Table of Contents
Interviews & Essays
The Man Behind the Magic: An Interview with Philip Pullman
Barnes & Noble.com: Who is your favorite character to write and why?
Philip Pullman: I like them all, of course. People are surprised when I say that I like Mrs. Coulter, but what I mean, of course, is that I like writing about her, because she’s so completely free of any moral constraint. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do, and that’s a great delight for a storyteller, because it means your story can be unconstrained, too. I’m not sure I’d like to know her in real life (well, of course I would; she’d be fascinating). Writers have always enjoyed the villains, and so do readers, if they’re honest.
B&N.com: Can you give us some insight into what daemons are? Why don’t non-humans have them? They're a fascinating idea -- I wish I had one.
PP: I was discovering more about daemons all the way through -- right up to the very end of The Amber Spyglass. And I’m sure there are other aspects of them that I haven’t discovered yet. I don’t want to say anything about them which will give away some of the plot of the final book, but I will say that the daemon is that part of you that helps you grow towards wisdom. I don’t know where the idea of them came from -- it just emerged as I was trying to begin the story. I suddenly realized that Lyra had a daemon, and it all grew out of that. Of course, the daemons had to represent something important in the meaning of the story, and not be merely picturesque; otherwise they’d just get in the way. So there is a big difference between the daemons of children and adults, because the story as a whole is about growing up, or innocence and experience.
Underlying the whole story is a myth of origin and creation, which I discovered as I wrote. I don’t make it explicit anywhere, but I relied on it all the way through. It explains where daemons come from and why we have them. I’m thinking of doing a sort of companion volume, which would be a natural place for that myth to be written down, so watch this space!
B&N.com: "It was so beautiful it was almost holy" -- this how Lyra's first impression of the Northern Lights is described in The Golden Compass. Have you ever seen the Northern Lights?
PP: No, I haven’t. But I’ve been to Edmonton in Alberta on three separate occasions, and each time it was a beautiful, clear night and the people said we were bound to see them, they turned up every night, it was just the right time of year, there was no question of it, they were here last night, you should have seen them, you could bet your life they’ll give a good show tonight, and so on and so on. And did they show up? Not a flicker. I’m beginning to think they’re just one of these travelers’s tales.
B&N.com: Why did you decide to set the story in a world that is similar to our own, but not quite the same?
PP: There are many answers.... Laziness, perhaps. I couldn’t be bothered to do enough research to set a story in the real world and get it all right, so I just used the stuff I already knew and made up the rest. That might be one answer. Or else: I was too idle to make up a complete new world, so I just made up some of it and when I ran out of energy I used some other stuff I knew about the real world. That might be another.
Another answer might be that I thought it would be more intriguing for the reader -- except that I don’t think about my readers very much, so that wouldn’t be altogether true.
Another might be that I like reading that sort of book myself, so I just did the sort of thing I liked reading. But in fact I don’t know many other books that have this sort of background, so that wouldn’t be completely true either.
Another might be that I didn’t actually choose it at all. The story came to me in this form and with this setting, and I had no say in the matter. I just had to do what it said. And that would be the truest answer, perhaps. But there’s a bit of truth in all of them.
B&N.com: Why do you think fantasy literature is so appealing to adults as well as to children?
PP: I haven’t the faintest idea. Oddly enough, it doesn’t appeal to me very much; I read very little fantasy. I prefer straightforward realism, and I like that because I can connect with it, because I feel it tells me about important things, because it’s real, because it’s true. So it’s no use asking me why fantasy appeals to other people. You’d have to ask them!
B&N.com: Did you write His Dark Materials with a specific age group in mind?
PP: No. I don’t think about the readers at all. If I think about the audience I’d like to have, I don’t think about a particular age group, or a particular gender, or a particular class or ethnic group or anything specific at all. I’d like the largest audience possible, please. When you say, “This book is for children”, what you’re understood as saying is “This book is NOT for adults.” I don’t want that. I’d like to think that I’m telling the sort of story that holdeth children from play and old men from the chimney corner, in the old phrase of Sir Philip Sidney. Everyone is welcome, and no one is shut out, and I hope each reader will find a tale worth spending time with.
B&N.com: The main hero of your trilogy is Lyra -- a loveable, extremely impressive girl/young woman who has a large task on her hands. It's said by the people who have insight into Lyra's importance that she must fulfill her destiny without knowing what her destiny is. Can you explain why?
PP: Because it’s her nature that has to make a choice, not her conscience. If she knows that she’s about to do something fateful, her awareness, her self-consciousness will get in the way and spoil everything. So it’s a very delicate balance that has to be kept.
B&N.com: How much will you miss the characters now that you’ve finished the story?
PP: A huge amount. I’ve lived with them for seven years; in another sense I’ve lived with them all my life because everything I’ve ever learned has gone into this book. It was very hard letting it go. I kept wanting to call it back and adjust this bit or that, but you have to let go in the end. Lyra and Will and the others are on their own now. I hope they find old friends, and make new ones.
Reading Group Guide
1. The author tells us that The Golden Compass takes place "in a universe like ours, but different in many ways." How do you think Lyra's universe relates to ours?
2. What is a dæmon? How do they make humans different from other creatures? Why do you think servants' dæmons are always dogs? What sort of dæmons might your friends, relatives, classmates, or coworkers have? Describe your own dæmon.
3. The world of The Golden Compass is ruled by the Church. However, the nature of its power is unclear. What power do you think the Church holds over its people?
4. On pages 89-90, the General Oblation Board is explained in reference to the historical sacrifice of children to cloistered life. "Oblation" refers to the act of making a religious offering. What offering does the General Oblation Board make and to whom?
5. Human knowledge and experience are made physical in Dust. What other psychological, intellectual, or spiritual activities does the author physicalize?
6. What is the relationship between "severing" and death? Is the author using this fantasy to explore the notion of psychic or moral death?
7. Why do you think the author stresses that Lyra is not an imaginative child? Why would "imagination" be dangerous to her? How would it affect her understanding of the alethiometer? Is Lyra a truth-seeker? Who is Lyra Belacqua and/or what does she symbolize?
8. In what ways is gender a significant or stratifying element in the novel? Why do you think all witches are female? Why are dæmons usually the opposite gender of their human counterparts? Is the fact that Lyra is agirl-child relevant to the themes of the story?
9. Alongside human society in The Golden Compass, there exists the community of the armored bears, who have their own hierarchical structure and moral code. In one way Svalbard seems little more than an interesting foil to the human condition, yet the bear kingdom is also a final destination, the site of the story's climactic conclusion. What do you think is the author's purpose in inventing - and exploring - the world of the armored bear?
10. The author has filled this novel with binary imagery: person-dæmon; mother-father; Iorek-Iofur; Lyra's universe-the universe in the Aurora. What other binarisms can you find in the structure, landscape imagery, and vocabulary of this fantasy? How do these dualistic elements affect the novel's larger themes?
11. Discuss Lyra's "betrayal" of Roger in relation to other betrayals that occur in the novel. Has reading The Golden Compass altered your understanding of the act of betrayal?
12. Are Lord Asriel and Mrs. Coulter in collusion or are they fighting each other? How and in what way?
13. Curiously absent from The Golden Compass are four words that are prevalent in most fantasy adventures: right, wrong, good, and evil. Can these terms be applied to this story? How and why, or why not?
14. On the last page of the book, Lyra and Pantalaimon recognize that they are still "one being; both of us are one." The expression resonates with a phrase from marriage ceremonies. Contrast this moment in the story with the preceding interplay between Lyra's parents.
15. The Golden Compass is the first book in the trilogy His Dark Materials, which gets its name from a passage in John Milton's Paradise Lost, quoted at the beginning of the novel. Philip Pullman has said, "Milton's angels are not seriously meant to be believed - beings with wings and halos and white robes. They are psychological qualities, conceived and pictured as personalities. With them, Milton tells one of the central tales of our world: the story of the temptation and fall of humankind." Discuss the passage from Paradise Lost and this statement from the author in relation to The Golden Compass.
16. When Lyra walks "into the sky" at the end of Book One, we can presume that she is walking into the world of Book Two of His Dark Materials - "the universe that we know." What do you think will happen to her and Pantalaimon when they cross the bridge?
Read an Excerpt
One
THE DECANTER OF TOKAY
Lyra and her daemon moved through the darkening hall, taking care to keep to one side, out of sight of the kitchen. The three great tables that ran the length of the hall were laid already, the silver and the glass catching what little light there was, and the long benches were pulled out ready for the guests. Portraits of former Masters hung high up in the gloom along the walls. Lyra reached the dais and looked back at the open kitchen door, and, seeing no one, stepped up beside the high table. The places here were laid with gold, not silver, and the fourteen seats were not oak benches but mahogany chairs with velvet cushions.
Lyra stopped beside the Master's chair and flicked the biggest glass gently with a fingernail. The sound rang clearly through the hall.
"You're not taking this seriously," whispered her daemon. "Behave yourself."
Her daemon's name was Pantalaimon, and he was currently in the form of a moth, a dark brown one so as not to show up in the darkness of the hall.
"They're making too much noise to hear from the kitchen," Lyra whispered back. "And the Steward doesn't come in till the first bell. Stop fussing."
But she put her palm over the ringing crystal anyway, and Pantalaimon fluttered ahead and through the slightly open door of the Retiring Room at the other end of the dais. After a moment he appeared again.
"There's no one there," he whispered. "But we must be quick."
Crouching behind the high table, Lyra darted along and through the door into the Retiring Room, where she stood up and looked around. The only light inhere came from the fireplace, where a bright blaze of logs settled slightly as she looked, sending a fountain of sparks up into the chimney. She had lived most of her life in the College, but had never seen the Retiring Room before: only Scholars and their guests were allowed in here, and never females. Even the maid-servants didn't clean in here. That was the Butler's job alone.
Pantalaimon settled on her shoulder.
"Happy now? Can we go?" he whispered.
"Don't be silly! I want to look around!"
It was a large room, with an oval table of polished rosewood on which stood various decanters and glasses, and a silver smoking stand with a rack of pipes. On a sideboard nearby there was a little chafing dish and a basket of poppy heads.
"They do themselves well, don't they, Pan?" she said under her breath.
She sat in one of the green leather armchairs. It was so deep she found herself nearly lying down, but she sat up again and tucked her legs under her to look at the portraits on the walls. More old Scholars, probably; robed, bearded, and gloomy, they stared out of their frames in solemn disapproval.
"What d'you think they talk about?" Lyra said, or began to say, because before she'd finished the question she heard voices outside the door.
"Behind the chair—quick!" whispered Pantalaimon, and in a flash Lyra was out of the armchair and crouching behind it. It wasn't the best one for hiding behind: she'd chosen one in the very center of the room, and unless she kept very quiet...
The door opened, and the light changed in the room; one of the incomers was carrying a lamp, which he put down on the sideboard. Lyra could see his legs, in their dark green trousers and shiny black shoes. It was a servant.
Then a deep voice said, "Has Lord Asriel arrived yet?"
It was the Master. As Lyra held her breath, she saw the servant's daemon (a dog, like all servants' daemons) trot in and sit quietly at his feet, and then the Master's feet became visible too, in the shabby black shoes he always wore.
"No, Master," said the Butler. "No word from the aerodock, either."
"I expect he'll be hungry when he arrives. Show him straight into Hall, will you?"
"Very good, Master."
"And you've decanted some of the special Tokay for him?"
"Yes, Master. The 1898, as you ordered. His Lordship is very partial to that, I remember."
"Good. Now leave me, please."
"Do you need the lamp, Master?"
"Yes, leave that too. Look in during dinner to trim it, will you?"
The Butler bowed slightly and turned to leave, his daemon trotting obediently after him. From her not-much-of-a-hiding place Lyra watched as the Master went to a large oak wardrobe in the corner of the room, took his gown from a hanger, and pulled it laboriously on. The Master had been a powerful man, but he was well over seventy now, and his movements were stiff and slow. The Master's daemon had the form of a raven, and as soon as his robe was on, she jumped down from the wardrobe and settled in her accustomed place on his right shoulder.
Lyra could feel Pantalaimon bristling with anxiety, though he made no sound. For herself, she was pleasantly excited. The visitor mentioned by the Master, Lord Asriel, was her uncle, a man whom she admired and feared greatly. He was said to be involved in high politics, in secret exploration, in distant warfare, and she never knew when he was going to appear. He was fierce: if he caught her in here she'd be severely punished, but she could put up with that.
What she saw next, however, changed things completely.
The Master took from his pocket a folded paper and laid it on the table beside the wine. He took the stopper out of the mouth of a decanter containing a rich golden wine, unfolded the paper, and poured a thin stream of white powder into the decanter before crumpling the paper and throwing it into the fire. Then he took a pencil from his pocket, stirred the wine until the powder had dissolved, and replaced the stopper.
From the Trade Paperback edition.
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