Author: Philip Pullman
Titles: The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife, The Amber Spyglass
Genres: Fiction, fantasy, children’s/young adult 

Plot Summary: Young Lyra finds herself in the midst of a controversy that sparks a war between all existent universes, a war in which the common understanding of sin is challenged and in which the rebels pit themselves against God himself to end death and bring about a new sense of balance to existence. 

Initial Thoughts: The story is really entertaining. It really is. But it’s pretty much impossible to immerse yourself fully in the story, because throughout the series Pullman seems to have quite an ax to grind with organized religion, and even God himself. And while I don’t disagree with those who have problems with the Church in general, to me this very clearly not fantastical element is really distracting from all the other great elements here: come on, a knife that can cut through the fabric separating universes? A compass that reads truth? A lens that allows you to view the very spark of energy and being? Those are awesome plot devices, never mind the fighting polar bear king or the cowboy balloonist or the daemons (outward animal manifestations of a person’s character that act as life-long companions). That stuff is rad! But I had to keep snapping myself out of it to ask myself, “Wow, what is he saying about X Real Life Issue?” 

Implications of the Text:  Here’s where I find Pullman to be problematic. He didn’t step far enough away from the Real World with all its issues in order to be able to write a story we could read unfettered. He basically invites the reader to bring their own baggage with them into this story. And that’s why it’s impossible to read it and not find a few things problematic:

• Race. People of different racial backgrounds tend to be lumped together pretty distinctly. While white, English people can have varying personalities and social strata, the further away you get from that culture the more homogenous a racial culture’s representation is. I speak of the Gyptians to a lesser extent, and then of course the Tartars and other people groups later on to a greater extent. The “enemy” tribes in the North even all seem to have identical daemons. Dang. 
• Sexuality. There’s very little representation of non-heterosexual coupling in this story, and the very little there is appears strained, the characters either cliches or cowards. Baruch and Balthamos are gay angel lovers, one of whom is impossibly good and seems to be the only reason his partner ever behaves well, the other of whom is cowardly and only does the right thing later on out of grief at the loss of his partner. A more two-dimensional representation of gays I don’t think I’ve ever seen. Glee shows more depth. 
• Religion. Pullman doesn’t even try to be respectful of the beliefs of religious people here. Everyone who subscribes to religious belief in this book is, across the board, utterly and incandescently evil. There is not a shred of good to be found in the Church. God is a feeble weakling who gave His throne over long ago to a minor Biblical character who somehow became an angel. God is not creator at all, but is, in fact, an impostor: merely the oldest or first angel to come into being, and therefore the one who receives all the credit. The only person even remotely associated with the church at all who shows a shred of goodness is a woman who was once a nun but rejected her vows because she realized that she didn’t want to live with them anymore. Look, it would be hypocritical and pointless to try to say that our real life churches or organized religions haven’t been harmful and hateful and lots of bad things, but it would be just as blind and hypocritical to assert that the only things that have come of them are hatred and lies. Furthermore, Pullman seems only willing to make this argument in a fantastical stage wherein he can pick and choose which aspects of religion/Christianity he wants to address, because there are very good things he has his characters do that are straight out of Christianity (I am thinking specifically of Lyra and Will literally abolishing/ending death) but that he paints as acts of opposition to religion. 

I get it, I really, really do. I’m not exactly a devotee of any religious group myself. But the story doesn’t work for me because I’m having to machete my way through his philosophical premise first, and his premise is unrelenting. 

Because I believe in advocating for the author, I will iterate that I loved the plot devices I mentioned. I found Lord Azriel and Mrs. Coulter to be rather deliciously problematic characters, but not problematic in the way that racist issues are problematic, but rather head-scratching, I can’t make a moral judgment call on these guys, fascinating kind of problematic. I adored that the series was carried by a female character who was dynamic, not always predictable, and smart as a whip. And I liked Will. I liked that he was a kid who made sense with his back story, I liked that he felt a little like a nod to some of Susan Cooper’s characters, and I liked how… strong he was. Like Pullman didn’t need to have a “weak” character to balance out Lyra’s strength. 

So, while there were definitely elements to applaud, I had too many things I found disconcerting and troubling to really invest myself in the book. As literature, then, the books didn’t succeed with me.