Things are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a realm that seems, now more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from governments, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the treasuries of business empires, the hands of crowds. "Some force is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says businessman a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and solid are deteriorating and failing."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Exactly what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that animates this final volume, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, reportedly, Pullman's final excursion into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting realm he first revealed in the distant past, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose terrain corresponds to that of our world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the people appear and reason and behave like us, but are joined by daemons, essences in beast form; where the skies are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, vehicles are taken and beverages is drunk, and older professors carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in the first volume, the introductory book with which the author began this trilogy, is now a adult: still recognisably the prickly and tenacious protagonist of the prior volumes, but older, more sorrowful, more cautious, less sure. This circumscription is heightened by her division from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to go off in search of that youthful part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed the protagonist undertake a adventurous journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in action, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister representation of rigid, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's family member, who holds responsible her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the position of president of the Magisterium's High Council, and is determined on using his recently acquired influence to broaden the institution's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who carried baby Lyra to security along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in spycraft: he is dispatched to the city to find out more about the antagonist's plans. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and valuable essential oil which manifests mysteriously to be the cause of a social and economic crisis rippling out from Central Asia. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a marketable product, by others as a research-based or esoteric wonder, and by others still – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of darkness; an affront that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its source, its significance, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is becoming urgent.
As in the first series, Lyra's deeds, and her fate, are shown to be deeply connected with the fate of the world
In the previous volume, these plots ran broadly in tandem. In the conclusion, they come together. Similar to the first trilogy, her choices and her path are revealed to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the world. Her personal journey to rejoin with her companion and regain her vision becomes the key struggle in a larger war with an authoritarian system which, as such authorities often attempt, is seeking to stifle freedom of thinking, innovation and art: all the personal, defiant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The novel starts with the discovery of a set of unusual fissures in the makeup of the planet's sky: gateways that seem to give on to other worlds. A particular window seems to be the source of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The authority, with the antagonist at its helm, classifies these openings as a challenge to the religion's doctrine and aims to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from inflexible reason and revert to instinct, however, her certainty that these locations must be protected – that their meaning and what they provide is in some way crucial – strengthens. "Dust, or rose oil, or the vision, or the field of roses, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a Blakean tussle between naivety and experience is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
