Things are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that appears, in this volume especially, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from states, and gathering in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of conglomerates, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, very quietly, gradually", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and solid are weakening and failing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Just what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that drives this final volume, which resumes where the previous book ended. This is, by all accounts, the author's last foray into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating world he first introduced 30 years ago, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose terrain corresponds to that of our world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and reason and behave like us, but are joined by external spirits, souls in animal form; where the skies are populated with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but below, transports are taken and beverages is drunk, and middle-aged professors carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the introductory book with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still clearly the sharp and determined main character of the previous installments, but older, melancholic, warier, more doubtful. This restraint is heightened by her separation from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to go off in quest of that childlike part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an quality which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and danger on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the religious governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie incarnation of austere, procedural wickedness – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's family member, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the authority's governing body, and is determined on using his newfound authority to extend the institution's dominium. Another protagonist, who rescued young Lyra to refuge along a swollen Thames as an child in the prequel, is now an academic with a sideline in spycraft: he is assigned to the city to learn more about his intentions. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious rose oil which appears mysteriously to be the cause of a social and financial disturbance rippling out from the region. The oil is seen by certain groups as a tradeable product, by different parties as a empirical or mystical wonder, and by further factions – the zealous "highland figures" – as a wellspring of evil; an insult that must be eradicated. The question of where it comes from, what it stands for, and if it should be destroyed or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in the first series, our protagonist's decisions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran largely in side by side. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to the original series, the protagonist's movements and her destiny are revealed to be inextricably linked with the fate of the world. Her personal mission to reunite with her soul and regain her vision becomes the primary conflict in a larger war with an controlling system which, as these systems typically do, is attempting to suppress autonomy of thought, originality and art: all the personal, resistant ways in which people can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The story starts with the finding of a series of unusual cracks in the structure of the world's sky: portals that appear to lead to different dimensions. An example of a opening appears to be the source of the much debated botanical substance. The church, with its leader at its leadership, labels these openings as a problem to the religion's doctrine and aims to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to move from strict logic and revert to intuition, nevertheless, her certainty that these locations must be defended – that their significance and their value is somehow crucial – grows. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the vision, or the field of roses, or whatever we label it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a philosophical tussle between purity and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
