Things are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that seems, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from authorities, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the control of rioters. "An element is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and durable are weakening and failing."
Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that propels the concluding book, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, reportedly, the author's last foray into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating world he first introduced 30 years ago, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose geography aligns with that of this world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and act like us, but are paired by daemons, beings in creature form; where the skies are populated with witches and mythical beasts, but below, vehicles are caught and beverages is drunk, and older professors carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first met as a child in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began the series, is now a young woman: still distinctly the spiky and persistent heroine of the prior volumes, but more mature, more sorrowful, more careful, less certain. This limitation is heightened by her division from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to depart in pursuit of that youthful part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a wandering journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and peril on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in play, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and the author's deliciously chilling representation of austere, procedural malice – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – the heroine's uncle, who faults her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the office of head of the authority's governing body, and is determined on using his newfound power to expand the institution's rule. A key character, who saved young Lyra to security along a overflowing Thames as an child in the first book, is now an academic with a secondary role in spycraft: he is assigned to Geneva to find out more about Delamare's plans. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and precious botanical extract which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a social and financial disturbance emanating out from the region. The substance is seen by some as a commercial good, by different parties as a research-based or esoteric miracle, and by further factions – the extremist "highland figures" – as a source of darkness; an insult that must be obliterated. The issue of where it comes from, its significance, and if it should be removed or protected is escalating in importance.
Like the first series, our protagonist's deeds, and her future, are shown to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the universe
In its predecessor, these storylines ran mostly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to the original series, the protagonist's actions and her destiny are shown to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the realm. Her personal mission to reunite with her daemon and rediscover her creativity becomes the key battleground in a larger conflict with an controlling government which, as such regimes often attempt, is striving to suppress independence of reason, innovation and expression: all the internal, resistant ways in which people can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The story begins with the discovery of a set of strange cracks in the structure of the Earth's sky: portals that seem to give on to different dimensions. An example of a window seems to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its leadership, designates these openings as a threat to the church's orthodoxy and endeavors to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from inflexible logic and back to feeling, nevertheless, her belief that these locations must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is in some way essential – increases. "Cosmic particles, 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 poetic struggle between naivety and maturity is established.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
