Review by Ian Keogh
Stéphane Melchior’s graphic novel adaptations of Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy have run to three books per original volume, but whereas the English translations of Northern Lights were issued separately, this edition combines the continuation’s three books. As was previously the case, Melchior is as faithful as he can be to the original novel, allowing for the necessities of transforming one artform to another. While there were some theological discussions in Northern Lights, The Subtle Knife is where Pullman really begins to dig in. Indeed while the title refers to a device, it could equally apply to Pullman’s consideration of organised religious belief.
In addition to the new format, there’s a new artist in Thomas Gilbert. He has a track record in France, and while taking a slightly tighter approach to the art, he fits well with what’s been seen before, the most obvious difference being the occasionally enlarged eyes. He packs the panels onto the page to ensure the story is told, is imaginative when it comes to the exotic locations, and delivers movement well. His greatest strength, though, is an ability to create a sinister mood, not just in the presence of obviously malevolent people, but to sustain suspense around Lyra. We’re convinced of her good intentions, but others are unknown quantities.
Northern Lights ended with Lyra and her daemon Pan having lived through considerable heartbreak and tragedy before escaping to another world. Naturally, readers will want to see how she’s doing, but Melchior remains true to Pullman prolonging the suspense by introducing Will and his nervous mother. She’s a tragic figure intimidated by men visiting and asking questions about her explorer husband whom she believes dead. While Lyra originated on an alternative version of the Earth we’re familiar with, initially at least Will occupies our reality. He, though, also discovers a doorway leading elsewhere, which is where he meets Lyra, apparently the sole other occupant of an otherwise deserted place.
The knife of the title is a device that can cut slits into other worlds, through which people can pass, meaning there’s hope both Lyra and Will can reunite with friends. Those friends, and their enemies, are also seen as Pullman’s plot rockets forward solving several mysteries and imaginatively creating new worlds and new connections.
Any fan who watched the TV dramatisation of Pullman’s work will be aware it was contracted, but Melchior provides the midway point between novel and TV show. Illustrations increase the wonder, and yet there’s room for scenes and characters missing on the screen. The result is a rich experience generated from an already incredible story.
