Tings are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that manifests, here more than ever, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from governments, and gathering in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and strong are deteriorating and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Precisely what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that propels this final volume, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, reportedly, the author's concluding foray into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling world he first introduced in the distant past, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a world whose geography corresponds to that of this world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, beings in beast form; where the air are populated with sorceresses and gryphons, but below, buses are ridden and beverages is consumed, and mature professors carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious main character of the previous installments, but more mature, more sorrowful, warier, more doubtful. This circumscription is intensified by her split from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to depart in quest of that innocent part of her which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which followed Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with wonder and risk on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the religious controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of strict, bureaucratic evil – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the role of head of the church's High Council, and is set on using his fresh influence to extend the church's dominium. A key character, who carried infant Lyra to security along a overflowing river as an young boy in the first book, is now an university scholar with a sideline in spycraft: he is sent to the city to learn more about his intentions. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and valuable botanical extract which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a societal and economic crisis emanating out from Central Asia. The oil is viewed by certain groups as a marketable commodity, by alternate groups as a empirical or spiritual wonder, and by yet others – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of malevolence; an affront that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its source, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to His Dark Materials, our protagonist's deeds, and her fate, are revealed to be inextricably connected with the fate of the realm
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in parallel. In the conclusion, they come together. As in the original series, Lyra's actions and her destiny are unveiled to be deeply linked with the destiny of the realm. Her individual journey to rejoin with her companion and rediscover her imagination becomes the key struggle in a broader conflict with an authoritarian regime which, as such authorities always have, is attempting to stifle freedom of reason, creativity and culture: all the internal, resistant ways in which people can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The story starts with the discovery of a collection of curious cracks in the fabric of the planet's sky: portals that look to lead to different dimensions. An example of a opening seems to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The church, with the antagonist at its helm, classifies these windows as a threat to the religion's orthodoxy and endeavors to destroy them. As the heroine begins to move from strict rationalism and revert to intuition, however, her certainty that these locations must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is in some way crucial – grows. "The substance, or the extract, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or no matter what we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a philosophical tussle between purity and experience is established.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
