can bring yourself to finish it. Others have observed that Pullman pulls no punches, and it's true; he respects his readers and does not shield them from tragedy or agony. Unfortunately, the tragedies grow increasingly contrived. The final ten chapters do not live up to the story that makes them possible. For those who relish the journey, this is a journey you won't want to miss; but if you find that, for you, poor endings taint the entire experience, you might want to wait for the movies instead of investing your time in the books.

In-Depth Review

The long version is a little more complicated. While on its surface His Dark Materials is a fantasy retelling of Judeo-Christian creation mythos, Pullman's knife is anything but subtle.

Things start out simply enough, with a girl in an alternate universe embarking on a voyage to save her friend and find her father. She has the ability to read a special device that, in effect, knows the answer to any question you could ask. She makes friends, first with colorful travelers known as Gyptians, then with a sentient polar bear, and later still with children who have been kidnapped so that their daemons--talking, shape-shifting animal manifestations that all humans have in Lyra's world--can be cut away from them by the Magisterium, the Authority's representatives on Earth.

Throughout the first book, Pullman's jabs at organized religion are subdued, but all the more devastating for his careful aim. There are many mysteries--what the heck is Dust?--and lots of adventure. In the end, Lord Asriel--ostensibly, Lyra's guardian--opens a gate to another world.

The next two books are concerned with Will--a boy with a knife that can cut doorways into other worlds--and Lyra, how they free the legion dead from the Authority's control, how they fall in love, how they personally re-create the Fall.

What Pullman does right: First and foremost, the characters introduced in the first book carry the series. Later characters are not as interesting; Dr. Mary Malone, for example, never achieves the bright clarity of characters like Lee Scoresby or Iorek Byrnison. But the balloonist and the armored bear are fabulous; I could always empathize with Lyra's joy at seeing either of these great characters. Lyra's parents, her daemon, even the Master of Jordan College interesting and compelling.

Pullman also (perhaps unknowingly?) paints a more symbolic but nonetheless compelling picture of something known as Openness Theology, wherein God's foreknowledge is sacrificed so that humans can experience genuine free will and God may even be embodied so as to better relate with His creations. His portrayal of the Kingdom of Heaven doing battle with the Republic of Heaven (as set up by Lord Asriel) is most enjoyable. Pullman is a vocal critic of organized religion, but no stranger to spirituality, so his message is as thought-provoking as it is unique.

And clever literary critics will be teasing meaning out of these books for decades to come. The way daemons are employed to represent worse deeds than Pullman wants to explicitly portray, sometimes as a metaphor for spirit and other times as a metaphor for sexuality, is brilliantly executed.

Where Pullman comes up short: The problem seems to be that Pullman doesn't want anyone to miss his brilliant points, so he occasionally resorts to beating readers over the head. It seems odd to use the daemons to metaphorically represent sexuality and discuss how the Magisterium wants to "cut" daemons away from their masters... only to explicitly discuss castration and female circumcision in a later scene. Pullman is said to "trust" his readers by giving them tragedy, but he does not trust anyone to interpret his metaphors.

But speaking of tragedy, Pullman doesn't seem to know the difference between honest tragedy and tragedy for its own sake. Perhaps the greatest tragedy in the entire series--the permanent separation of the two main characters--is built entirely on an unnecessary rule of Pullman's cosmos, a rule never even hinted at until halfway through the third book. Furthermore, when readers are told that one character was born specifically to bring an end to fate and destiny, it doesn't make any sense for someone to explain at the end of the series that the tragedy is unavoidable because no one can escape their destiny.

I am a great lover of bittersweet endings, make no mistake. But Pullman does not expose his readers to tragedy so much as he inflicts it upon them, anxious to cram yet another manufactured lesson into books that wax just a tad pedantic.

The Final Analysis

Pullman's undertaking is tremendous, and so it is easy to forgive him when he stumbles. The more you know of philosophy and theology, the richer these books will be; but children as young as 7 or 8 will doubtless enjoy the worlds Pullman has cleverly constructed, and older children will easily recognize which pages to skip when grown-up characters commence their preaching. I recommend these books to anyone looking for a deeper alternative to the saccharine fare we normally cram down our middle-graders' throats, but remember to enjoy the ride, because when you're ready for the fire to burn brightest, it will sputter out entirely.