The Pilgrim’s Protest

By Caleb Wimble

With the upcoming December theatrical debut of Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials: The Golden Compass, his book has begun to receive a much greater deal of attention than it ever garnered upon its initial release. Christians in particular have reacted heavily to the title, although not generally with the same enthusiasm as secular readers. On the contrary, Compass seems to be receiving more scathing criticism from Christian circles than any book since the first entry in the Harry Potter series, and perhaps to an even greater extent than even that contentious Philosopher’s Stone. This time, however, it seems entirely possible that the violent reaction may well be justified – in contrast to the largely magical and child-friendly world of Rowling’s initial masterpiece, the realm crafted by the imagination of Philip Pullman is a dark and bloody one indeed. Criticisms have flown out against the book for dozens of reasons, ranging from mere offense at the level of explicit content in a so-called “children’s” title to the accusation that the book is a treatise against God himself, a veritable compendium of blasphemy to the core.

Whereas Rowling initially presented characters of clearly defined moral intention (i.e. the good, noble, and pure-hearted Potter versus the wicked, vengeful, and viciously violent Voldemort), such solid lines of moral fiber are nowhere to be found within Pullman’s controversial piece. In the world of Compass, we do not find the Good and the Evil, the Black and the White; instead, at very best, we find the Confused and the Convicted, the Gray and the Muddy. Characters do not represent strict ideals or moral themes; rather, they are symbols of struggle, each one dynamic as they interact with one another in a sea of emerging relativism, shifting with the weight of decision and responsibility. Their goals and motives may be the selfish pursuit of power or the simple journey of curiosity – and perhaps a bit of both.
The protagonist of the book (and of the entire Dark Materials trilogy) is a young girl by the name of Lyra Belacqua, the representation of innocence in its purest form – at least at the offset. Lyra, along with her animal daemon, Pantalaimon (who is essentially an extension of her own soul), is only an average girl with a streak of simple curiosity, but one who soon finds herself entangled in a world of mystery and deception after overhearing a secret conversation of her uncle’s. Alone and confused in an alternative post-Victorian Britain, Lyra is chosen as the bearer of a powerful device known as the Alethiometer, a compass-like instrument used for the mystical divination of truth. As she begins to uncover dark secrets from the dawn of humanity, Lyra finds herself the target of several powerful organizations, each with their own agendas and motives in their search for a mysterious element known as the Dust of Life.
One prominent aspect of the book is its astonishingly high content of reference to biblical themes. Lord Asriel, Lyra’s secretive uncle, gives a rather brief summary of the Genesis account of origins not long into the first chapter. It soon becomes apparently that the “Dust” of creation, from which man was formed, is treated with a certain mystical twist. This Dust appears to possess some manner of power that interacts with the human soul, and is the vital link between all the elements of intrigue that begin to plague Lyra and Pantalaimon. Beyond this, numerous references are made to spiritual beings with apparent resemblance to angels and demons, at least on the surface. Most importantly, perhaps, the Magisterium (essentially the Holy Church) dominates virtually all aspects of life in this world with an iron fist, bearing great resemblance to the state of the Dark Ages in our own world.
While many believers have complained about the dark representation of the church within Pullman’s work, it should be noted that his “attacks” are directed almost entirely upon an organization almost exclusively recognizable as the Roman Catholic church of centuries past. The Magisterium is a powerful spiritual society overflowing with corruption and a desire for corporal dominance, bearing little (if any) resemblance to the church of our world today. While some may be inclined to call Compass a critique of the Christian faith, it seems difficult to actually find any reference to “Christianity” within the book. If anything, what we find here is an attack upon enforced dogma above all else. The Magisterium demands absolute obedience in all matters, spiritual and physical, without question. It ruthlessly pursues its goals at the expense of any manner of moral duty or Christian ethic of any sort, perfectly willing to brutally kill, if necessary, in order to achieve its goals. Further completing the historical parallel, the Magisterium ruthlessly pursues and persecutes an order of benevolent witches for their heresy in the use of magic (and here, of course, Christians might find just cause for objectionable material, although I will leave that topic to another discussion).
In the end, The Golden Compass, while damning of the corrupt Catholic rule of ages past, is not so much a critique of Christianity as a critique of the use of religion for the pursuit of power. That said, it is difficult to simply recommend the book to believers without caution. The subject matter is, at the very least, probably unsuitable for all but the most mature of our youth, the deceptive label as a “children’s book” aside. Themes range far and wide, delving deeply into all manner of subjects as sexual abuse, the sin-nature of man, the ethics of war, the question of the soul, human experimentation, and a host of other dark matters.
As a result, while the book is remarkably thought-provoking and of the highest literary quality, readers should take great care to examine their own beliefs prior to delving in, as well as to make sure they are capable of reading Compass with the utmost discernment. The story is well-told, the characters are brilliantly written, and the world of Pullman’s fantasy is an enthralling one. I recommend The Golden Compass whole-heartedly, but with the warning that readers should be aware of exactly just how dark His Dark Materials can be; as always, be careful to read with your eyes and ears open, discerning with vigor at every turn.
Know what you are in for.