Tings are unraveling in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that manifests, here more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, 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 draining from governments, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the hands of crowds. "Something is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says businessman a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Things we thought were secure and solid are weakening and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that animates The Rose Field, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, according to many, the author's final foray into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating world he first introduced in the distant past, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose landscape corresponds to that of our world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people appear and reason and act like us, but are paired by daemons, souls in beast form; where the heavens are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but below, vehicles are ridden and tea is drunk, and middle-aged professors carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the spiky and persistent protagonist of the previous installments, but aged, more sorrowful, more careful, less sure. This limitation is amplified by her split from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to leave in quest of that childlike part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with amazement and risk on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in motion, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the religious controlling power, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister embodiment of rigid, bureaucratic wickedness – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. The antagonist – Lyra's family member, who blames her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of leader of the church's governing body, and is set on using his newfound power to broaden the institution's rule. Another protagonist, who rescued young the heroine to safety along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in espionage: he is assigned to a key location to learn more about his intentions. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and precious essential oil which manifests somehow to be the cause of a social and financial disturbance emanating out from that area. The extract is seen by various factions as a tradeable product, by others as a empirical or esoteric miracle, and by further factions – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a source of darkness; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of its source, its meaning, and whether it should be destroyed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Like the original trilogy, Lyra's deeds, and her fate, are shown to be inextricably linked with the fate of the realm
In the previous volume, these storylines ran broadly in tandem. In the conclusion, they merge. As in His Dark Materials, her choices and her destiny are revealed to be inextricably linked with the fate of the realm. Her personal mission to reconnect with her companion and rediscover her imagination becomes the central battleground in a broader conflict with an controlling system which, as these systems always have, is striving to quell freedom of reason, creativity and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which humans can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The book starts with the unveiling of a collection of strange openings in the structure of the planet's air: portals that look to lead to alternate realities. An example of a window seems to be the source of the much debated botanical substance. The church, with the antagonist at its helm, classifies these windows as a threat to the religion's orthodoxy and aims to destroy them. As the heroine begins to shift from strict reason and back to instinct, yet, her belief that these places must be preserved – that their meaning and what they offer is somehow vital – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a philosophical struggle between naivety and maturity is set.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
