Things are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a realm that appears, here more than ever, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Establishments are weakening, 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". Power is draining from governments, and accumulating in the offices of theocrats, the vaults of conglomerates, the control of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an city cafe. "Things we thought were stable and durable are deteriorating and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels The Rose Field, which continues where its predecessor concluded. This is, according to many, Pullman's last excursion into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting realm he first introduced 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose terrain maps on to that of this world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and think and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, souls in beast form; where the air are populated with witches and mythical beasts, but underneath, vehicles are taken and beverages is drunk, and mature professors carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a child in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the sharp and determined protagonist of the previous installments, but older, sadder, more careful, less certain. This circumscription is heightened by her separation from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to leave in quest of that innocent part of her which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he represents as her "creativity"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a wandering trek across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and risk on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in motion, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the church's governing authority, and the author's brilliantly sinister representation of strict, bureaucratic malice – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – the heroine's uncle, who blames her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of leader of the authority's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his fresh influence to extend the church's control. Another protagonist, who saved young the heroine to refuge along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to a key location to discover more about the antagonist's intentions. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and valuable rose oil which seems in some way to be the origin of a social and financial crisis emanating out from the region. The oil is viewed by certain groups as a marketable commodity, by others as a research-based or esoteric wonder, and by yet others – the zealous "highland figures" – as a origin of darkness; an affront that must be destroyed. The issue of its origins, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in the first series, Lyra's deeds, and her future, are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the future of the realm
In its predecessor, these storylines ran mostly in parallel. In this final book, they come together. Similar to the original series, her movements and her destiny are unveiled to be inextricably woven with the future of the realm. Her personal quest to rejoin with her soul and regain her creativity becomes the key conflict in a wider war with an authoritarian government which, as these systems typically do, is striving to suppress independence of thought, innovation and culture: all the inner, defiant ways in which people can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The book starts with the discovery of a collection of strange cracks in the structure of the planet's atmosphere: gateways that appear to lead to alternate realities. An example of a window seems to be the point of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The church, with Delamare at its head, classifies these openings as a challenge to the religion's beliefs and aims to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to move from strict reason and back to intuition, nevertheless, her belief that these places must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is in some way crucial – grows. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a philosophical struggle between naivety and knowledge is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
