Lyra and Marisa Coulter
Marisa Coulter was Edward Coulter's young wife. Lyra, the product of an affair with Lord Asriel, was born when Marisa was just 21. When Lyra was born she obviously resembled Asriel rather than Edward Coulter. Mrs. Coulter gave her up to Asriel, who placed their daughter with a gyptian woman, later found to be Ma Costa. When Mrs. Coulter's husband found out about the affair, he went in a rage to kill the baby Lyra. Lord Asriel fought a duel with him, and ended up the victor. Asriel had his wealth and status taken away in disgrace, and Lyra was placed at a convent. Asriel, outraged, took Lyra from the convent, and placed her at Jordan College, and ordered the Master to never allow Mrs. Coulter to see or speak to Lyra in any way. However, Marisa eventually turns up, intending to take Lyra north. Lyra agrees, but escapes when she discovers Mrs. Coulter's intentions for the stolen children, as the head of the Oblation Board. When Lyra is kidnapped and taken to Bolvangar, Marisa races in to rescue her right as Lyra and Pantalaimon are about to be severed. In the film adaptation, she comforts Lyra and tells her she is her mother. Horrified, Lyra escapes once again, and this time she seeks out Lord Asriel to deliver the alethiometer. Unknowingly, Lyra leads her friend, Roger, to his death, which also lead to the reuniting of Mrs. Coulter and Lord Asriel.
Lord Asriel and Mrs. Coulter meet once again in the Amber Spyglass, when Mrs. Coulter is captured by Asriel's men. She and Asriel join forces to defeat Metatron, the powerful regent of the Authority, simply to give Lyra, their child, a chance to live. They die together in a chasm between worlds.
Read more about this topic: Lord Asriel
Famous quotes containing the word coulter:
“For in the word death
There is nothing to grasp; nothing to catch or claim;
Nothing to adapt the skill of the heart to, skill
In surviving, for death it cannot survive,
Only resign the irrecoverable keys.
The wave falters and drowns. The coulter of joy
Breaks. The harrow of death
Depends. And there are thrown up waves.”
—Philip Larkin (19221986)