Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that appears, in this volume especially, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reassembling themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from authorities, and gathering in the halls of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the hands of rioters. "An element is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says merchant a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and strong are weakening and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where the previous book left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's concluding excursion into the elaborately built, deeply captivating universe he first revealed 30 years ago, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose landscape corresponds to that of this world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are accompanied by daemons, essences in animal form; where the skies are teeming with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, transports are taken and tea is drunk, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the prequel, the introductory book with which the author began the series, is now a adult: still distinctly the prickly and determined heroine of the previous installments, but aged, melancholic, more cautious, less sure. This circumscription is amplified by her separation from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to leave in search of that youthful part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an trait which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which chronicled Lyra undertake a wandering journey across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and danger on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's masterfully eerie incarnation of austere, procedural wickedness – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. The antagonist – our protagonist's family member, who faults her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of president of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his recently acquired power to expand the religion's dominium. Another protagonist, who rescued baby the heroine to security along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is dispatched to a key location to discover more about the antagonist's intentions. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and valuable botanical extract which seems mysteriously to be the cause of a social and economic crisis spreading out from Central Asia. The substance is regarded by various factions as a tradeable product, by different parties as a scientific or spiritual miracle, and by yet others – the zealous "highland figures" – as a origin of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of its source, its significance, and whether it should be eliminated or preserved is becoming urgent.
As in His Dark Materials, Lyra's decisions, and her future, are revealed to be deeply linked with the future of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran largely in parallel. In this final book, they come together. Similar to the first trilogy, the protagonist's movements and her path are shown to be inseparably woven with the destiny of the universe. Her private quest to rejoin with her soul and recover her imagination becomes the central battleground in a broader battle with an oppressive government which, as such authorities often attempt, is seeking to suppress independence of thinking, innovation and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which people can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The story opens with the finding of a set of unusual cracks in the fabric of the planet's sky: gateways that look to lead to different dimensions. An example of a portal seems to be the point of the highly contested botanical substance. The church, with its leader at its leadership, designates these openings as a challenge to the institution's doctrine and sets out to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from strict reason and return to instinct, yet, her conviction that these places must be protected – that their meaning and their value is somehow vital – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a philosophical tussle between purity and maturity is established.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
