After the madness of 2016 I wanted some escapism over
Christmas. A much-loved children’s book felt like the right move - perhaps
something innocent, fanciful and set far away from the politics of the day.
I tried to finish Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials about
four years ago, and maybe another four before that. The obstacle I always encounter
is that I savour each book in the trilogy a little too much - similar to how I
savour a box of quality Christmas chocolate. In particular the first book, Northern Lights, is the perfect
companion during a cold December, where all you want to do is cuddle up next to
the lights of the tree and a hot cup of cocoa.
The storytelling is dreamy. Lyra Belacqua plays in the rooftops and
spires of her Oxford, travels in a gyptian barge to the Fens, and then on past
Norroway and off to the lands of frozen lakes, polar bear kings and witches. In
a set of perfect moments attuned to the Christmas spirit, she rides a sledge pulled
by reindeers, wrapped up in a “hood lined with wolverine fur” and looks up at
the fragile pinks and greens of the aurora.
Pullman even plucks out from our world of romanticised technology
for his creations – zeppelins, tram-carts, air balloons and steam trains are
the chosen methods of transport in Lyra’s world - a world running on anbaric (electricity)
which seems so similar to our world, yet so different.
The Oxford-based author is lucky to have his home setting so
rich with material to use in his writing. I can imagine him walking around the
Pitts Rivers museum when he was conceiving the world of His Dark Materials. The
museum is a writer’s dream, an archive of treasures, including displays of Arctic
furs, which no doubt were the inspiration behind Lyra and her friend’s wintry
attire, while the “Bodley Library” is an endorsement of the Bodleian Library
which I’m sure Pullman visited often to select the passages of John Milton and
William Blake to introduce his chapters.
And this is where the escapism stops. Clearly, the world of His Dark Materials is an allegory for
every religious and political war that scars our history. Lyra’s fall into adulthood is likened to Eve’s
original sin. The childlike appeal of Northern
Lights and the fairytale creatures that walk its world are part of the Blake
inspired “Innocent” stage of the trilogy, but as they move around the worlds of
the second two instalments, they become tainted by “Experience”. The machines
Pullman writes about may be considered idyllic by today’s standards, but these are
the “burning tiger” mechanisms of Blake’s Industrial Revolution.
After finishing the pages of the third novel, finally in
early January, the Christmas tree had come down and I could see that Philip Pullman
has spoken to the media about the causes of Brexit and the disasters of 2016.
However, I did not finish the series on a sombre note. His Dark Materials is foremost an
adventure story about a young child and her friends and it was the perfect read
to start 2017.
