Death of God (Philip Pullman)
March 28th 2008 03:51
From The Amber Spyglass (2000).
In Pullmanverse "God" isn't the creator, but merely the first of the angels (he lied to the angels born after him).
Moreover, angels are physical beings.
"Well, where is God," said Mrs Coulter, "if he's alive? And why doesn't he speak any more? At the beginning of the world, God walked in the garden and spoke with Adam and Eve. Then he began to withdraw, and Moses only heard his voice. Later, in the time of Daniel, he was aged -- he was the Ancient of Days. Where is he now? Is he still alive, at some inconceivable age, decrepit and demented, unable to think or act or speak and unable to die, a rotten hulk? And if that is his condition, wouldn't it be the most merciful thing, the truest proof of our love for God, to seek him out and give him the gift of death?"
Later, having landed her vessel, an "intention craft", Mrs Coulter comes upon God.
Before she could make up her mind which way to go, she heard voices, and withdrew behind a column. The voices were singing a psalm, and coming closer, and then she saw a procession of angels carrying a litter...
Mrs Coulter was close enough to see the being in the litter: an angel, she thought, and indescribably aged. He wasn't easy to see, because the litter was enclosed all round with crystal that glittered and threw back the enveloping light of the mountain, but she had the impression of terrifying decrepitude, of a face sunken in wrinkles, of trembling hands and a mumbling mouth and rheumy eyes.
The aged being gestured shakily at the intention craft, and cackled and muttered to himself, plucking incessantly at his beard, and then threw back his head and uttered a howl of such anguish that Mrs Coulter had to cover her ears.
Skip forward a chapter, and, in the middle of a battle, two children, Will and Lyra, come upon God. The children don't know who he is.
"Oh, Will, he's still alive! But -- the poor thing..."
Will saw her hands pressing against the crystal, trying to reach to the angel and comfort him; because he was so old, and he was terrified, crying like a baby and cowering away into the lowest corner.
"He must be so old -- I've never seen anyone suffering like that -- oh, Will, can't we let him out?"
Will cut through the crystal in one movement and reached in to help the angel out. Demented and powerless, the aged being could only weep and mumble in fear and pain and misery, and he shrank away from what seemed like yet another threat.
"It's all right," Will said, "we can help you hide, at least. Come on, we won't hurt you."
The shaking hand seized his and feebly held on. The old one was uttering a wordless groaning whimper that went on and on, and grinding his teeth, and compulsively plucking at himself with his free hand; but as Lyra reached in too to help him out, he tried to smile, and to bow, and his ancient eyes deep in their wrinkles blinked at her with innocent wonder.
Between them they helped the ancient of days out of his crystal cell; it wasn't hard, for he was as light as paper, and he would have followed them anywhere, having no will of his own, and responding to simple kindness like a flower to the sun. But in the open air there was nothing to stop the wind from damaging him, and to their dismay his form began to loosen and dissolve. Only a few moments later he had vanished completely, and their last impression was of those eyes blinking in wonder, and a sigh of the most profound and exhausted relief.
Then he was gone: a mystery dissolving in mystery.
What was that quote from Eliot's "Hollow Men" again?...
***
In Pullmanverse "God" isn't the creator, but merely the first of the angels (he lied to the angels born after him).
Moreover, angels are physical beings.
"Well, where is God," said Mrs Coulter, "if he's alive? And why doesn't he speak any more? At the beginning of the world, God walked in the garden and spoke with Adam and Eve. Then he began to withdraw, and Moses only heard his voice. Later, in the time of Daniel, he was aged -- he was the Ancient of Days. Where is he now? Is he still alive, at some inconceivable age, decrepit and demented, unable to think or act or speak and unable to die, a rotten hulk? And if that is his condition, wouldn't it be the most merciful thing, the truest proof of our love for God, to seek him out and give him the gift of death?"
***
Later, having landed her vessel, an "intention craft", Mrs Coulter comes upon God.
Before she could make up her mind which way to go, she heard voices, and withdrew behind a column. The voices were singing a psalm, and coming closer, and then she saw a procession of angels carrying a litter...
Mrs Coulter was close enough to see the being in the litter: an angel, she thought, and indescribably aged. He wasn't easy to see, because the litter was enclosed all round with crystal that glittered and threw back the enveloping light of the mountain, but she had the impression of terrifying decrepitude, of a face sunken in wrinkles, of trembling hands and a mumbling mouth and rheumy eyes.
The aged being gestured shakily at the intention craft, and cackled and muttered to himself, plucking incessantly at his beard, and then threw back his head and uttered a howl of such anguish that Mrs Coulter had to cover her ears.
***
Skip forward a chapter, and, in the middle of a battle, two children, Will and Lyra, come upon God. The children don't know who he is.
"Oh, Will, he's still alive! But -- the poor thing..."
Will saw her hands pressing against the crystal, trying to reach to the angel and comfort him; because he was so old, and he was terrified, crying like a baby and cowering away into the lowest corner.
"He must be so old -- I've never seen anyone suffering like that -- oh, Will, can't we let him out?"
Will cut through the crystal in one movement and reached in to help the angel out. Demented and powerless, the aged being could only weep and mumble in fear and pain and misery, and he shrank away from what seemed like yet another threat.
"It's all right," Will said, "we can help you hide, at least. Come on, we won't hurt you."
The shaking hand seized his and feebly held on. The old one was uttering a wordless groaning whimper that went on and on, and grinding his teeth, and compulsively plucking at himself with his free hand; but as Lyra reached in too to help him out, he tried to smile, and to bow, and his ancient eyes deep in their wrinkles blinked at her with innocent wonder.
Between them they helped the ancient of days out of his crystal cell; it wasn't hard, for he was as light as paper, and he would have followed them anywhere, having no will of his own, and responding to simple kindness like a flower to the sun. But in the open air there was nothing to stop the wind from damaging him, and to their dismay his form began to loosen and dissolve. Only a few moments later he had vanished completely, and their last impression was of those eyes blinking in wonder, and a sigh of the most profound and exhausted relief.
Then he was gone: a mystery dissolving in mystery.
***
What was that quote from Eliot's "Hollow Men" again?...
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