Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a realm that manifests, here more than ever, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is draining from states, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and strong are weakening and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that propels this final volume, which continues where its predecessor ended. This is, by all accounts, the author's last foray into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating realm he first introduced 30 years ago, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose landscape maps on to that of our world, but whose history veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and think and behave like us, but are joined by external spirits, souls in creature form; where the skies are teeming with witches and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, vehicles are ridden and tea is consumed, and mature scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a child in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the first volume, the origin story with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious protagonist of the prior volumes, but older, sadder, more cautious, less sure. This limitation is heightened by her separation from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to depart in search of that innocent part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an quality which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a wandering journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with wonder and peril on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in action, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the faith's governing authority, and the author's deliciously chilling representation of rigid, procedural evil – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's uncle, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the role of leader of the authority's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his fresh influence to expand the church's dominium. Another protagonist, who carried baby Lyra to security along a flooded Thames as an child in the prequel, is now an academic with a secondary role in espionage: he is dispatched to the city to learn more about Delamare's intentions. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and precious botanical extract which manifests somehow to be the source of a societal and economic crisis rippling out from the region. The substance is seen by some as a marketable good, by alternate groups as a research-based or spiritual wonder, and by others still – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a source of evil; an challenge that must be eradicated. The dilemma of where it comes from, what it stands for, and whether it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.
Similar to the original trilogy, the heroine's deeds, and her destiny, are revealed to be deeply linked with the fate of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran broadly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they merge. Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions and her fate are revealed to be deeply woven with the future of the realm. Her private mission to reunite with her daemon and regain her creativity becomes the key conflict in a wider war with an oppressive government which, as these systems often attempt, is striving to quell independence of thinking, creativity and expression: all the personal, rebellious ways in which people can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The story begins with the discovery of a collection of curious cracks in the fabric of the Earth's atmosphere: gateways that look to lead to alternate realities. An example of a portal appears to be the origin of the highly contested botanical substance. The authority, with Delamare at its helm, classifies these windows as a threat to the religion's orthodoxy and endeavors to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from inflexible reason and back to instinct, yet, her certainty that these places must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "The substance, or the substance, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a philosophical conflict between innocence and maturity is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
