Tings are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that manifests, now more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from governments, and gathering in the chambers of religious leaders, the coffers of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and solid are weakening and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding excursion into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating world he first unveiled three decades past, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose landscape corresponds to that of the real world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the people appear and reason and behave like us, but are paired by external spirits, essences in creature form; where the skies are populated with witches and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, transports are ridden and drinks is drunk, and older academics carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the first volume, the introductory book with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the prickly and tenacious protagonist of the prior volumes, but more mature, sadder, warier, more doubtful. This circumscription is amplified by her division from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to depart in quest of that innocent part of her which she may have forgotten (an quality which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which saw the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and danger on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in play, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister embodiment of rigid, procedural evil – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's family member, who faults her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of leader of the Magisterium's governing body, and is determined on using his recently acquired power to broaden the institution's control. A key character, who saved infant the heroine to safety along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in spycraft: he is dispatched to Geneva to find out more about his aims. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and valuable botanical extract which manifests somehow to be the origin of a societal and financial crisis rippling out from that area. The extract is seen by some as a tradeable good, by different parties as a research-based or esoteric miracle, and by yet others – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a origin of malevolence; an insult that must be eradicated. The issue of where it comes from, its meaning, and if it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.
As in the first series, our protagonist's decisions, and her future, are shown to be inseparably connected with the destiny of the universe
In its predecessor, these plots ran largely in side by side. In this final book, they come together. Similar to the first trilogy, Lyra's choices and her fate are shown to be inseparably linked with the future of the realm. Her private journey to reunite with her companion and regain her imagination becomes the key battleground in a broader conflict with an oppressive regime which, as these systems often attempt, is attempting to suppress independence of thinking, innovation and art: all the personal, defiant ways in which individuals can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The story opens with the finding of a series of curious openings in the structure of the Earth's air: windows that look to give on to alternate realities. A particular opening appears to be the point of the highly contested rose oil. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its leadership, designates these openings as a challenge to the institution's orthodoxy and aims to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from rigid rationalism and revert to feeling, nevertheless, her belief that these sites must be defended – that their meaning and their value is mysteriously essential – strengthens. "Dust, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a philosophical struggle between naivety and knowledge is prepared.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
