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What's Wrong With His Dark Materials

06 Dec 2007 10:38 am

It isn't that Philip Pullman's trilogy is anti-Christian (though obviously that doesn't make me favorably disposed to it). Nor is it that the saga is badly-written; Pullman is, of course, an immensely talented writer, as anyone who read The Ruby in the Smoke could have told you even before The Golden Compass made him world-famous. No, the problem is that the wheels come rattling off the storytelling wagon in the third volume (The Amber Spyglass, that is), thanks to a combination of preachiness and terrible, terrible plotting. In his great essay on the series, Alan Jacobs blames this squarely on Pullman’s atheism, suggesting that "powerful alternative versions of the biblical narrative can only be told by people who are themselves passionately theological." I was persuaded by this argument, but I didn’t realize how persuasive it really is until I read this critique (via Jeffrey Overstreet) by the fantasy writer John C. Wright, which lays out, piece by piece, how the story Pullman should have been telling, and seemingly set out to tell, was undone by the message he was trying to push. An excerpt follows below the fold:

The plot promised us that the republic of heaven would overthrow the heavenly kingdom. This magnificently blasphemous idea should have been something like Ancient Rome among the clouds, Senators draped in constellations and crowned with glory, with newly-immortal men voting on issues of heaven and hell, debating the destinies of stars and nations, weighing issues of fate and incarnation and reincarnation, meting out rewards and punishments for the quick and the dead, and ending with Jehovah hanged for a tyrant or sent to the Guillotine, while Cain and Ixion and Prometheus and Sisyphus, and all the dead drowned by the Deluge of Noah or the wars of Joshua, stand around hooting [and] throwing fruit. Instead the tyrant dies by falling out of bed.

… A good story would have shown all the innocent people from Ethiopia, Australia and China tormented in the fires of hell, merely for the whimsical violation of the Christian rule that they are sons of Adam not baptized by a messiah of whom they never could have heard. The writer would only need to show us one ghost, dead of sudden disease as a child one hour before his baptism, being crushed forever between the red-hot plates of a coffin of heated iron spikes, while crying for his mommy, in order to arouse the proper indignation. The crimes of God have to be, for such a story, cosmic crimes. Jehovah has to be shown as a being powerful enough to stop the wheel of reincarnation, which otherwise would have eventually saved all living spirits through many lives of learning and growing, in order to establish an arbitrary paradise and an arbitrary hell. The story of that crime ends when Christianity is overthrown, and the reincarnation cycle which will one day save all people from all suffering is reinstated.

… But the message cannot be Taoist or Buddhist or even New Age Spiritualism. Mr. Pullman's message is atheist. He cannot have a reincarnation be shown as a better alternative to hellfire, because he does not believe in reincarnation any more than he believes in hellfire. In order for his message to prosper, materialism has to be the order of the day. All the ghosts of the lordly dead, the honored ancestors to whom the pagan shrines are adorned, also have to be false. The ghosts in a Pullman fantasy world have to be bored, and dissolving back into matter has to be the only ecologically sound proposition. It is a boring and undramatic resolution, unconvincing to the point of idiocy, but it is the only one his message would allow. …

Read the whole thing; it’s well worth your time. As Wright notes, the hook of His Dark Materials - that “the universe is run by a mad God who has to be destroyed” – could have served as “the ultimate in paranoid conspiracy thriller concepts.” Such a thriller needn’t have been any kinder to Christianity than Pullman’s trilogy turned out to be; indeed, if anything, it would have been more hostile still. But it would have been, quite literally, a hell of a better story than the one he ended up telling.

Comments (85)

Wow... a recent Christian convert doesn't like the Pullman books! Whoda thunk it?

"At the age of 42, Wright converted from atheism to Christianity."

What's next, Ross? A hard-hitting piece about how Lou Dobbs is afraid of Mexicans?

What's next, Ross? A hard-hitting piece about how Lou Dobbs is afraid of Mexicans.

Why don't you respond to the substance of the literary criticism instead of impugning the critic's objectivity? Oh, because that would be hard? I see. I give you credit for your honest answer.

Deft wielding of the old ad hominem argument there, ML&J. I'm impressed. Are you equally skilled with responding to arguments on their merits? Or do your critical abilities remain stuck in the third grade?

I myself am a Christian, albeit of a doubting frame of mind, and Wright's description of the first book in particular has convinced me that I should see what Pullman has to say, but if the story really does go off the rails in the way Wright (and other critics) has suggested, well, that's a pretty damning criticism. I don't expect a story to be faithful to my view of the world, but I do expect it to be faithful to the promises the author has made within the story itself.

But apparently none of that is of any interest to ML&J, who seems to find even literary critiques too complicated to be addressed on their merits. To make things even simpler for ML&J, I urge us all to voluntarily recuse ourselves from any conversation in which we have any personal interest at all. Otherwise, given the volume of discourse on the Atlantic's blogs alone, I'm afraid even the effort of mounting the required ad hominem might overtax fragile minds.

As an atheist, I have to agree that the third book is pretty awful. I went to see the National Theatre's stage version in London and noticed that they'd dropped virtually everything that happened in the last volume without much harm to the story. He definitely dropped the plot in favour of preaching and the book suffers badly.

Having said that, Wright's criticism reveals exactly the sort of religious prejudice against the present world that Pullman was skewering. It's revealing that Wright thinks that savouring 'organism stuff' like sex is 'shallow' and that in order to be about love the characters have to end up together. Why? Why not celebrate sex? Why can't a story about love have a sad ending? Why can't it also tell a story about how love is to be prized but also, ultimately, may have to be sacrificed to a greater good, not in some hereafter but in the here and now?

The two climaxes of the trilogy are the kiss and the final separation of Will and Lyra. But what does Wright want? More fantasy of angels and demons. That's because he's (become) a Christian and mere humans ('organism stuff') bore him.

Well, and because science fiction and fantasy naturally gravitate to gigantic themes and metaphysical fireworks. If your STORY is about KILLING GOD, then the climax being some kids kissin' is sort of peculiar. It's bathetic.

Pullman's a great _writer_ and nothing stops atheists from writing anti-God books of considerable force (Harlan Ellison, for all his faults, does it very well at short length on occasion). I don't think the problem is so much that Pullman's "sex is so profound and mystical and wonderful that it literally drives the universe" is shallow so much as it's nonsense on his own terms. A sex-mysticism isn't materialism, it's half-arsed New Age vitalism, with some materialist trappings, as far as I can see.

It's true that a number of "atheists" fall for sex-mysticism-vitalism, but that doesn't make it any less silly seeming, on their own (more sensible) materialist principles.

Wow... an embittered atheist doesn't like the Douthat post! Whoda thunk it?

What's next, ML&J? A hard-hitting piece about how Philip Pullman doesn't go to church on Sundays?

"If your STORY is about KILLING GOD, then the climax being some kids kissin' is sort of peculiar. It's bathetic." - The Marquis of Carabas

First of all, I'm kind of tired of arguments about religion and atheism degenerating into ad hominem arguments, so I'd like to thank you for responding to the substance of my comment.

Second, there is 'bathos' (in the sense of a lurch from the sublime to the ridiculous or epic to everyday), but it's not at the point of the kiss - it's where the kids discover that God is senile. I read it as deliberately set up to play that way because Pullman sees *religion* as bathetic since religion takes (IHO) some of humans' most petty characteristics and projects them onto an ultimate authority. The unmasking of that is 'bathetic', but deliberately so.

The materialist alternative certainly includes sex, but that's not the be all and end all. That's why I see the separation as important - sex (or, more precisely for these kids, sexuality) should be celebrated but there are also duties to your fellow humans in the present world. At that point, it transcends 'New Age vitalism' in favour of a tragic sense of responsibility to people, not God. (Certainly, in the theatre I could here kids and maybe a few adults weeping at the scene where they're separated - that audience certainly understood where the emotional core of the story lies.)

I think it's interesting that both yourself, Marquis, and Wright say that Pullman is a great writer as if that meant the failure of the third book must therefore lie elsewhere. I'd agree that he *can* be, but I think the third book is a technical failure rather than an ideological one. It's just bloated and the National Theatre production really brought home to me how it could have been done in only two books while losing none of the atheism or points about sexuality and the importance of the here and now.

Anyway, thanks again for the civilised discussion!

Aah! That's supposed to be 'hear kids', not 'here kids'.

M&L suffers from Bulverism.

Yes, I could have taken the time to deal with Wright's juvenile piece of criticism seriously, but here are some excerpts from it that might help even the dumbest theists see why I won't bother.

"The problem is that the atheist message is boring and undramatic: life's a mechanical process and then you die. Now, as you believe one thing or another, you might take this message to be fact or faction, but, true or false, it is always a false fiction, by which I mean an undramatic one."

"Maybe I read that part of the book wrong, because I was skipping pages and giggling with boredom about then."

There is also this bit of stupidity - "When you are told that there is a prophecy that one and only one knife can kill Almighty God, and that one little boy is the one to do it, it breaks a promise to have God turn out to be a drooling cripple who dies by falling out of bed."

It does no such thing if you're an atheist and one of your points is that theistic prophecy - and the claims made about the omnipotence of gawd - are total bullshit.

I'm no longer surprised I have to explain such things to gape-mouthed worshippers of de Load.

I'm sure there are serious critics, somewhere, who yip about skipping pages before doing a review, but I'm not familiar with them.

Wright's claim that he was an atheist when he read the book is amusing - it's reminiscent of cliams by other hacks, like Lee Strobel and Josh McDowell, who claim that their skeptical investigations of Christianity led them to become believers. The problem is that their books show no signs of skeptical thinking whatsoever. I'm not saying Wright is necessarily a liar - I am saying that if he was an atheist at the time, he wasn't a very accomplished one.

TMoC writes: "It's true that a number of "atheists" fall for sex-mysticism-vitalism, but that doesn't make it any less silly seeming, on their own (more sensible) materialist principles."

Let's remember that TMoC is a Catholic and believes that the Virgin Mary's hymen remained inviolate throughout her life - and even during childbirth - but he would insist that there's no intersection of sex and mysticism there.

No sirree!

John writes: "Wow... an embittered atheist doesn't like the Douthat post! Whoda thunk it?"

Of course all atheists are "embittered" - why else would they refuse the free gift of salvation offered by Jeezus? Golly, it's just a "tradegy," as Charles would say.

What next, John? A hard-hitting post about how all Muslims are going to H-E-double-toothpicks?

I'm mostly in Ovid's camp, but I do believe that there is an underlying problem that would have made a satisfying conclusion impossible. And Wright does properly identify the problem: given the premise of the trilogy, in which god is not just a story that people have invented to give meaning to their lives, but a real entity, an entirely materialist conclusion is unsatisfying. I think it's probably impossible to graft the two together.

Of course, I'm very much in the camp that believes that, if there is an omnipotent God who exists and allows evil to flourish in the world, it would be almost too horrible to contemplate. I guess I'm a materialist in part because I find the notion of such a God horrifying, not comforting. Which brings me in mind of a Harlan Ellison story with which many of you are no doubt familiar.

And, yes, I'm quite familiar with all of the efforts believers have made to deal with issues of innocent suffering and related issues, from Job onward. I personally find none of those efforts convincing.

I read those when they came out--I was in middle school--and gave up about halfway through the third one. I was a pretty strident atheist at age 14, so I'm inclined to side with the people who think that the book's failure is mostly technical; not his message, but the clumsy way Pullman incorporates it into the story. It just got boring all of a sudden. But I don't agree that a materialist account of the universe is necessarily a "false fiction." I could imagine a deft author writing a fantasy story that ends with all of the fantasy being stripped away, but it would have to deal with that disillusionment in a more authentic way, instead of triumphal rationalist cliches.

God is not the Creator . . .
There's no Original Sin . . .
We've all got to work out our own salvation . . .
Hmmmm . . .

I'm not sure re-starting the wheel of reincarnation is the ending Pullman should have been aiming for. Wouldn't a better ending be: Lyra gets to be God in her own universe? One run much, much better than this one is?

By the way, has anyone ever seen Philip Pullman and Orson Scott Card in a room together?

"As Wright notes, the hook of His Dark Materials - that “the universe is run by a mad God who has to be destroyed” – could have served as “the ultimate in paranoid conspiracy thriller concepts.” Such a thriller needn’t have been any kinder to Christianity than Pullman’s trilogy turned out to be; indeed, if anything, it would have been more hostile still. But it would have been, quite literally, a hell of a better story than the one he ended up telling."

Indeed.

Because Pullman is an atheist he pulls back at the last minute. To want to destroy God is to admit two things an atheist is loath to admit.

#1. That God exists
#2. & that the mission of his destruction gives this existence a seriousness and weight.

Both these ideas run contrary to atheism & contrary to Pullmans objective. I have seen agendas ruin multiple otherwise worthwhile works of art. This is the case once again with these books.

ML&J: Please describe the sensation of your rhetorical dagger plunging into this straw man:

TMoC writes: "It's true that a number of "atheists" fall for sex-mysticism-vitalism, but that doesn't make it any less silly seeming, on their own (more sensible) materialist principles."

Let's remember that TMoC is a Catholic and believes that the Virgin Mary's hymen remained inviolate throughout her life - and even during childbirth - but he would insist that there's no intersection of sex and mysticism there.

No sirree!

I think TMoC would be more than willing to acknowledge the intersection of sex and mysticism. Indeed, Christian mystics through the centuries have used the language of the former to describe the experience of the latter. But that intersection makes sense within the framework of his metaphysics. Pray tell how it does so in that of Pullman's?

I saw an interview where Pullman quotes William Blake's line "Eternity is in love with the productions of time." Without experience, without mortality, without possibilities collapsing into reality (or, in Many Worlds terms, the separation of possibilities), there are no productions of time--essentially, no life.

I'm definitely with Ovid here that this is a failure of a writer rather than a failing of the belief system.

On the other hand, if God had realized the error of immortality and redeemed Himself by switching sides and dispersing with the rest of the ghosts, maybe that would have been a better ending? There are a lot of Christians who come close to Pullman's views on the meaning of the ephemeral--at least in the Church of England. Maybe the story would be better if Pullman had sucked up his resentment and practiced better bricolage. If his strange Copenhagen/Many Worlds hybrid quantum physics works as a metaphor for consciousness, why can't God work as a metaphor for eternity's love?

But I don't agree that a materialist account of the universe is necessarily a "false fiction." I could imagine a deft author writing a fantasy story that ends with all of the fantasy being stripped away, but it would have to deal with that disillusionment in a more authentic way, instead of triumphal rationalist cliches.

I think that you and some of the others her (but not Fitz) are missing the point. It isn't that "a materialist account of the universe is necessarily a 'false fiction;'" rather, it is that such account has no place in a work that posits a God that exists.

LarryM (no relation) writes: "Of course, I'm very much in the camp that believes that, if there is an omnipotent God who exists and allows evil to flourish in the world, it would be almost too horrible to contemplate. I guess I'm a materialist in part because I find the notion of such a God horrifying, not comforting. Which brings me in mind of a Harlan Ellison story with which many of you are no doubt familiar."

Sure, "The Deathbird." But in that story it's not just that the "god" allows evil to flourish - he/it is a part of that evil - and is also far from "omnipotent." Perhaps a better word, at its end, would be "omnimpotent."

Of course there's nothing in Ellison's story which says that "god" is the singular creator of the universe - it is merely a mad member of an ancient race which was instrumental in creating humankind. Once you assign the name "god" to something, in any story, some theists seem to take it very personally.

Sometimes, Anna, a god is just a second banana.

Well actually Moe, I think you do Mr. Ellison a disservice. I think he was very consciously engaging in a little thought experiment: what if the monotheistic "God" that much of the world believes in "really" exists? What kind of entity would allow the world to exist in the state that it exists? Such an entity, at least judged by human standards (and there is the rub - a believer would, for obvious reasons, argue that He can't be judged by those standards) must be some combination of darkly evil/insane.

Now, obviously there is a lot that a believer can say in response to this vision; it is, after all, "just" a work of fiction. But it is a powerful, "dangerous" vision, and, I think, was meant VERY "presonally."

Perhaps we can all agree that the wheels basically come off in the third book and start from there.

I agree with Ovid that the story of Lyra and Will's relationship keeps its wheels on to the end. The problem is that the other 85% of the third book is concerned with (1) the war on heaven and (2) the possible destruction of the universe(s). Those stories seemed pretty interesting in book one, and still pretty good in book two. By book three, they are a bunch of tiresome moralizing deus ex machina speeches from a bunch of characters, none of which are compelling, satisfying, or even interesting.

If Pullman wants me to be interested in the prospect of dethroning God, or in the metaphysics of how specters are created, then it's his job to make it interesting.

I agree with Wright that Pullman could have made it interesting the way Wright describes. My guess is that you could also tell an interesting, but essentially materialist, story as well, in which Lyra and Will have the opportunity to choose a world with an alternate theology but reject it in favor of existentialist self-determination. However, they would have to make the choice, not have it imposed on them by a selection of "dust scientists" and angels explaining an abstract cosmology.

I think TMoC would be more than willing to acknowledge the intersection of sex and mysticism. Indeed, Christian mystics through the centuries have used the language of the former to describe the experience of the latter. But that intersection makes sense within the framework of his metaphysics. Pray tell how it does so in that of Pullman's?

I think my post answered this. Sex is just a particularly vibrant part of the ephemeral. Experience is born, innocence dies, possibilities and fantasies are replaced reality and maturity.

It isn't that "a materialist account of the universe is necessarily a 'false fiction;'" rather, it is that such account has no place in a work that posits a God that exists.

I don't think HDM is a materialist account of the universe so much as a materialist account of the universe's meaning.

LarryM replies: "Well actually Moe, I think you do Mr. Ellison a disservice. I think he was very consciously engaging in a little thought experiment: what if the monotheistic "God" that much of the world believes in "really" exists?"

Well, sure, but it wasn't that simple. It was more "what if there was a real basis for the god of Christian mythology, but the bible was a pathetic work of propaganda which told the story from a very, very skewed point of view"? And of course he was writing very consciously - the experiments with form spell that out very clearly.

"Hints: remember, in chess, kings cancel each other out and cannot occupy adjacent squares, are therefore all-powerful and totally powerless, cannot affect each other, produce stalemate. Hinduism is a polytheistic religion; the sect of Atman worships the divine spark of life within Man; in effect saying, "Thou art God." Provisos of equal time are not served by one viewpoint having media access to two hundred million people in prime time while opposing viewpoints are provided with a soapbox on the corner. Not everyone tells the truth."

Moe,

Well, sure, then we aren't really disagreeing - or at least, not much. I suppose the question then becomes whether Ellison intended the story to be just some sort of crazy "what if" with little or no relation to the real world, or whether he meant it to be, to some extent, a commentary upon Christianity (or, more broadly perhaps, Judaism/Christianity/Islam). If the latter, and I think that it pretty transparently was his intention, then I don't think you can really blame a theist for taking it personally.

It's eminently possible to write a book that is harshly critical of the traditional, 'orthodox' Christian view of the world and that sets up its own rival cosmology. Lots of people have written interesting, unorthodox 'speculative fiction'- William Blake's vision of the God of this world as a corrupt tyrant, J.L. Borges' endless reworking of Gnostic heresies, including one story that eerily foretells the 'Gospel of Judas', James Blish's Manichaean dualist vision of the apocalypse....The thing that made all of these writers infinitely superior to Pullman is that as they tore down traditional Christian theology, they set up a rival theology of their own. They at least knew that the war between angels and demons is one of the most important subject about which fiction can be written, and not something to be airily blown off as irrelevant.

Pullman's problems are fourfold: 1) a materialist cosmology is, ultimately, singularly uninteresting (as opposed to one inspired either by Christian orthdoxy or by dualist heresy) 2) he can't make up his mind whether God is powerful and evil or doesn't exist at all, 3)if his aesthetic and worldview are correct, then ultimately love, beauty, truth, and all the rest of it have no meaning....if all we are is 'atoms' and then we die....4) his characters for the most part are a nasty bunch of people, a bunch of violent, lying, sex-mad individualist none of whom is a decent person.

As John Irving said in one of his books, Pullman is a man who lacks the imagination to believe in God. And in a fiction writer, that's a serious fault.

I had the funny sensation when reading Pullman of sympathizing with the 'villains' (i.e. the Magisterium) and thinking, wouldn't it be a great sequel in which Lyra and whatshisname realize what an evil thing they did in killing "God", and spend the rest of their lives in penance in a monastery.

LarryM replies: "I suppose the question then becomes whether Ellison intended the story to be just some sort of crazy "what if" with little or no relation to the real world, or whether he meant it to be, to some extent, a commentary upon Christianity (or, more broadly perhaps, Judaism/Christianity/Islam). If the latter, and I think that it pretty transparently was his intention, then I don't think you can really blame a theist for taking it personally."

I can and I do. I don't see how a rational person with any aesthetic sense can read "The Deathbird" and not find something of value in it - to be offended by it and dismiss it on the basis of one's theism seems childish and small-minded to me. I'm certainly capable of reading and enjoying works by theists which push a theistic perspective.

The inability to withstand any criticism of one's beliefs, or to welcome any examination of same, is, I would suggest, much more common among theists than among atheists. (And before some theist blows a gasket, this is of course not true of all theists.)

Perhaps all of that time spent on one's knees weakens the spine.

Hector writes: "As John Irving said in one of his books, Pullman is a man who lacks the imagination to believe in God. And in a fiction writer, that's a serious fault."

If it takes imagination to believe in god, Hec, dos that mean god is imaginary?

Don't answer all at once.

In any event, Hector, Pullman believes i only one less god than you do. So I suppose Odinists have you both beat to hell in the imagination department.

I just read these books this past summer in anticipation of the movie and I found the portrayal of heaven and God and the angels and such the least convincing and most disappointing parts of it. I suppose that shouldn't be surprising, given his atheism, but warmed over Olympians just don't do it for me.

I liked "The Golden Compass" a great deal, and enjoyed the other two, but found them to be inferior to the first book. Almost like he'd used up all his really good ideas first and the remaining books had to settle for left-overs.

ML&J is still overlooking one of Wright's best points against The Amber Spyglass- it promises a climatic battle full of epicness. It lies.

Let's remember that TMoC is a Catholic and believes that the Virgin Mary's hymen remained inviolate throughout her life - and even during childbirth - but he would insist that there's no intersection of sex and mysticism there.

I think richao answered this -- I have no problem with sex & mysticism intersecting, I think they do (though Catholic thought on this is certainly not sex-liberation-vitalism like Pullman nods towards), but I think that's not very materialist.

Look, you can write good materialist science fiction (Ken MacLeod and Iain M. Banks and Charlie Stross and a host of others do this all the time). You can write good fantasy and be a materialist (I think John Crowley is, no?). Writing good materialist fantasy is at best quite tricky, I think. That's what Pullman worked himself into, and he sort of wanted to lose the materialism and keep it, and it got a little muddled in book three, I think. Or, maybe, he just dropped the ball and it had nothing to do with his message, but that kind of criticism bores everyone -- "the tensions of the author's goals made this not work" is interesting to consider; "Gertrude Stein was drunk the day she wrote this" is less fun.

Oh, come on. Since when do theists object to lies?

Run along and play with your toy Ark.

If it takes imagination to believe in god, Hec, dos that mean god is imaginary?

Oh, grow up, Moe. It takes imagination to picture snowfall if you've never seen snow. Does that mean that snow is purely imaginary?

I think the criticism is more narrow -- there are many ways not to believe in God. A man might have the imagination, but find that reason or morality precludes his belief, or simply "lack belief" in some fundamental, even unwilling, way. This bit's a criticism of Pullman, not all atheists -- and I do think that Pullman has plenty of visual and story imagination, but a rather limited metaphysical mind. He isn't just convinced Christian metaphysics is untrue, he seems somewhat incapable of seriously abstracting to a non-materialist reality.

Moe --

Yeah, I liked "The Deathbird" -- though I think Ellison's scream-of-agony style and the pain in his works could put plenty (theists or atheists) off his work in general, if they take a certain aesthetic stance. Similar to how Vonnegut will leave many a classicist cold (or how Dickens doesn't do anything for you).

which Lyra and whatshisname realize what an evil thing they did in killing "God"

Eh, in the book's terms, given its assumptions, I'm not sure this makes any sense. That thing "deserved" to die, and in this world, there's no real need to consider the quality of mercy -- extinction is really the summa of existence, so who gives a flip? Penance would be pointless. Of course, why we should care that the Authority is dead (what's _really_ changed? some power structures that one can't imagine, unless one is naive to the point of lunacy, will be much better in the long run)...

Ruminating on this whole thing a little bit longer, I think Wright, Jacobs, and Douthat are wrong that it's impossible to write a stirring materialist fantasy epic. It's more difficult than a stirring spiritual fantasy epic, and Pullman ultimately misses a mark that he might have hit if he had aimed lower, but I think it's possible.

Ultimately, I think what might have saved the third book is some real agency for Lyra and Will. Put them in a situation where they need to choose whether to keep the old Authority, or raise a new one in its place, whether to allow the spirits of the dead to continue as they are or to recycle them.

At that point, if you want, Lyra can take all the lessons she's learned and decide that a world with no god is better than any other possibility, but you need to sell it. Having them watch as a bunch of authority figures explain to them that authority is bad is ultimately unsatisfying.

(Dan Simmons Illyium similarly overpromises, although not quite as badly. He has a moment midway through the first book where some of his characters make a vow to challenge the divine powers in their world, and it left me gasping for breath with its raw power. Again, he kind of got lost with what comes next).

Moe,

Now we are splitting hairs, but it IS possible for someone to be offended by elements of a piece of art AND, at the same time, to "find something of value in it."

""Gertrude Stein was drunk the day she wrote this" is less fun."

No. It's just a different kind of fun.

You need to build up your fun muscles.

TMoC quotes and replies: "If it takes imagination to believe in god, Hec, dos that mean god is imaginary?

Oh, grow up, Moe. It takes imagination to picture snowfall if you've never seen snow. Does that mean that snow is purely imaginary?"

You confuse "picturing" with "believing," of course. The distinction is important. I can picture Smurfs, but my inability to believe in them does not mean I lack imagination.

By the way, what color do Smurfs turn when you strangle them?

MLJ- Now that's just being inflammatory. One does not necessarily need to enjoy the tale of Noah's Ark to derive pleasure, or joy, or whatever from the Bible. However, when one buys a book about the killing of god, one would expect, well, someone actually killing god.

And you've done not one whit towards defending Pullman on his technical failures in The Amber Spyglass. He raises a lot of good points on why it fails as a fantasy novel. Bollocks to the religious debate. I want to see the fall of the evil Magisterium, dammit. I want them pull a Saruman and continue the war even after their superme leader is dead. If not, I want to see what became of them. I want Pullman to actually describe some of the varied infinite worlds that took place in the battle he neatly writes out. Whether you like it or not, Wright brings up a lot of good points against TAS, and it really is a disappointment, not just as a fantasy novel, but as an installment in the His Dark Materials series, which was pretty decent whether you care for Pullman's message or not.

And toy Ark? That doesn't even make sense.

It also seems that Wright wrote a few follow-up entries to his self-described "screed." This one puts in a good word for Pullman.

http://johncwright.livejournal.com/135022.html

LarryM replies: "Now we are splitting hairs, but it IS possible for someone to be offended by elements of a piece of art AND, at the same time, to "find something of value in it.""

Of course - again, I think you and I agree here. But the response of many - perhaps most - theists when they're offended in terms of their beliefs is to lash out and ignore any such value. That's true of Muslims who get upset over cartoons and Christians who get upset over Piss Christ or "The Last Temptation of Christ." In each case there was "something of value" in the art.

Moe -- but I think you can replace "picture" with "believe" in my response and it still works. "Imagination" isn't quite the right word, since you're generally going seriously wrong from a Christian/Jewish/Islamic perspective if you "imagine" God (as opposed to Jesus incarnate) at all.

The point is that whether it takes imagination to believe something is not really correlated well with whether that thing is real. I can imagine certain geometric configurations of molecules well, because I've trained to do so. I think (for our purposes, without getting into the metaphysics) some people couldn't do that. And the molecular configurations are (often) quite real.

Quietus writes: "And you've done not one whit towards defending Pullman on his technical failures in The Amber Spyglass. He raises a lot of good points on why it fails as a fantasy novel. Bollocks to the religious debate. I want to see the fall of the evil Magisterium, dammit. I want them pull a Saruman and continue the war even after their superme leader is dead. If not, I want to see what became of them. I want Pullman to actually describe some of the varied infinite worlds that took place in the battle he neatly writes out. Whether you like it or not, Wright brings up a lot of good points against TAS, and it really is a disappointment, not just as a fantasy novel, but as an installment in the His Dark Materials series, which was pretty decent whether you care for Pullman's message or not."

In other words, you want a happy ending. "1984" must have disappointed you.

Stick with the Left Behind series, it will make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. There are even white horses at the end, I think.

Moe,

I think it's also possibly true of Pullman's profound loathing for Narnia.

TMoC replies: "Moe -- but I think you can replace "picture" with "believe" in my response and it still works. "Imagination" isn't quite the right word, since you're generally going seriously wrong from a Christian/Jewish/Islamic perspective if you "imagine" God (as opposed to Jesus incarnate) at all."

Since the original quote being discussed used "imagination" and "believe" I think I'll stick with those. And as I understand it, from the C/J/I perspective no one can really "picture" or "imagine" or "comprehend" god, since he/she/it is beyond human comprehension, unless he decides to pop out of a virgin for effect.

"The point is that whether it takes imagination to believe something is not really correlated well with whether that thing is real."

In fact it isn't correlated at all. And since most theists believe their gods are real simply because they have been trained to do so, thanks for making that point.

Marquis,

On the subject of science fiction, have you read "The Sparrow" and its sequel 'Children of God"? They are by a former anthropologist who converted to Judaism and became a writer....the subject is humanity's first contact with an intelligent life on another planet. In contrast to Pullman, the author offers a very negative, bitter portrayal of sexuality as a tool by which some people exploit and dominate others- contrasted with a highly sympathetic portrayal of priestly celibacy (she has obviously paid a lot of attention to researching the church hierarchy and has a lot of admiration for the Jesuits). It's interesting to read after Pullman. The author isn't a Christian but the books are steeped in the imagery of Christian spirituality.

TMoC: "I think it's also possibly true of Pullman's profound loathing for Narnia."

Tolkien wasn't a fan, either. I have no taste for them myself, but it's mostly because I think they're written for kids and I see no depth in them whatsoever.

MLJ: In other words, you want a happy ending. "1984" must have disappointed you.

No, I wanted a climatic, an epic, a worthy battle between the Kingdom and the Republic. All I got were some references to offscreen events and a whole of muddle mysticism about Dust. And seeing as how I'm one of those Christian who you seem to be so snarky about, wouldn't you think that an epic battle where the Kingdom of Heaven lost would be disappointing ending to me?

But I don't care about the victor in Pullman's book; I just wanted a story that lived up to the installments of his first two books. And I wanted to see the big epic battle. Wright's brief description is entirely more dramatic and interesting (not to mention blasphemous) than Pullman's puny little finale. It doesn't matter what the outcome is. Doesn't matter where the ending lies. I just wanted something compelling.

Besides, who says the ending to 1984 was not a happy ending? He ended up loving Big Brother didn't he? What, are you against love, too?

MLJ: Stick with the Left Behind series, it will make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. There are even white horses at the end, I think.

Nope, my denomination condemns the false teachings of LaHaye.

And once again you use ad hominems instead of presenting any real defense for the shoddy story-telling problems with TAS. Couldn't you admit that Wright was even the teensiest correct in any of his criticisms of it? Or perhaps you venerate it as much as Christians venerate the Bible.

Moe -- yeah, well, John Irving doesn't know his theology well. Though I can imagine having little imagination (though I don't think that's Pullman's problem -- his is more the ability to think about certain kinds of possible worlds at all, I think, which is abstraction not imagination) being a handicap to belief in God (or lots of other things), as we generally make our way to ideas, even quite abstract ones, by a route involving visualization of images that have some relationship to the concept.

Hector: Eh, I simply wasn't very taken with The Sparrow, for various reasons. Didn't hate it, but didn't find it as impressive as most people did. You're on with how it views sex, though (rather too grimly if you ask me).

Moe -- that's why I said "quite possibly." From the comments he's made I vaguely feel that Pullman is annoyed that they are "propaganda" -- but then his own series is at least as propagandistic. Maybe his real distaste is style/form - based, but I vaguely suspect it's content based. Obviously, as Tolkien shows, you could hate 'em for other reasons, and I know quite orthodox Christians who hate Tolkien but have no problem with fantasy in general.

Quietus peplies: "I wanted a climatic, an epic, a worthy battle between the Kingdom and the Republic. All I got were some references to offscreen events and a whole of muddle mysticism about Dust. And seeing as how I'm one of those Christian who you seem to be so snarky about, wouldn't you think that an epic battle where the Kingdom of Heaven lost would be disappointing ending to me?"

You write funny.

"And once again you use ad hominems instead of presenting any real defense for the shoddy story-telling problems with TAS. Couldn't you admit that Wright was even the teensiest correct in any of his criticisms of it? Or perhaps you venerate it as much as Christians venerate the Bible."

No. Given the fact that even his critics seem to generally concede that Pullman is an excellent writer, and that the 1st two books work just fine, I don't see any need to defend him.

As for this "ad hominem" crap, grow up. It is always - ALWAYS - acceptable to note the possible and demonstrated biases of any critic when assessing his work. I feel exactly the same way when Hitchens blasts Tolkien on the way to extolling Pullman's trilogy.

"You write funny."

So's your mother.

Wright himself admits that Pullman is a good writer. But that doesn't mean that The Amber Spyglass isn't flawed.

Yes, but my criticism of TAS isn't because of my own personal beliefs. It's because I think it's bad and nonsensical as a fantasy novel, for many of the reasons that Wright writes.

In conclusion, you refuse to address any of the points that the critique actually makes, thus tacitly admitting that the flaws of TAS are, in fact, indefensible. At least by you. And so you concede defeat on this issue. Well done, good sir, it was fun while it lasted, and all that jazz.

Quietus replies: "In conclusion, you refuse to address any of the points that the critique actually makes, thus tacitly admitting that the flaws of TAS are, in fact, indefensible. At least by you."

In fact I addressed this in a post at 1:37, and I'm sure what I said there won't be sufficient for you. If you form a circle with your thumb and forefinger and hold it up in front of your face you can probably guess how much that means to me.

As much fun as the sniping is, Wright makes two basic assertions, with a lot of support.

1) Pullman blows the ending badly. (I agree with this point strongly, and think that the items Wright identifies as flaws in the story are fair.)

2) Pullman couldn't have avoided screwing up the ending, because his desire to have a fundamentally athiest ending is incompatible with the ideas of a good fantasy. (I disagree with this 100%. You *could* write a good story in which the main characters decided that the world was better off without a god, and did something about it. This just isn't it.)

MLS: Hey, you started it with the toy Ark dig. I find a lot of fault of TAS as a fantasy novel (again, bollocks with the religious debate), and you just had to respond in kind with all the maturity you could muster, making assumptions about both why I dislike the book, and about who I am. True, probably most atheist/agnostic/deists who find TAS to be flawed would not be as willing to criticize it. But your presumptuous snipes have been both annoying, so if you were out to flamebait, good job. Nevertheless, this is indeed tiresome. I find flaws with TAS, you don't, we must learn to disagree.

Quietus, the poverty of your prose is exceeded only by the shallowness of your commentary. Have a good night.

Who, being loved, is poor?

I love you too, MLJ.

There is also this bit of stupidity - "When you are told that there is a prophecy that one and only one knife can kill Almighty God, and that one little boy is the one to do it, it breaks a promise to have God turn out to be a drooling cripple who dies by falling out of bed."

It does no such thing if you're an atheist and one of your points is that theistic prophecy - and the claims made about the omnipotence of gawd - are total bullshit.

But that was Wright's point - that Pullman was so focused on his message that her sacrificed the plot.

Well, no, Glaivester - that's assuming there was only one way for the plot to go, and that assumption was based on theistic thinking that "prophecy" must be respected if it's injected into the story.

Given the piss-poor record of the various prophecies of the Repiglican prophets regarding the Iraq war, reasonable people might think that a work of fiction based on that war could present those predictions early on and "disappoint" some moronic readers by having subsequent events not live up to the predictions.

In any event I'm not sure why an atheist author should submit a plot with an ending which makes SuperChristian goobers happy. Perhaps you can tell me why Pullman should have done so.

How will the defeat of god and a trial in which god is executed make SuperChristian goobers happy? How will a massive epic battle where the forces of the Kingdom of Heaven LOSE possibly make them happy?

If it wouldn't make you happy, Q, why would you call for it?

I suspect you're full of offal.

Here's the long list of creative works with anti-Christian themes which SuperChristians don't piss and moan about:

Yup. That's it.

You're assuming that I'm a SuperChristian goober. The Amber Spyglass would be quite fascinating if it had the climatic downfall of the Kingdom of Heaven as Wright describes it. At the very least, it would make for some good reading. Though I wouldn't champion their points of view, I don't quite mind some series that have somewhat anti-Christian themes. I appreciate the works of Lovecraft as much as any guy. The whole In Nomine setting (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_Nomine_(role-playing_game)) is quite blasphemous, yet tells the tale much better of a war between Heaven and Hell much better than Pullman does. Heck, the Diablo video games tell it better than he does. And it's not because it has the good side winning. It's just that much more interesting and compelling.

Q, I'll tell you what - the first time you read an actual B-O-O-K, get back to me and tell me how it felt.

On second thought, don't.

And while we're at it - "climatic" doesn't mean what you think it does.

I read a film novelization once. Does that count?

It was for Weekend at Bernie's 2.

Moe,

Good trolling (and I can troll with the best, when I want to) requires an adversary that either is a troll himself, or an adversary that is easily baited. Quietus is neither, so you come off sounding like an ass.

Skewering Christianity is, for European atheists like Pullman, Darwin, etc., like beating a dead horse. They get to make clever points and then stike a pose for the media. If they're really upset about religion, they should have the courage of their own convictions and go after Allah, as well. But they don't. I wonder why...

Uh, yeah, Darwin was all about "stiking" poses "for the media." Sheesh.

And fundies wonder why rational people consider them to be rancid morons...

I shan't presume intentions, but I believe Claudius was referring to Dawkins, not Darwin.

Whoops. Sorry. Quite right. I meant Dawkins. Typing too fast again...

It would be inaccurate to call Darwin an atheist anyway. Early in life, he was a Christian who came to doubt the literal truth of the Old Testament. Darwin lost his faith, not because of the results of his work (though of course his work did constantly cause him to revisit and refine his beliefs), but because of the death of his 10-year old daughter Annie (in 1851, well after his voyage to the galapagos but before the publication of his major works). Darwin was an unusually attentive and loving father who was devestated by his daughter's death and unable to continue to believe thereafter that suffering came from God rather than from the laws of nature. However, he always maintained that he wasn't an atheist who denied God's existence, but rather an agnostic who had lost his faith. Rumors that he converted back to Christianity on his deathbed are likely apocryphal. Anyway, the point is that Darwin wasn't an atheist and rejected efforts to label him as such, and his loss of faith stemmed not from any belief that his work and belief in God were incompatible, but rather, from personal suffering.

It's worth pointing out too that Wallace, the man who co-discovered evolution (and may have had a slight jump on Darwin) was a believer in God. Not only that, but he became convinced later in life that his discovery of evolution made God a necessity. His argument was that natural selection is a highly stingy and economical regulator, and quickly gets rid of anything that is not conducive to greater fitness. However, man's mental and spiritual capacities were so vastly disproportionate to the biological demands under which man had evolved, that they ought to have been pared away by natural selection; therefore, the human mind and soul could not posisbly be the product of natural selection, and had to be the creation of God. Wallace for the purpose of his argument pointed to a hunter-gatherer in New Guinea who might never use many of the capacities for art, science, religion, technology that a man in England might, yet they both have the same innate capacities, which indicates that such capacities could only have been given to them by God.

Chesterton was a big fan of Wallace (in spite of the latter's left-wing politics) and called him a doubly great man because he carried out not only one intellectual revolution, but two (against creationism and then against evolutionary atheism).

"However, man's mental and spiritual capacities were so vastly disproportionate to the biological demands under which man had evolved, that they ought to have been pared away by natural selection; therefore, the human mind and soul could not posisbly be the product of natural selection, and had to be the creation of God."

Way off the original topic of the thread, but this kind of reasoning (which is basically a version of intelligent design) bothers me, because it implies that there is a conflict between a theory that posits life arising through the action of natural laws, and one that invokes God's will. That doesn't make sense. If you believe in an omnipotent God, God made the natural laws in the first place; why would he need to break them?

More to the point, the reasoning isn't very good. Natural selection doesn't pare away stuff that's unnecessary, just stuff that isn't "fit" (doesn't manage to get itself passed on from one generation to the next). If you have a bunch of random mutations happening over time, each one adding some new trait to an organism, and those traits that are useful get selected, and then there are more random mutations, etc., you have characteristics piling up over time. Increasing complexity is what you would expect from evolution.

It's worth pointing out too that Wallace, the man who co-discovered evolution (and may have had a slight jump on Darwin) was a believer in God.

Several nitpicks: First, Wallace did not "have a slight jump" on Darwin. He independently developed a theory of evolution by natural selection and presented it to Darwin for review, which compelled Darwin to finally publish the work he had been privately developing for two decades.

Second, Wallace was very specifically not a Christian. He was part of the "Spiritualist" movement in Victorian England, which held what might be considered New Agey religious views by today's standards. His views on spiritualism and body/soul dualism are no longer taken seriously. Wallace is primarily important to history as a naturalist and as a staunch opponent of social Darwinism, to his great credit.

Also, what Hugo said. Darwin was never a defender of atheism. He was a proponent of scientific materialism.

Brendan,

Natural selection does pare away things that are unnecessary, as long as they constitute a resource drain (even if a very small resource drain). The brain constitutes a massive resource drain in terms of energy and in terms of developmental time. If natural selection had been operating unaided, there would have been a powerful tendency for the brain to get snaller and less complex.

And no, there's not a natural tendency towards 'complexity' (or if there is, it's completely contrary to selectionism), there's a natural selective pressure towards utility (utility in terms of increased reproductive fitness). Things that do not increase fitness get relentlessly pared away. And it is impossible to see how, during the millions of years that we were evolving from the apes, the mental and spiritual capacities to love one another, worship God, feed the hungry, build ships and automobiles, invent the telephone, discover quantum physics, write a sonata, or contemplate a sunset, were 'useful', considering that we weren't going to be using them until far far in the future. Natural selection optimizes present, immediate utility, and none of those things were immediately useful. Hence, the origin of the mind and soul were a miracle.

Hector wrote: Natural selection does pare away things that are unnecessary, as long as they constitute a resource drain (even if a very sm