The Golden Compass

I approached The Golden Compass with all of the time and energy that I was able to muster this past week, but that was unfortunately not as much as I would have wanted it to be. Due to the heavy reading load this week for class and a large amount of grading (I collected the main writing assignment for the term a week and a half ago, and have 140 3 page essays to grade which take me 10 minutes a piece), I needed to skim through Pullman’s text. I struggled for two main reasons.

The first reason that I struggled with this text is because of its plot, which is very intricate and broad at the same time. What I mean by this is that the plot of Golden Compass is very detailed; there are many characters with strange names, and the fantastical world is thoroughly examined. At the same time, as this text is the first part of a larger trilogy, this first text sets up a larger plot than one would expect from a novel of its length; there are many conflicts, and the plot takes many turns. We start at a fictional college within Oxford University, and from the onset of the story, we are privy to suspense, mystery, and deceit as we see that the house master plans to poison Lord Asriel. From there, gobblers steal Roger, and though our hero then goes on a journey to rescue Roger, we do not find answers to many questions that keep popping up for quite some time. Along the way, we meet Mrs. Coulter, Lyra receives a gift from the master we once thought was wicked, and we run into a band of gypsies that prove to be surprisingly altruistic and welcoming – especially for a group that has been outcast and traditionally shunned by society. There’s an entirely new society with its own norms and values that we are introduced to, and then we meet bears with thumbs (and find that they have their own conflict that needs resolution), and we find that daemons are getting chopped off from kids, and it has something to do with dust, and then we find out that nearly nobody is who he or she appears to be… and so on. Generally speaking, I enjoy getting really into this kind of fantasy literature where there are new worlds to get to know. I like the intricacy and the suspense. With this text, I got easily lost - and instead of turning back to an earlier chapter to reference what was happening and to answer questions that arose, I pushed through to reach the end. I assume that this has more to do with what I brought to the text (and the time that I was not able to bring to the text) than any quality that the writing itself had. I generally read very slowly but am able to recall details exceptionally well. By speeding up my pace, I missed out on comprehension.

The second reason that I struggled with this text is because of its anti-Christian undertones/overtones – another struggle that came from what I bring to the text. I was raised in a very strong Catholic family, and have a strong Christian faith today. I understand that Pullman has very strong personal objections to Christianity and its teachings; his beliefs and many of his values are fundamentally opposite. Whereas traditional Christian values mirror Milton’s Paradise Lost’s depiction of the fall of Adam and Eve and sin’s introduction into the world as being a bad thing (to simplify), Pullman’s view is that vice and flaws (sin) are what make mankind interesting – and that Adam and Eve’s temptation was a great triumph. This became a large obstacle in my engaging with the text. In addition to the text’s central themes, details existed which made it difficult for me to put my own experience on hold while reading; everything from the trilogy’s title (His Dark Materials – an excerpt from Milton) to the heroes being witches and gypsies (importance being that these are traditionally societies that did not participate in organized religion of any kind) while the villains are members of the church board. Pullman is very purposeful in his very thorough commentary on organized religion – specifically Christianity, and this purposefulness became an obstacle to me.

As I’ve mentioned in earlier reflections, I encourage my students to read for entertainment or read to learn. I did not read this text to learn, and if I were reading it for entertainment alone, I would have put the book down for another title early on; not because I took any kind of personal offense from this text (I fancy myself a reader who is mature enough to not take intertextual commentary personally), but because the content became distracting to me and hindered my full engagement with the text.