| Product Summary | | Format: Hardcover | | ISBN: 9780375838309 | | Publisher: Alfred A. Knopf Books for Young Readers | | Publish Date: 4/10/2007 | | Buy.com Sku: 202532310 | | Item#: RCGCEH | | Buy.com Sales Rank: 68426 | | Dimensions (in Inches) 9.25H x 6.5L x 1.25T | | Pages: 432 | | Edition Number: 10 | | Age Range: 16 to UP |
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| | | | "Lyra and her daemon moved through the darkening hall, taking care to keep to one side, out of sight of the kitchen. The three great tables that ran the length of the hall were laid already, the sliver and the glass catching what little light there was, and the long benches were pulled out ready for the guests..." (from the first line) To celebrate the tenth anniversary of "The Golden Compass," Philip Pullman has created new materials including archival documents, scientific notes, and "found" letters of Lord Asriel. Includes a ribbon bookmark.
Annotation:
An examination of innocence, faith, morality, and sin, THE GOLDEN COMPASS is the first book in the well-respected His Dark Materials trilogy. When she saves her mysterious uncle, Lord Asriel, from an assassination attempt, 11-year-old Lyra Belacqua uncovers a dangerous secret and, ultimately, takes the first steps in a journey that will take her not only to the frozen north, but also to a parallel universe. In short, Lyra is about to discover that she plays a very important part in shaping the destiny of the entire universe. Inspired by John Milton's PARADISE LOST, the His Dark Materials trilogy continues in THE SUBTLE KNIFE and concludes with THE AMBER SPYGLASS.
| PraisePublisher's Catalog
"It's a rich combination of high fantasy, high drama, and intense emotion. Philip Pullman's creation is a world thoroughly realized, completely convincing. Best yet, this volume promises to be the beginning of an ongoing major literary effort. Readers can only wait impatiently." - Lloyd AlexanderNew York Times Book Review
"One of life's pleasures is the experience of plodding through the first few pages of a book and then finding oneself sucked in, flipping the pages to discover what happens next. THE GOLDEN COMPASS is long, but is told simply and draws us on, as one crisis blossoms out of another." - Jane Langton 05/19/1996 New York Times Book Review
"War, politics, magic, science, individual lives and cosmic destinies are all here. They are not flung together, they are shaped and assembled into a narrative of tremendous pace by a man with a generous, precise intelligence....His prose has texture and flexibility, like excellent fabric. And he gives us so much. Suspense, of course, but such degrees of pleasure, excitement...and grief. And such joy--the joy of thinking, of testing your senses and feelings, of knowing your imagination is entering worlds not dreamed of in the usual philosophies." - Margo Jefferson 011/20/2002 |
| Author Bio| Philip Pullman | | Superman and Batman completely changed Philip Pullman's life. Each night they arrived in full-color, ready to take on bad guys and save the world--all in a few pages. Philip loved reading them because "the combination of words and pictures [made for] vivid storytelling." Comic books made him want to tell stories. When he was growing up, he enjoyed listening to radio shows, too. He also loved Sherlock Holmes, Tore Jansoon, Arthur Ransome and Erich Kastner, and spooky ghost stories. Philip always wanted to be a writer, but learned that there is a big difference between WANTING to be a writer and actually DOING it: "Being a writer is nothing, writing a book is a lot. I wanted to DO, not to BE." That's why he tells kids to quit saying--and hoping--that they want to be writers--they need to just do it! Also, he advises young aspiring writers to read a lot. But most importantly, Philip says that being patient is a crucial factor. He has said, "A book is a marathon, not a sprint....Settle in....Pace yourself." Philip is best known for writing historical fiction and ghost stories. His young-adult trilogy, THE RUBY IN SMOKE, THE SHADOW IN THE NORTH, and THE TIGER IN THE WELL, was what put him "on the map" in the States. Since then, he has written many books for young adults that also appeal to adults as well. His wildly well-received fantasy trilogy, His Dark Materials, received many positive reviews and a large audience, as well as a feature film deal. When Philip starts writing, he doesn't think about writing for any specific audience, but aims to write something that's entertaining and also presents the idea or theme of social justice, which Philip thinks is very important. When he's not writing, he sleeps, visits art galleries, draws, and even does some carpentry. A fun fact: He always finishes the working day by writing the first sentence on the next page so it's not blank when he begins to write the next day. |
| | Read A Chapter | Chapter One 1
THE DECANTER OF TOKAY
Lyra and her daemon moved through the darkening hall, taking care to keep to one side, out of sight of the kitchen. The three great tables that ran the length of the hall were laid already, the silver and the glass catching what little light there was, and the long benches were pulled out ready for the guests. Portraits of former Masters hung high up in the gloom along the walls. Lyra reached the dais and looked back at the open kitchen door, and, seeing no one, stepped up beside the high table. The places here were laid with gold, not silver, and the fourteen seats were not oak benches but mahogany chairs with velvet cushions.
Lyra stopped beside the Master's chair and flicked the biggest glass gently with a fingernail. The sound rang clearly through the hall.
"You're not taking this seriously," whispered her daemon. "Behave yourself."
Her daemon's name was Pantalaimon, Click to read more... Chapter One 1
THE DECANTER OF TOKAY
Lyra and her daemon moved through the darkening hall, taking care to keep to one side, out of sight of the kitchen. The three great tables that ran the length of the hall were laid already, the silver and the glass catching what little light there was, and the long benches were pulled out ready for the guests. Portraits of former Masters hung high up in the gloom along the walls. Lyra reached the dais and looked back at the open kitchen door, and, seeing no one, stepped up beside the high table. The places here were laid with gold, not silver, and the fourteen seats were not oak benches but mahogany chairs with velvet cushions.
Lyra stopped beside the Master's chair and flicked the biggest glass gently with a fingernail. The sound rang clearly through the hall.
"You're not taking this seriously," whispered her daemon. "Behave yourself."
Her daemon's name was Pantalaimon, and he was currently in the form of a moth, a dark brown one so as not to show up in the darkness of the hall.
"They're making too much noise to hear from the kitchen," Lyra whispered back. "And the Steward doesn't come in till the first bell. Stop fussing."
But she put her palm over the ringing crystal anyway, and Pantalaimon fluttered ahead and through the slightly open door of the Retiring Room at the other end of the dais. After a moment he appeared again.
"There's no one there," he whispered. "But we must be quick."
Crouching behind the high table, Lyra darted along and through the door into the Retiring Room, where she stood up and looked around. The only light in here came from the fireplace, where a bright blaze of logs settled slightly as she looked, sending a fountain of sparks up into the chimney. She had lived most of her life in the College, but had never seen the Retiring Room before: only Scholars and their guests were allowed in here, and never females. Even the maid- servants didn't clean in here. That was the Butler's job alone.
Pantalaimon settled on her shoulder.
"Happy now? Can we go?" he whispered.
"Don't be silly! I want to look around!"
It was a large room, with an oval table of polished rosewood on which stood various decanters and glasses, and a silver smoking stand with a rack of pipes. On a sideboard nearby there was a little chafing dish and a basket of poppy heads.
"They do themselves well, don't they, Pan?" she said under her breath.
She sat in one of the green leather armchairs. It was so deep she found herself nearly lying down, but she sat up again and tucked her legs under her to look at the portraits on the walls. More old Scholars, probably; robed, bearded, and gloomy, they stared out of their frames in solemn disapproval.
"What d'you think they talk about?" Lyra said, or began to say, because before she'd finished the question she heard voices outside the door.
"Behind the chair-quick!" whispered Pantalaimon, and in a flash Lyra was out of the armchair and crouching behind it. It wasn't the best one for hiding behind: she'd chosen one in the very center of the room, and unless she kept very quiet...
The door opened, and the light changed in the room; one of the incomers was carrying a lamp, which he put down on the sideboard. Lyra could see his legs, in their dark green trousers and shiny black shoes. It was a servant.
Then a deep voice said, "Has Lord Asriel arrived yet?"
It was the Master. As Lyra held her breath, she saw the servant's daemon (a dog, like all servants' daemons) trot in and sit quietly at his feet, and then the Master's feet became visible too, in the shabby black shoes he always wore.
"No, Master," said the Butler. "No word from the aerodock, either."
"I expect he'll be hungry when he arrives. Show him straight into Hall, will you?"
"Very good, Master."
"And you've decanted some of the special Tokay for him?"
"Yes, Master. The 1898, as you ordered. His Lordship is very partial to that, I remember."
"Good. Now leave me, please."
"Do you need the lamp, Master?"
"Yes, leave that too. Look in during dinner to trim it, will you?"
The Butler bowed slightly and turned to leave, his daemon trotting obediently after him. From her not-much-of-a-hiding place Lyra watched as the Master went to a large oak wardrobe in the corner of the room, took his gown from a hanger, and pulled it laboriously on. The Master had been a powerful man, but he was well over seventy now, and his movements were stiff and slow. The Master's daemon had the form of a raven, and as soon as his robe was on, she jumped down from the wardrobe and settled in her accustomed place on his right shoulder.
Lyra could feel Pantalaimon bristling with anxiety, though he made no sound. For herself, she was pleasantly excited. The visitor mentioned by the Master, Lord Asriel, was her uncle, a man whom she admired and feared greatly. He was said to be involved in high politics, in secret exploration, in distant warfare, and she never knew when he was going to appear. He was fierce: if he caught her in here she'd be severely punished, but she could put up with that.
What she saw next, however, changed things completely.
The Master took from his pocket a folded paper and laid it on the table beside the wine. He took the stopper out of the mouth of a decanter containing a rich golden wine, unfolded the paper, and poured a thin stream of white powder into the decanter before crumpling the paper and throwing it into the fire. Then he took a pencil from his pocket, stirred the wine until the powder had dissolved, and replaced the stopper.
His daemon gave a soft brief squawk. The Master replied in an undertone, and looked around with his hooded, clouded eyes before leaving through the door he'd come in by.
Lyra whispered, "Did you see that, Pan?"
"Of course I did! Now hurry out, before the Steward comes!"
But as he spoke, there came the sound of a bell ringing once from the far end of the hall.
"That's the Steward's bell!" said Lyra. "I thought we had more time than that."
Pantalaimon fluttered swiftly to the hall door, and swiftly back.
"The Steward's there already," he said. "And you can't get out of the other door..."
Excerpted from Golden Compass Deluxe Editionby Philip Pullman Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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