I read The Golden Compass for a class when I was twelve, and followed it with The Subtle Knife or whatever the sequel was a year later. I don't remember why exactly, because I don't remember really enjoying the first one. It was a good book I guess, but... I don't want to call it impenetrable, but there were just so many different "look how clever I am in slightly altering this worn-out fantasy idea" elements that I lost track of what was actually happening.
I don't have a problem with traditional fantasy. I like nontraditional fantasy. But when you take a bunch of traditional fantasy ideas, and try to load so many quirks onto them that they seem different while still being largely the same, it feels more like I'm reading the author's ego than a story, and I don't know what different parts of the story are supposed to be doing. I caught the movie adaption a while ago, and with big chunks of the plot removed, it was just a colorful pastiche of teen-fantasy and anti-establishment imagery. Which, looking back on it, sums up my take on the story, even if my younger self didn't grasp the concept yet.
That's right, I am retroactively cynical about a book I barely remember reading. Deal with it.