Critique: The Amber Spyglass (His Dark Materials #3) (Philip Pullman) 1/2

This book was a good attempt at rounding off a trilogy. After the second book, anything would have been great in comparison. Luckily book three had enough to be good in its own right. 

The world of the mulefa was so fascinating. The author did an amazing job in bringing that to life. Everything about the mulefa was stunning. Their looks, their way of life, their language: simply perfection.

 

Good Writing

The very first paragraph was pure perfection. It was far more interesting than all of book 2 combined.

            But this book continued to pull literacy brilliance from the bag. There are too many to list them all. For example, the harpies called Lyra ‘liar’ so they began to sound the same: if there ever was an appropriate name for a character, it is this.

            Again with the harpies, their ‘shrieks hang in the air and stung like jellyfish’.

The one time when Pan is in stoat colours rather than their winter form (ermine, which is white), he gets scared enough to turn white. This in itself was good but it was described as ‘fog-pearled hair’.

My final note in this section isn’t a description as such. Asriel called Lyra ‘impulsive, dishonest, greedy’. Mrs Coulter counters this by called Lyra ‘[b]rave, generous, loving.’ This simple exchange displays their different worldviews with both detail and succinctness.

 

Grammar

As clear from all my critiques, grammar, and particularly punctuation, grabs my attention. Unfortunately, it’s hardly ever good news.

The author writes ‘h’mm’. Without doubt, ‘hmm’ without the apostrophe would be better because what exactly are you abbreviating.

            As in book one (but not book two), ‘he’ is used instead of ‘He’ for God. This shows a stunning lack of consistency within an omnibus.

            Of Mary Malone, she wonders how to label the mulefa she’s bonded with. ‘She settle for – friend.’ This is truly awful sentence structure. Ellipses would have been far more appropriate.

            In book three, the author has a habit of writing a piece of information and then repeating it almost instantly. Eleven lines after the first time, she again says that the creatures’ speed terrifies her, yet pretends as if this is new information. Within half a page of prose, he twice mentions that they have no idea how long redoing the knife took. That’s too short amount of time to need reminding. Also, far more important information is never repeated so this can’t be brushed away as establishing vital information in the readers’ brains.

 

Lyra’s Character

Lyra’s always come up with daft conclusions. The fact she continues this in book three shows consistency.

            When Lyra has to leave Pan behind, this is apparently the betrayal that the Master of Jordan College spoke about. But Lyra isn’t leaving Pan forever. Plus Pan agreed that Lyra needed to do this. How is it betraying someone to do what they agreed?

Whilst Lyra might view this as a betrayal, no one else could. For Lyra to do her job, the Master was told to not tell this information to Lyra. So if it’s something that only Lyra would think is a betrayal, but Lyra would never told about it, why would the Master be told that Lyra would betray someone.

 

But some of Lyra’s actions don’t fit the character. Lyra sobbing when she left Mrs Coulter, for example.

            Lyra’s infatuation keeps on building and it annoys me so much. Not because the lead female/male characters get together (because I think that was the right call) but because it makes an independent character completely dependent on another. Lyra is too rebellious for this.

Since book two, this growing dependence has been essential for Lyra’s behaviour and the plot-at-large. Yet as it doesn’t fit the character, it makes the plot crumble under its own weight.

 

Critique: Subtle Knife (His Dark Materials #2) (Philip Pullman)

 

Book two was not as gripping as book one. It was a bit of a chore to read this and, honestly, I wish I didn’t go through the effort. It’s almost like the author needed a filler book between the first and the last.

*****SPOILERS*****

Will

Will is really sweet with, to and about his mother who’s suffering with mental ill-health. Her enemies were, as far as Will was concerned in her mind, but he acknowledged that this ‘made them no less real, no less frightening and dangerous.’

But when these enemies actually come to his house, Will hides his mum and flees to Oxford (somehow he just knows to go there). This is hastened when one of the men falls over Maxie, Will’s cat, and dies. Will packs some essentials which (correctly) includes chocolate.  The story finally kicks off when Will steps through into another world and meets Lyra.

Will remains in shock over the death he caused… even though he didn’t. Sure, he would be in shock after seeing a death, and yes, he would feel guilty because it was in his home and he couldn’t prevent it. But there’s a massive difference between feeling guilty for something and having actually done it.

The subtle knife cuts two of Will’s fingers off and they bleed heavily (this is repeated often). It bleeds for a long time and if it was heavily, surely Will would have died by the end? Or at least he’d be woozy and weak from a big loss of blood.

Several times, the story notes that Will can just disappear. This is similar to what witches can do to not be noticed. So can Will do other things that are out of the ordinary? Is this how he categorically knew to go to Oxford? Is this how he survived the blood loss?

 

 

Lyra

Lyra is as annoying as ever.

‘No-one should speak to her like this: she was an aristocrat.’ Don’t complain about peasants being a problem if you’re insistent on speaking like them.

Lyra tells Pan off for not asking her if Pan could like Will. Um, Lyra, you don’t own Pan. You’re both part of the same self. More importantly, Pan’s never had to ask your permission for anything before.

Lyra tells Will that he’s not safe alone despite just walking in front of a car. Even if Lyra doesn’t cars in her world, she must know not to walk on front of moving objects, especially if they’re large and fast. Horse carts and such. Whilst this was an attempt to show the differences between Lyra’s and Will’s worlds, it didn’t take into account the established similarities.

 

The alethiometer seems to develop a personality in this book. Not a massive one but a subtle one.

            It’s also funny because it gives Lyra a run for her money. It tells her to help Will, shocking her because it was ‘obvious he was sent to her.’ Of all the self-centred brats, Lyra is by far the most extreme.

            Lyra decides to not use the alethiometer without Will’s permission. Lyra also always does what Will says. For Lyra, a stubborn, wilful, disobedient child, to do this doesn’t fit with the character.

            The alethiometre tells Lyra that Will is a murderer which makes her feel safe and that has a worthy companion. But the man fell over Maxie, Will’s cat. That doesn’t make Will a murderer. Maybe because Lyra respects murderers and she needed to trust Will, the alethiometer told her what she needed to hear?

            The alethiometer sends Laura to Dr Malone, a studier of dark matter. Dr Malone easily accepts that Lyra is from another world, no problem. This was peculiar.

 

Lyra’s behaviour goes against everything that book one did to establish Lyra’s character and personality. At the very least, we can see this with the alethiometer.

Lyra won’t wear jeans because ‘girls don’t wear trousers’. But Lyra is super rebellious. Why would she stick to gender roles?

Will and Ly sleep on house and neither feels welcome in four-poster bed. Ly, who makes such big deal out of being an aristocrat, and for doing what she wants despite what others think, surely wouldn’t have such reservations.

 

 

Coulter

The Spectres drain adults of their souls so, in theory, the Spectres should have drained Mrs Coulter. But instead, Mrs Coulter has the Spectres do her bidding.

            The explanation of how doesn’t make sense: anyone could offer to lead the Spectres to more victims. The witch Lena saw the power in Coulter’s soul and says ‘no one could resist that authority’. So maybe the Spectres fell for that too? However, this doesn’t means Coulter can make the Spectres ‘forget they’re earth-bound’. That’s such a lazy cop-out.

            It’s interesting because the only other time that ‘authority’ has been used is in regards to the Authority who is God. Is she… blesse? Is this how Mrs Coulter can be so weirdly persuasive, perceptive and allow her daemon to wonder further than a human’s usually can?

            Before Mrs Coulter sends the Spectres on their way, she has a very sensual moment with Carlo. During this, Coulter monkey’s hand goes up and down Carlo’s snake. This is a very clear metaphor: not very subtle because it cuts to the point.

 

Other

This book has so many odd things that it makes you wonder.

We learn that Asriel is too weak to destroy the church so instead he decides to destroy the Authority. You know, God. How does this make sense?

Serafina wonders if she’s less of a witch to think of human affairs. Bearing in mind the witches have prophesised about Lyra to centuries, Lyra is clearly a thing of witch affairs, too. Besides, being interested in fellow people is sensible when you share a world.

Dust, angels, consciousness, Shadows and dark matter are all the same thing. This is fine. But Dr Malone calls dark matter ‘Shadows’ without any reason to make this distinction. So why bother with shadows?

 

Language

Goodness, this was painful.

This book capitalises Him/Himself (which is proper when talking about a deity) but it didn’t do this in book one, even though it’s bound in the same omnibus. This inconsistency should have been addressed.

A man asks the witches if they ‘treat with the devil.’ This is ‘devil’ being use as a proper noun so it should be ‘Devil’.

We have ‘bearer of the subtle knife’ used often to emphasise its importance. Titles should be capitalised, especially those with vital importance.

All of a sudden, Will uses ‘see’ in the same way as Lyra uses ‘right’ during a long conversation. It’s common for people to imitate the speaking patterns of those we spend time with, but if that happened here, Will should be saying ‘right’, not ‘see’.

Lee starts saying ‘git’ in place of ‘get’. In all instances beforehand, including book two, he says ‘get’. So why the sudden change to ‘git’. Also he says ‘cain’t’ instead of ‘can’t’. Is ‘cain’t’ a thing in real life or a nice oddity for this novel?

 

 

Conclusion

When I reread book one and three, I remembered most of the events. When I reread book two, everything was like new. So it clearly didn’t make an impact then and it hasn’t made an impact now.

Second books are usually my favourite in the series because we get a blossoming of world building. Yet here there was stunted growth.

Too many of the events were convenient but executed poorly. Just suddenly realising something at the right time is bad enough, but it kept on happening in this book.

I can’t imagine people who loved Northern Lights waited for the sequel, only to be given this book. So this book was such a disappointment. The only good thing was the ending because it was finally over.

Critique: Northern Lights (His Dark Materials #1) (Philip Pullman)

I first read His Dark Materials ten years ago, recovering from my scoliosis correction. It’s one of the few books in the house that I’d only read once so I decided to read them again.

 

The prose is easy to read, flowing nicely. This is a brilliant trait for any writer but it’s essential for a children’s author.

 

*****SPOILERS***** 

Lyra is unbearable. I’ve never disliked the sole protagonist before so it was refreshing.

She is a risk-taker and adventurer whereas her daemon Pan is anxious, worried and a self-confessed coward. Yet he’s very willing to use physical force to get what he wants (which is basically all the time). Pan’s also the one who convinces Lyra to cross into the other universe. Daemons are an essential part of a person so this dichotomy is interesting; it may also be a legitimate reason for why their personalities sometimes switch places.

The twelve year-old initially has two speech patterns: middle-class for the adults and lower-class for the urchins (poor children). Changing speech patterns for different audiences is fully natural, especially if the audiences are distinct from each other. But after Rodger is taken, Lyra speaks to everyone with a lower-class speech pattern. At the very least, the intelligent Mrs. Coulter should have been spoken to with the middle-class speech pattern.

Lyra ‘considered it a deplorable lapse on the part of her subjects not to tell her everything and at once.’ Bloody hell. You’re speaking like a queen but you’re not even an honourable. Calm down!

When Lyra can’t find her friend Rodger, she climbs onto the roof and screams (#dramatic). This is just one of many examples where Lyra acts younger than her twelve years.

Pan says they thought Dust was bad just because the adults did. But they’re inherently rebellious so they wouldn’t automatically agree with the adults. Also, Pan and Lyra have been curious about Dust throughout the entire book with academic neutrality. So Pan’s statement seems out of character for them both.

 

The concept of parallel universes is central to this series.

It’s set in Oxford and it’s a universe with familiar names to our own (New Denmark, New France, Brytain). So Asriel strolling into another universe at the end isn’t as implausible as people seem to think.

In this universe, they have counts like Europe, not earls like in our UK. Also, the alethiometer is spelt with an ‘er’ like in America, not ‘re’ like in the UK.

Daemons are animal companions of a human, able to change into any form until puberty. Pictures of dead daemons show they can be ‘a fair woman’ or even a basilisk. Pan transforms into deer-hound sized dragon: so creatures don’t have to be normal sized or real. So, considering Pan has in every other similar situation tried to fight his way out, he should have easily escaped from the grip of Coulter’s daemon.

 

Everyone in Lyra’s universe seems to be wired for cruelty.

The Master at Jordan College, Oxford, tries to poison Lord Asriel, Lyra’s uncle. Asriel forces Lyra to spy on the Master but says she’d on her own if she’s caught.

Lyra and the urchins regularly destroy property and throw hard objects at other kids. Someone asks to pay for fish and Lyra feels like telling Ioric to kill the man. (The Master saying Lyra’s full of ‘goodness and sweetness’ is misplaced.)

Is this all a way to separate Lyra’s universe from our own? Is there something about having a part of your soul (daemon) an animal give you more animalistic behaviours?

 

Goodness, gracious, this book has a fair few potholes.

Lee’s balloon has ‘racks of philosophical instruments’. No. One: a balloon would have instruments relating to engineering or physics. Two: there’s no such thing as ‘philosophical’ instruments.

The witches say they aren’t interested in the Dust hunters, yet they know quite a bit. So this comment seems like a way for the witches to inform the Gyptians without divulging everything. It was, to be honest, messily done.

When Rodger dies, we’re not shown his death, either how or when it happened. One could say this is the author cleverly hiding death from view to save the sensibilities of his children audience. But this isn’t the case, considering we’ve been shown death on this book plenty of times before.

 

Iorik the armoured bear is one of my favourite characters. Yet some things weren’t handled too well with him.

We learn that the armoured bears banished, and took armour from, Iorik. But if he was deprived of his armour, how did the humans trick Iorik out of it? Did he make it in between being banished by bears and indentured by humans? The bears are master metal workers so it would be possible, I presume, and the lack of safety and resources could be why Iorik’s armour is ‘crudely riveted together’.

It’s well established that the armoured bears don’t break their word. So when Iorik goes to crush someone’s skull after just promising to not take vengeance, this just goes to disprove what many character’s had said (and what many characters continue to say after this episode).

The only saving grace I can find is Serafina saying that bears can only be tricked when acting like humans. It’s as well established that armoured bears can’t be tricked as much as they don’t break their word, so maybe bears acting like humans will allow them to break their word too. But I’m grasping at straws.

 

Lyra has loads of thoughts that are nonsensical. Yes, she’s a child, but she was educated at one of the best universities: she should know better. One could argue that concepts would likely be different in different universes.

The alethiometer tells Lyra to trust Iorik. When Lyra’s worried that the bear’s too tired, she berates herself for not trusting Iorik. How is being considerate not trusting someone?

One thought gave me whiplash because it was so bizarre: ‘”It ent a lizard… it’s a chameleon.”’ Chameleons are lizards. That’s like claiming a peacock isn’t a bird! But then Lyra interprets the chameleon as air because they sustain themselves with air, not eating or drinking. This is just peculiar. This clue is essential for the plot of the book but this is the only time we encounter chameleons. All the other alethiometer clues make sense so to throw this one into the mix comes out of nowhere.

Lyra, because she couldn’t save Rodger from Asriel’s experiment, thought this was her ‘diligently working to betray him’. This is an odd thought. By trying to save Rodger, Lyra demonstrates loyalty, an action that contradicts betrayal. Working to betray someone means taking actions with the intent of betrayal (which Lyra did not do).

 

There were two positive stand-out moments in this book. Iorik’s blood lands on Lyra ‘like a token of love.’ This is fantastic because blood and love both come from the heart. When Iorik killed another bear, it’s life ‘came away in his [Iorik’s] teeth.’ Amazing.

 

As a gentle read, this book certainly stands out. The world that’s been created is really gripping. The idea of daemons is attractive because you get your own personal pet. There’s a lot of interesting plots points and world building that grab your attention. There were too many mistakes for my liking, however. It’s a shame because the concept of the book is brilliant: the execution let it down.