Tings are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that manifests, in this volume especially, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Institutions are failing, or restructuring themselves along new and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from states, and gathering in the offices of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the control of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and solid are weakening and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels the concluding book, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, reportedly, the author's last excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose geography maps on to that of this world, but whose history veers and changes with ours; where the individuals appear and think and act like us, but are accompanied by daemons, essences in creature form; where the skies are teeming with witches and mythical beasts, but underneath, transports are caught and drinks is consumed, and mature scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the prequel, the prequel with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still clearly the spiky and persistent protagonist of the earlier books, but aged, sadder, warier, more doubtful. This circumscription is amplified by her separation from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to go off in pursuit of that childlike part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an trait which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a wandering journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and peril on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister representation of austere, procedural malice – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's family member, who blames her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the role of leader of the church's ruling assembly, and is set on using his recently acquired influence to expand the church's control. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued baby the heroine to security along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an academic with a additional duty in espionage: he is assigned to the city to learn more about Delamare's plans. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and costly essential oil which seems in some way to be the source of a societal and economic disturbance rippling out from Central Asia. The substance is viewed by various factions as a marketable commodity, by alternate groups as a empirical or spiritual miracle, and by others still – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an insult that must be eradicated. The issue of where it comes from, its meaning, and whether it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.
Similar to the first series, our protagonist's actions, and her future, are shown to be inextricably linked with the destiny of the world
In the previous volume, these narratives ran largely in parallel. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to the original series, Lyra's movements and her destiny are unveiled to be inextricably linked with the fate of the universe. Her individual journey to reconnect with her soul and recover her vision becomes the primary conflict in a wider conflict with an controlling regime which, as these systems always have, is attempting to suppress independence of thought, originality and art: all the personal, defiant ways in which people can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The book begins with the discovery of a series of unusual fissures in the structure of the Earth's air: gateways that appear to lead to other worlds. An example of a portal appears to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The church, with Delamare at its helm, classifies these openings as a threat to the religion's orthodoxy and endeavors to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from inflexible reason and revert to feeling, yet, her belief that these sites must be defended – that what they stand for and what they offer is in some way vital – strengthens. "The substance, or the substance, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or whatever we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a philosophical conflict between purity and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
