Hey, kids! Welcome back to the Book Report.

Last week I talked about a book listed as the second most loved book in the United Kingdom. Today, I want to talk a bit about the series listed at #3 on the list: His Dark Materials.

Paradise lost or Freedom gained?

British author and professor Philip Pullman wrote the series to be a retelling and inversion of Milton’s Paradise Lost poem, commending humanity for what Milton took to be their most tragic failing. The title of the series comes from a line in the poem:

Into this wilde Abyss,
The Womb of nature and perhaps her Grave,
Of neither Sea, nor Shore, nor Air, nor Fire,
But all these in their pregnant causes mixt
Confus’dly, and which thus must ever fight,
Unless th’ Almighty Maker them ordain
His dark materials to create more Worlds,
Into this wilde Abyss the warie fiend
Stood on the brink of Hell and look’d a while,
Pondering his Voyage; for no narrow frith
He had to cross. (Book 2, lines 910–920)

Pullman published the first book of the series, Northern Lights, in 1995 (released in America as The Golden Compass). It tells the story of a young girl, Lyra Belacqua, embarking on a fantastic voyage that by the end of the series shakes the very fabric of creation. She lives in a London very similar to ours, with the exception of a few key differences.
Visually, Lyra’s Oxford has the look of 19th Century London: the height of the British Empire and the fantastic wonders built during the Industrial Revolution. Except in her world they already have an understanding of particle physics, which they call “experimental theology”. This is a world which found a way to wed science and religion together, rather than the rigid separation we have in our world.
The religion of this London, called the Magisterium, bears many similarities to the Roman Catholic Church, though it is a church that never had to struggle against a Protestant Reformation (indeed, at one point, John Calvin was referred to as a pope!), and its connection to science and politics allows for a more visual form of corruption that perhaps we are used to in our world.
Perhaps the most striking difference in Lyra’s world are the daemons (pronounced “demons”). Every person has one, and they are (with the rare exception) the opposite gender of the person. Each daemon appears as an animal, and a look at the animal can often tell you much about the attitude of the person. The best way to describe daemons would be to think of them as a combination of a physical representation of the soul of a person mixed in with Jung’s idea of anima and animus. There is much greater depth I could go into concerning daemons, but I fear that I might spoil some of the story to do so. Suffice to say, the concept of daemons is a fascinating, in-depth mixture of psychology and religious ideas that enlivens Lyra’s world and makes it unique in the realm of literature.

da Vinci’s “Lady With an Ermine” was an inspiration for daemons.

While critics have compared Pullman’s series favorably to Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time series and Katherine Paterson’s Bridge to Terabithia, he rejects any comparisons to C.S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia, even suggesting his books are a defiant response to Lewis’s books, which he has called “blatantly racist”, “disparaging of women”, “immoral” and “evil”.
Pullman’s work has received some controversial criticism, though by no means as much as other popular children’s fantasy. Pullman himself has stated, “I’ve been surprised by how little criticism I’ve got. Harry Potter’s been taking all the flak… Meanwhile, I’ve been flying under the radar, saying things that are far more subversive than anything poor old Harry has said. My books are about killing God”. Cynthia Grenier, in Catholic Culture, wrote: “In the world of Pullman, God Himself is a merciless tyrant. His Church is an instrument of oppression, and true heroism consists of overthrowing both.” William A. Donohue of the Catholic League has described Pullman’s trilogy as “atheism for kids” and called for a boycott.
Most of Pullman’s criticism against God, however, is really more of a criticism against organized religion and the god that might allow much of the monstrosities that have been committed in his name. “I suppose,” he said, “technically, you’d have to put me down as an agnostic. But if there is a God, and He is as the Christians describe Him, then He deserves to be put down and rebelled against”.

Could the Fall of Man have been the best thing to have happened to us?

Pullman’s series has made the transition to other media successfully. In 2003, Nicholas Hytner directed a two-part, six hour version of the series for the London stage (part one combined Northern Lights and most of book two, The Subtle Knife. Part two finished off what was left of book two and all of the last book, The Amber Spyglass). The play was very successful, and two successful revivals followed.
In 2007, New Line Cinema released an adaption of the first book, using the American title The Golden Compass. The film did well worldwide, but American box office returns disappointed producers, and so far no sequels are planned.

The depth of religion, psychology, theology, and philosophy found in Pullman’s novels has spawned much commentary. More than fifteen novels by various religious and philosophy writers, among others, have been published concerning his series. His Dark Materials, while ultimately written for children, contain such an amazing array of ideas wrapped in a truly satisfying story that adults will enjoy the experience just as much as any child.

Hey, kids! Akatzen here with another Book Report. If you haven’t checked out Mythoi Birth: Yuki then stop what you are doing and go read it. Seriously, off you go.

Back? Excellent! On with the Report.

In 1985, Walt Disney Pictures released their first animated feature to use computer-generated imagery. It was also their first feature to switch from a Xerography process of animation to an APT process of animation. It was also the most expensive animated feature made up until then. It was also the first animated Disney film to earn a PG rating. It was also a box office failure.
The film I’m talking about is The Black Cauldron, written and directed by Ted Berman and Richard Rich (the team that also made Disney’s The Fox and The Hound).

Of course, when I say “written and directed”, what I really mean is “adapted and directed”. The movie is very loosely based on the first two books of Lloyd Alexander’s five-book series The Chronicles of Prydain (published 1964–1968): The Book of Three and The Black Cauldron. The other books are The Castle of Llyr, Taran Wanderer, and The High King. An additional novel, The Foundling and Other Tales From Prydain was published in 1973.

The collection is for young readers, though I think they belong in the same category as The Chronicles of Narnia and Harry Potter as far as fantasy that young readers will enjoy. This critically acclaimed series is a great stepping stone towards high fantasy of greater scope and maturity. When The High King was released in 1969, the book won the Newberry Medal for “the most distinguished contribution to American literature for children”.

As for the story, the series draws heavily on Welsh mythology, particularly the Mabinogion. However, Alexander himself is quick to point out in an Author’s Note that while the Mabinogion and other Welsh mythology inspired the Chronicles, “Prydain is a country existing only in the imagination.“
And when I say the Chronicles are inspired by Welsh mythology, I mean that the same way films do when they are “inspired by true events”. Names, places, items, and events were lifted straight out of the Welsh mythos and placed into these stories. Alexander then takes heavy artistic license with them.

Gwydion, for instance, is hardly as noble and virtuous in Welsh mythology as he is portrayed in the book. Quite often he is portrayed as a trickster and rogue. In the Fourth Branch of the Mabinogi he even helps his brother rape King Math’s foot-holder.
Arawn, the equivalent in Prydain of Middle-Earth’s Sauron, is also not nearly as evil as he is portrayed in the books.
Hopefully, young readers impressed with the story will seek out the original stories, learning in the process a wealth of history and folklore covering not only Welsh mythology but also the origins of many Arthurian legends.
In particular, the titles of the first three novels mention aspects of Welsh mythology that have filtered into other cultures and even into other religions.

The Book of Three: You ever wonder where the Trinity came from? If you answered “The Matrix” then I like your sense of humor. If you answered “The Bible” then you are wrong. The concept of one god existing in separate aspects at the same time does not appear anywhere in the Bible (though, to be fair, there are many verses which imply that it is at least possible). Where this concept does appear, is in Welsh, Celtic, and Norse mythology. The Fates (or The Norns, in Norse mythology), are three women, one knowing all there is to know about the past, one who knows the present, and one to see the future. Sometimes they are portrayed as weavers, spinning out the threads of our lives. In the Chronicles, three weird sisters (Macbeth, anyone?) make an appearance bearing distinct similarities.
There is also a Book of Three, containing “all that was ever known, and all that will ever be known”. Perhaps one of the Christian church’s most holy ideas comes from the “pagan” religions it suppressed and integrated.

The Black Cauldron: The title of the second book comes from a large kettle which can bring back to life anyone placed within it. In the original mythology, the cauldron was a benevolent gift from Arawn, King of Annwn (which eventually turned into Avalon in Arthurian legend, and is directly responsible for much of the early Church’s ideas about Heaven). In the Chronicles the cauldron became an evil thing, however in the original Welsh mythology, the Cauldron represented miraculous healing powers. If this sounds a bit like what The Holy Grail can do, there’s a good reason for it.

The Castle of Llyr: Probably the most obscure of the titles, perhaps the name of this Welsh sea-god is more familiar when it is spelled “Lear”. The original Welsh tale has very little to do with the story Shakespeare wrote (who got the idea from Geoffrey of Monmouth’s highly fictional History of the Kings of Britain), but Lear’s origin is distinctly Welsh.

The main value in the series (beyond its entertainment value) is that, like so much of High Fantasy as a genre (though not, generally, Fantasy for children), the books are a Bildungsroman (German: “novel of education”). The phrase comes from the German Enlightenment, and is used to describe a coming-of-age type of novel where the protagonist undergoes psychological, moral, and social growth.

This is what sets these books apart from Narnia, Harry Potter, Eragon, and even (depsite their excellence) His Dark Materials.
Taran, the main character of The Chronicles of Prydain, is an Assistant Pig-Keeper. Like the Hobbits in The Lord of the Rings, Taran dreams of being something bigger (pun intended). Other children’s fantasy tends to make the main character “heroic” right off the bat, so they can go do amazing things. Taran, on the other hand, gets caught up in a conflict he is neither equipped nor ready to handle. Out of that conflict comes his growth towards adulthood.
How like real life is that? As an example for children to follow, Taran is a much better candidate than Harry Potter. As Lloyd Alexander himself puts it:

“Such things never happen in real life. Or do they? Most of us are called upon to perform tasks far beyond what we believe we can do. Our capabilities seldom match our aspirations, and we are often woefully unprepared. To this extent, we are all Assistant Pig-Keepers at heart.”

For the adult reader, The Chronicles of Prydain can do much to extend an appreciation for High Fantasy as a genre. These books also do much to encourage the growth of the imagination, as they cater to a child’s imagination, where so much more than the laws of physics and the responsibilities of life are possible. And perhaps it is possible also to come away from these books learning a thing or two.