Things are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a universe that appears, here more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or restructuring themselves along new and troubling lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from states, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the hands of crowds. "Something is at work, silently, very subtly", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and strong are weakening and failing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Just what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that propels this final volume, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, by all accounts, the author's final venture into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling universe he first unveiled in the distant past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose geography aligns with that of the real world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and think and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, essences in animal form; where the air are filled with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but below, transports are taken and beverages is sipped, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still distinctly the spiky and tenacious protagonist of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, warier, more doubtful. This limitation is intensified by her separation from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to go off in search of that childlike part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw the protagonist undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and danger on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister representation of rigid, procedural evil – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's family member, who faults her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the church's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his fresh power to expand the church's control. A key character, who saved young the heroine to refuge along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an academic with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is sent to Geneva to learn more about Delamare's aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and costly rose oil which seems somehow to be the source of a social and economic upheaval emanating out from Central Asia. The substance is viewed by some as a marketable good, by others as a research-based or mystical phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a origin of malevolence; an affront that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its source, its meaning, and whether it should be removed or preserved is escalating in importance.
As in the first series, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are shown to be inextricably connected with the fate of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran largely in parallel. In the conclusion, they converge. Like His Dark Materials, her movements and her fate are unveiled to be inextricably linked with the fate of the world. Her individual mission to reunite with her companion and regain her creativity becomes the central struggle in a wider conflict with an authoritarian government which, as such authorities typically do, is attempting to suppress freedom of thinking, originality and art: all the internal, rebellious ways in which humans can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The book starts with the unveiling of a set of unusual fissures in the structure of the planet's air: portals that seem to open into different dimensions. A particular opening manifests to be the origin of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its leadership, designates these windows as a challenge to the institution's orthodoxy and sets out to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to shift from strict rationalism and return to instinct, yet, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that what they stand for and what they provide is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or whatever we name it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a poetic conflict between naivety and experience is set.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
