Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that appears, here more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along new and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from authorities, and accumulating in the offices of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the grasp of mobs. "Something is at work, silently, very subtly", says merchant a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and strong are deteriorating and failing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Just what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where its predecessor left off. This is, by all accounts, the author's final venture into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting universe he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a world whose geography maps on to that of our world, but whose history veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and think and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, souls in animal form; where the heavens are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, transports are ridden and drinks is consumed, and middle-aged professors carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still clearly the prickly and tenacious heroine of the prior volumes, but more mature, melancholic, more cautious, less sure. This restraint is amplified by her split from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to leave in pursuit of that innocent part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an trait which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with wonder and danger on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in action, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the church's governing authority, and the author's masterfully eerie incarnation of rigid, administrative evil – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's family member, who faults her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of president of the church's ruling assembly, and is set on using his fresh power to extend the church's control. Another protagonist, who carried young Lyra to refuge along a swollen river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an academic with a additional duty in spycraft: he is assigned to Geneva to find out more about Delamare's aims. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and costly essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the source of a societal and economic disturbance emanating out from the region. The extract is regarded by various factions as a tradeable product, by others as a research-based or esoteric phenomenon, and by yet others – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an challenge that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its source, its significance, and whether it should be removed or preserved is escalating in importance.
As in the first series, our protagonist's actions, and her future, are revealed to be deeply entwined with the future of the universe
In its predecessor, these storylines ran broadly in tandem. In this final book, they come together. Like the first trilogy, her actions and her path are shown to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the world. Her personal mission to reconnect with her daemon and regain her imagination becomes the central struggle in a larger battle with an controlling system which, as such authorities often attempt, is striving to suppress independence of thinking, originality and culture: all the inner, defiant ways in which people can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The book starts with the unveiling of a collection of unusual cracks in the structure of the Earth's air: portals that look to give on to other worlds. An example of a portal appears to be the origin of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its head, designates these windows as a challenge to the institution's beliefs and sets out to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to shift from rigid rationalism and return to intuition, however, her belief that these places must be defended – that their meaning and what they provide is mysteriously essential – strengthens. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a Blakean tussle between naivety and maturity is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
