Critical Myth-Interpretations

(Note: The following review was written after completion of the first two books in the “His Dark Materials” trilogy; no knowledge of the events or themes of the third book pertains to the commentary.)

Much has been made about the beliefs of the author (he is an avowed atheist) and the potential use of the “His Dark Materials” trilogy as a stealth campaign against Christian ideals, introducing children to atheism through bedtime stories.  I’m not sure I agree.  In reading this second novel of the trilogy, I was instead struck by a much older kind of story, and how the trappings of modern scientific theory were brought together with ancient mythology.

One of the more recognized mythological constructs is the cycle of Creation.  In essence, existing systems and powers break down and become corrupt, requiring a process of extreme and devastating change, thus resulting in the establishment of a new system and power.  This is familiar in the ancient myths of Babylonia and the eddas of the Norse.  In modern popular culture, one might point to “Lord of the Rings” or “Star Wars”.

In the case of this novel, by the end, I felt that I was reading a very familiar story.  The difference was the scope and relevancy.  The scope takes into consideration theories on “dark matter”, the many-worlds theory of quantum mechanics, and the nature of human consciousness.  This is largely used to explore the fundamental nature of the existing system and how it had begun to degrade.

Within the mythological construct, the Christian church has taken authoritative control over many aspects of Lyra’s world.  This has led several non-Christian groups into opposition with the Church, citing its draconian measures.  This concept is applied broadly to world after world to one degree or another, including our own.  But the key is this: the world that brings about the most powerful opposition is the one where the Church has become so corrupted and oppressive that it no longer functions as a Christian society.

Thus Lord Asriel begins a campaign in opposition to the power behind the Church: the Authority (God, for all intent purposes).  This is in keeping with the mythological construct: to repair the damage and decay, the old god(s) must be thrown down and a new Creation must take place.  Hence, Lyra (identified here as the new Eve) and, presumably, Will (likely the new Adam, given his prominence).

The concept, at least within the framework of the trilogy, is that the battle for dominance between God and Satan (to make things simple) ended in such a way that the resulting universe was fundamentally flawed and out of balance.  Thus humans were given consciousness by the minions of Satan through “dark matter” in the hopes that eventually the Authority could be overthrown.  It’s an interesting and provocative idea.

In terms of the author’s intent, it could be interpreted in different ways.  Those wary of his atheism could point out that “killing God” is about as anti-Christian as it gets.  On the other hand, it takes a very old human story and renders it in terms that the modern reader will understand on a fundamental level.  If one were to tell such a story in modern terms, who else would have established the current system that has been corrupted?

Consider: this is precisely the same kind of story that was told in “Star Wars”.  The good and virtuous Jedi became corrupted, bound by draconian rules and traditions.  The galaxy suffered as a whole.  While inherently dark and immoral, the Sith served a larger purpose by bringing down the Jedi and the old system, thus forcing the survivors to find a way to achieve balance.  It was a necessary process of death and rebirth, which is essentially the process taking place in this novel.

Is there a darker purpose to the story as it is told?  Is the author trying to instill atheism in young readers?  Or was the author trying to tell an ancient story within modern trappings?  Perhaps it is a mixture of all possible motivations.  Whatever the case, it is a compelling story because, in the end, it is another iteration of a myth inherent to human experience.

Rating: 8/10

The “Alias” tie-in novels have been hit or miss, even accounting for the switch to the APO period (fourth season).  The prequels were marred by the “young adult” format, which apparently demanded short novels and a lack of maturity and depth.  Sydney’s immaturity and awkward mistakes could be forgiven (to some extent) in the prequels, since they didn’t need to match the series itself on all points.  Unfortunately, books set during the series need to depict the characters as adults.

Sydney spends most of this book as an immature and whiny teenager.  Ostensibly, this story is about Sydney’s jealousy towards her sister Nadia, a situation that makes sense under the circumstances.  Unfortunately, this rivalry is handled horribly.  One might assume, just from this novel, that CIA special ops are run by a high school cheerleading squad.

The author tries to inject some degree of adult sensibility to the story.  At one point, Sydney is dressed to use her cleavage to maximum potential, and later in the book, Nadia goes undercover as an exotic dancer.  Both situations match the tone of the series, but the professionalism necessary to make it work is often tossed aside.  Sydney’s tantrums and idiotic mistakes ruin the suspension of disbelief.

Worse, the author is inconsistent with her portrayal of Eric’s condition.  Eric’s impending death is meant to generate suspense and tension, but it doesn’t work when his symptoms take much longer to present than the medical staff indicates earlier in the book.  The timetable was clearly adjusted to allow the rest of the story to play out over the necessary period of time, and while that’s sometimes a necessity, it should be so obvious.

Rating: 5/10

This is another book from the “Chaos War” series, delving into the massive changes to Dwarf society during that world-shattering conflict.  Coming into the book, I was a bit concerned that I would find it boring.  While the Dragonlance saga is known for its level of detail, particularly in fleshing out some of the archetypes of the fantasy genre, some of the peoples of Ansalon are better in small doses.

The previous novel I reviewed (“The Puppet King”) was written by the same author, covering the effect of the Chaos War on the elven nations, and I liked how the hints and allegations in “Dragons of Summer Flame” were given scope.  I had no recollection of any description of the effects on Thorbardin or the dwarves as a whole, so there were fewer expectations.  That might have helped me enjoy the novel more than I would have otherwise.

Still, one requirement of any such book is that it must stand on its own merits.  The story needs to be complete and compelling on its own.  “The Puppet King” managed to pull it off, but I’m not sure this book would meet that mark.  If this hadn’t been a Dragonlance book, there would have been little interest in the topic or the events depicted.  Even so, I found myself struggling in the beginning, because I simply didn’t care about the fate of the dwarves.

In the end, the story moved quickly enough to make it worth the time, but this is not one of the better novels in the saga.  Using the designations I mentioned in the review for “The Puppet King”, I would call this a mediocre second-tier novel.  There’s nothing vital about it, but it does expand on the fate of one major population during this particular period.  For those looking for more from the Chaos War, this was worth a quick read.  Otherwise, there’s much better supplementary material on the shelves.

Rating: 6/10

The first “Supernatural” novel, “Nevermore”, was received with mixed results by fans of the series. Many found the relative lack of action to be disappointing, and some of the additions to the continuity were questioned. For some, this was good reason to wonder if the tie-in novels would be a disappointment as a whole. Thankfully, fans looking for action should be more pleased with this installment.

On the whole, the story lends itself to the horror genre roots of “Supernatural”, pitting the Brothers Winchester against a curse set forth by a witch in rural Arizona. Every forty years, the curse unleashes a fury of death and murder. Resolving that problem requires a combination of research, careful cooperation with locals and law enforcement, and tons of rock salt. All the usual elements of a solid “Supernatural” episode are therefore represented.

On the positive side, the story never stops moving, and there are enough complications to force Sam and Dean to apply their strengths and contemplate their weaknesses. Observant readers will be able to anticipate a few key plot points, but it’s more about the process taken by the brothers to find the solution. That means solid characterization, and general speaking, the author gets the job done.

This does lead, however, to one complaint. A vital component to any superior “Supernatural” story is exploration of the brothers’ psychology. There are some nice moments in the book, particularly Dean’s memories of his difficult childhood, but there could have been a lot more of that material. It’s almost as if the two books slid towards two opposing extremes, and this was the novel dedicated to the action and style over depth of substance.

Because the scale of the curse was rather large, I found it hard to reconcile some of the reactions from the locals. The mayor and shopping mall manager seemed to be completely insane, ignoring the swath of death throughout the town. It was a more extreme version of the concept used on “Buffy”, where “normal” character would rationalize “paranormal” events, and in this case, it just didn’t make sense. It was so hard to swallow that it took me out of the story on several occasions.

Ultimately, this is still not going to please the fans looking for a literary masterpiece devoted to the Brothers Winchester. It’s a more active story, sometimes to the detriment of the book as a whole, and that makes it an easy enough read. With the effect of the writers’ strike soon to be felt, it’s worth saving for a cold and Winchester-less evening.

Rating: 7/10