From: uma at cyberport.com <uma>
Date: Sat, 5 May 2001 10:51:49 -0600

Dear all,

WARNING -- Marginal Plot Giveaways!

I think kids who like the series are those who like to engage in the process of rethinking and decoding what they read -- my son (now 14) spent a lot of time figuring out all the plot connections among the three books. He has reread all three books several times. Phrases from them have crept into family conversation -- "He's a murderer," and other examples of Lyra's creative manipulation of truth. They join the ranks of other gems ("Toopid Daddy" from Lynne Reid Banks's Angela and Diabola; and "a stout and helpful bear" from Pooh -- no comparisons intended here among these works, mind, just that "word-grabbing" happened with all of them, they all came home to stay). That did not happen with Clockwork or Pullman's other writing. There was so much in the trilogy that was whimsical and funny and idiosyncratic, and it balanced the darker aspects of the work without undermining the whole. I liked Clockwork a lot, found it a deftly woven story, but it didn't lodge in my consciousness the way these did. I think that is because of Lyra -- she is such a fabulous character -- and because of the layers of story, the universes in tandem, lots and lots of texture. I did wonder at how the anti-Church slant would be received, especially in my small town, even though I personally think there might be something to be said for the idea of a Republic of Heaven! Someone made the point of Mary Malone's outrage against the church in her/our world feeling slapped together, and I too got that sense, as if it were a loose end that "needed" to be tied up at that point in the telling. But it was not enough of a hiccup to spoil the reading for me.

I must say, as a former kid who was not above adding creative frills to reality, a part of me felt sad when Lyra had to learn that distinction in the scene with the harpy (The Amber Spyglass) and the opening of the subsequent chapter -- between truth and story, real and false. Pullman touched a nerve there, made me think about that impulse to pad truth that so many fiction writers have found to be common experience, made me wonder if recognition of that impulse was where those scenes came from. Those reflections on story and life I found jumping out at me throughout -- the place where Lyra "had to adjust to her new sense of her own story" and another, can't remember which book, in which the narrator tells us it wasn't that Lyra was brave, just that she wasn't imaginative. Being a practised liar doesn't mean you have an imagination, in fact most good liars have no imagination at all, that's how come they can lie with such wide-eyed conviction. As a writer trying to grow my own fiction writing skills, that bit REALLY gave me courage to go forth and lie boldly, never mind that I have always felt I have no imagination! In thinking this over, Pullman was telling, not showing, something most of us are told not to do. He was speaking directly to me -- this was that "author commentary" that common wisdom says doesn't work -- and guess what? I didn't mind a bit. The really amazing was that when I reread the books, trying to see them with the eye of a younger self, I found places where they spoke to that self as well.

Big Grandma you got me thinking -- my first reaction was, if discussion of books isn't about LOVE or HATE, what's it about?


Worthy of further thought -- that's a grand way to put it. I guess I felt the Pullman trilogy was that. Thank you for making me think about how it is I process what I read.

Uma Krishnaswami




Uma Krishnaswami http://www.childrensbookguild.org/Krishnaswami.html
"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""" What a heavy price one has to pay to be regarded as civilized. [Kasturba Gandhi, on wearing shoes]
Received on Sat 05 May 2001 11:51:49 AM CDT