Things are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a universe that manifests, here more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reorganizing themselves along novel and troubling lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is draining from authorities, and pooling in the offices of religious leaders, the vaults of business empires, the hands of mobs. "Something is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were secure and strong are deteriorating and failing."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that drives The Rose Field, which picks up where its predecessor ended. This is, according to many, the author's last venture into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting universe he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a world whose geography maps on to that of the real world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the people appear and think and act like us, but are paired by daemons, souls in creature form; where the heavens are filled with witches and mythical beasts, but underneath, vehicles are taken and tea is consumed, and middle-aged scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the first volume, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the sharp and tenacious heroine of the prior volumes, but older, melancholic, warier, less sure. This limitation is intensified by her separation from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to go off in search of that youthful part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he represents as her "imagination"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a wandering voyage across the continent and into the Caucasus, facing with wonder and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in action, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the religious governing authority, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of rigid, administrative wickedness – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the position of leader of the authority's governing body, and is intent on using his recently acquired power to broaden the institution's dominium. A key character, who carried baby Lyra to refuge along a flooded Thames as an child in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in espionage: he is dispatched to a key location to discover more about his intentions. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and valuable rose oil which manifests in some way to be the origin of a social and financial disturbance emanating out from that area. The oil is seen by certain groups as a marketable good, by alternate groups as a empirical or spiritual miracle, and by others still – the zealous "highland figures" – as a wellspring of evil; an insult that must be eradicated. The issue of its source, its significance, and whether it should be destroyed or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be inextricably linked with the destiny of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran largely in side by side. In this final book, they merge. Similar to the first trilogy, the protagonist's actions and her destiny are revealed to be inextricably woven with the fate of the universe. Her personal journey to reconnect with her companion and rediscover her vision becomes the key struggle in a broader war with an oppressive system which, as such authorities typically do, is attempting to suppress independence of thought, innovation and art: all the personal, defiant ways in which individuals can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The book begins with the unveiling of a series of unusual fissures in the makeup of the world's sky: portals that seem to lead to different dimensions. One such portal seems to be the origin of the highly contested rose oil. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its head, classifies these windows as a threat to the institution's doctrine and aims to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to shift from inflexible rationalism and back to feeling, however, her certainty that these places must be defended – that what they stand for and what they offer is somehow crucial – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a philosophical struggle between naivety and knowledge is set.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
