I started listening to the audio book of The Golden Compass last week
(for the umpteenth time) and it reminds me that whatever we think
about the movie, the story is alive and well in the words Philip Pullman put
down (and reads) so beautifully. The books are selling splendidly well
(sorry, Mr. Donohue) and the story will live on because it is great.
I am not given to hyperbole, but it is for me truly one of the great
works of British children’s literature. Every reading is a richer one.
I’m now at Bolvanger and (perhaps because I’ve been talking so much
about the book in school) particularly noticed how Philip Pullman used his
experiences as a teacher. He totally captures the children’s way of
grouping, of playing, of talking together. And then, that sprite of a
narrator, goes a little deeper by commenting on Lyra being such a good
liar because she is so lacking in imagination. Brilliant. The real
story is the thing. It transcends New Line, Chris Weitz, Bill
Donohue, and everything else.
“So Lyra and her daemon turned away from the world they were born in,
and looked toward the sun, and walked into the sky.”
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