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As for what experimental theology was, Lyra had no more idea than the urchins. She had formed the notion that it was concerned with magic, with the movements of the stars and planets, with tiny particles of matter, but that was guesswork, really. Probably the stars had dæmons just as humans did, and experimental theology involved talking to them.Not that Lyra spends much time worrying about it; what she likes best is "clambering over the College roofs with Roger the kitchen boy who was her particular friend, to spit plum stones on the heads of passing Scholars or to hoot like owls outside a window where a tutorial was going on, or racing through the narrow streets, or stealing apples from the market, or waging war." But Lyra's carefree existence changes forever when she and her dæmon, Pantalaimon, first prevent an assassination attempt against her uncle, the powerful Lord Asriel, and then overhear a secret discussion about a mysterious entity known as Dust. Soon she and Pan are swept up in a dangerous game involving disappearing children, a beautiful woman with a golden monkey dæmon, a trip to the far north, and a set of allies ranging from "gyptians" to witches to an armor-clad polar bear.
In The Golden Compass, Philip Pullman has written a masterpiece that transcends genre. It is a children's book that will appeal to adults, a fantasy novel that will charm even the most hardened realist. Best of all, the author doesn't speak down to his audience, nor does he pull his punches; there is genuine terror in this book, and heartbreak, betrayal, and loss. There is also love, loyalty, and an abiding morality that infuses the story but never overwhelms it. This is one of those rare novels that one wishes would never end. Fortunately, its sequel, The Subtle Knife, will help put off that inevitability for a while longer. --Alix Wilber
351 pages, Paperback
First published July 9, 1995


“You cannot change what you are, only what you do.”

“So Lyra and her daemon turned away from the world they were born in, and looked toward the sun, and walked into the sky.”







Tú eres muy pequeña, Lyra, demasiado pequeña para entender estas cosas, pero a pesar de todo te lo explicaré y llegará el día en que lo entenderás: los hombres pasan delante de nuestros ojos como mariposas, como criaturas de una estación efímera. Los amamos, son valientes, orgullosos, guapos, inteligentes, y se mueren casi en seguida. Se mueren tan pronto que tenemos los corazones continuamente atormentados por la pena. Alumbramos a sus hijos, que si nacen hembras son brujas, y si no se convierten en seres humanos. Y después, en un abrir y cerrar de ojos, desaparecen, caen abatidos, mueren, los perdemos. Y lo mismo sucede con nuestros hijos. Cuando un niño va creciendo se figura que es inmortal. Pero su madre sabe que no lo es. Cada vez se hace más doloroso, hasta que finalmente se te parte el corazón. Puede ser que entonces Yambe—Akka venga a por ti. Yambe—Akka es más vieja que la tundra. Tal vez para ella las vidas de las brujas sean tan breves como lo son para nosotros las vidas de los hombres.




