Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, in this volume especially, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from authorities, and gathering in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "Something is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says trader a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and durable are faltering and failing."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that drives this final volume, which continues where the previous book ended. This is, reportedly, Pullman's concluding foray into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting universe he first revealed three decades past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose landscape aligns with that of the real world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and think and behave like us, but are paired by external spirits, essences in creature form; where the air are filled with sorceresses and gryphons, but underneath, transports are caught and beverages is consumed, and middle-aged scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the first volume, the origin story with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still recognisably the sharp and persistent main character of the earlier books, but more mature, sadder, more careful, more doubtful. This circumscription is intensified by her split from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to go off in quest of that youthful part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an trait which he represents as her "creativity"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a adventurous journey across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in action, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of strict, procedural evil – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's family member, who blames her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the office of president of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his newfound authority to broaden the institution's rule. Another protagonist, who carried baby the heroine to safety along a overflowing river as an child in the first book, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is assigned to Geneva to find out more about the antagonist's aims. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and costly rose oil which appears in some way to be the source of a societal and financial crisis emanating out from the region. The extract is seen by some as a marketable commodity, by others as a scientific or mystical wonder, and by yet others – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a source of malevolence; an challenge that must be obliterated. The question of its source, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is becoming urgent.
Like the first series, Lyra's deeds, and her destiny, are shown to be inextricably linked with the fate of the realm
In the previous volume, these storylines ran broadly in parallel. In The Rose Field, they converge. As in the first trilogy, the protagonist's movements and her destiny are unveiled to be deeply woven with the future of the universe. Her private quest to rejoin with her companion and rediscover her vision becomes the central struggle in a larger conflict with an authoritarian regime which, as such regimes often attempt, is attempting to quell freedom of reason, innovation and culture: all the inner, rebellious ways in which people can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The novel begins with the unveiling of a set of curious cracks in the fabric of the world's air: gateways that appear to give on to alternate realities. A particular window appears to be the point of the much debated botanical substance. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its helm, classifies these openings as a problem to the church's doctrine and sets out to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from inflexible rationalism and return to instinct, yet, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that what they stand for and their value is in some way essential – grows. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the vision, or the field of roses, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a philosophical conflict between naivety and experience is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
