his dark materials

“We are all subjects to the fates. But we must all act as if we are not”, said the witch, “or die of despair.”

Content:
The “His Dark Materials” trilogy (I. The Golden Copass; II. The Subtle Knife; III. The Amber Spyglass) by Philip Pullman is a story about multiple worlds, that slowly start to decay. Things don’t work as they used to, and Lyra, a child from Oxford and the daughter of Lord Azriel and Mrs. Coulter, who have all three big parts to play in the events to come, travels through her world, through other worlds and even through the land of the dead to find out that there is a war to come, a war to be fought between the followers of “the authority” and rebels from all universes who have joined to end its tyranny. On her journey she meets explorers and warriors, armored bears, witches, tree people, angels, and in the end even “the authority” itself …

Style:
On the one hand it is said that the trilogy was written for children, in a very metaphoric, colorful, touching and vivid style, and on the other hand Pullman himself writes that his work was mainly inspired by William Blake and John Milton. You could say that the books have 2 layers: one with a story of a child traveling through worlds, and another one with very philosophical references and clues (the second layer becomes more obvious the farther the plot moves on, starting in the second book really). The story is, on the second layer, extremely critical of the church, of religions and the whole concept of god, and I wonder how this trilogy could be such a huge success, worldwide, being that critical.
I’ve read a lot of fantasy and fiction, but I have yet to find another writer who manages to introduce an alien people that completely (the tree people) – who they are, what they do, how they live, how they communicate – and give the reader the immersive impression of being there, and living with this people.

Rating:
1

Quotations:

“Will considered what to do. When you choose one way out of many, all the ways you don’t take are snuffed out like candles, as if they’d never existed. At the moment all Will’s choices existed at once – but to keep them all in existence meant doing nothing. He had to choose, after all.”

“Balthamos was slender; his narrow wings were folded elegantly behind his shoulders, and his face bore an expression that mingled haughty disain with a tender, ardent sympathy, as if he would love all things if only his nature could let him forget their defects.”

“Then she was pressing her little proud broken self against his face, as close as she could get, and then they died.”

“You fought for the knife?”
- “Yes, but …”
“Then you’re a warrior. That’s what you are. Argue with anything else, but don’t argue with your own nature.”

“What we found out when we come here, oh, long ago for most of us, we found we all brought our deaths with us. This is where we found out. We had ‘em all the time, and we never knew. See, everyone has a death. It goes everwhere with ‘em, all their life long, right close by. Our deaths, they’re outside, taking the air; they’ll come in by and by. Granny’s death, he’s there with her, he’s close to her, very close.”

You don’t know who he was … he was my father!
- No. No! That can’t be true. Impossible!
You think things have to be possible? Things have to be true!