Tings are unraveling in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, in this volume especially, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from authorities, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of conglomerates, the grasp of mobs. "Some force is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and solid are faltering and giving way."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that animates The Rose Field, which continues where its predecessor concluded. This is, according to many, the author's concluding excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting realm he first revealed 30 years ago, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose terrain maps on to that of this world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and behave like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, beings in animal form; where the heavens are filled with enchantresses and gryphons, but below, transports are caught and drinks is consumed, and middle-aged scholars carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the prequel with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still recognisably the prickly and determined protagonist of the earlier books, but aged, more sorrowful, warier, less sure. This circumscription is intensified by her separation from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to go off in pursuit of that childlike part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an quality which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed Lyra undertake a wandering trek across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with amazement and risk on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of rigid, procedural wickedness – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's uncle, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the office of leader of the church's High Council, and is determined on using his fresh authority to extend the church's control. Another protagonist, who carried baby Lyra to refuge along a flooded Thames as an child in the prequel, is now an academic with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to the city to find out more about Delamare's aims. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and valuable essential oil which seems somehow to be the origin of a societal and economic disturbance emanating out from the region. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a tradeable product, by different parties as a research-based or esoteric phenomenon, and by others still – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a source of darkness; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of its origins, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Like the original trilogy, our protagonist's actions, and her destiny, are revealed to be deeply entwined with the fate of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran broadly in side by side. In this final book, they come together. Like His Dark Materials, her actions and her destiny are shown to be inextricably woven with the future of the universe. Her personal quest to rejoin with her companion and regain her imagination becomes the primary conflict in a broader conflict with an authoritarian regime which, as such authorities often attempt, is striving to stifle independence of thought, creativity and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which humans can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The story begins with the unveiling of a collection of curious cracks in the structure of the Earth's sky: portals that look to give on to different dimensions. An example of a window appears to be the origin of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The Magisterium, with its leader at its leadership, designates these portals as a problem to the church's orthodoxy and aims to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict rationalism and revert to instinct, however, her certainty that these places must be preserved – that their meaning and what they offer is mysteriously crucial – increases. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or whatever we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a philosophical struggle between purity and experience is established.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
