Things are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's masterful trilogies set in a realm that seems, here more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or reorganizing themselves along novel and troubling lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from authorities, and gathering in the offices of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the control of rioters. "An element is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and strong are weakening and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Exactly what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that animates The Rose Field, which resumes where its predecessor left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting world he first revealed 30 years ago, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a world whose geography aligns with that of the real world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and reason and behave like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, essences in creature form; where the heavens are teeming with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, buses are caught and drinks is sipped, and older scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a child in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the prequel, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still distinctly the sharp and determined protagonist of the earlier books, but older, melancholic, more careful, less sure. This restraint is heightened by her separation from her daemon, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to depart in search of that childlike part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an trait which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and danger on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in play, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of strict, bureaucratic wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. The antagonist – the heroine's uncle, who faults her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the role of president of the church's High Council, and is set on using his newfound authority to broaden the religion's control. Malcolm Polstead, who carried infant Lyra to safety along a flooded Thames as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in espionage: he is assigned to a key location to find out more about the antagonist's aims. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and precious botanical extract which manifests somehow to be the source of a societal and economic disturbance emanating out from that area. The substance is regarded by various factions as a tradeable product, by others as a empirical or esoteric wonder, and by yet others – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of darkness; an insult that must be obliterated. The issue of where it comes from, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or preserved is becoming urgent.
Similar to the original trilogy, our protagonist's deeds, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be inseparably connected with the fate of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran mostly in tandem. In this final book, they converge. Like the first trilogy, Lyra's actions and her destiny are revealed to be inextricably woven with the fate of the world. Her personal mission to reconnect with her soul and rediscover her imagination becomes the central battleground in a larger battle with an authoritarian regime which, as these systems typically do, is striving to suppress freedom of reason, innovation and art: all the personal, defiant ways in which people can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The book begins with the finding of a series of strange fissures in the fabric of the planet's air: gateways that appear to give on to alternate realities. One such window manifests to be the origin of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The authority, with Delamare at its leadership, labels these openings as a threat to the religion's beliefs and sets out to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict rationalism and revert to feeling, however, her belief that these locations must be defended – that what they stand for and their value is somehow essential – strengthens. "Dust, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a Blakean struggle between purity and knowledge is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
