Things are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from states, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the coffers of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "An element is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and strong are deteriorating and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that propels this final volume, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, by all accounts, the author's concluding foray into the elaborately built, deeply captivating world he first unveiled in the distant past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a world whose geography maps on to that of the real world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and act like us, but are paired by external spirits, essences in beast form; where the heavens are populated with witches and mythical beasts, but below, buses are caught and drinks is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in the first volume, the origin story with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still distinctly the spiky and tenacious heroine of the earlier books, but aged, melancholic, more cautious, more doubtful. This restraint is amplified by her division from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to leave in search of that childlike part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an quality which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque journey across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with marvel and peril on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious controlling power, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of austere, bureaucratic wickedness – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's relative, who blames her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the position of leader of the church's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his fresh power to expand the church's rule. Another protagonist, who rescued infant the heroine to safety along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is dispatched to Geneva to learn more about the antagonist's plans. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and valuable rose oil which appears mysteriously to be the source of a social and financial upheaval emanating out from Central Asia. The substance is seen by certain groups as a marketable product, by different parties as a scientific or spiritual wonder, and by yet others – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an insult that must be obliterated. The issue of where it comes from, its meaning, and if it should be removed or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the first series, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are revealed to be inextricably linked with the future of the world
In the previous volume, these narratives ran mostly in side by side. In The Rose Field, they converge. As in His Dark Materials, the protagonist's movements and her fate are unveiled to be inseparably woven with the future of the universe. Her personal mission to reconnect with her daemon and rediscover her vision becomes the central struggle in a wider battle with an oppressive government which, as these systems often attempt, is attempting to stifle autonomy of thought, creativity and expression: all the inner, defiant ways in which individuals can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The story starts with the unveiling of a series of unusual cracks in the fabric of the Earth's atmosphere: windows that look to lead to other worlds. One such portal appears to be the origin of the much debated rose oil. The Magisterium, with its leader at its helm, labels these openings as a threat to the church's doctrine and sets out to destroy them. As the heroine begins to turn away from strict logic and return to instinct, however, her belief that these sites must be defended – that their meaning and their value is mysteriously vital – increases. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or whatever we name it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a philosophical tussle between purity and knowledge is established.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
