Tings are unraveling in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An invisible 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 pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the grasp of crowds. "An element is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says businessman a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and strong are faltering and giving way."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that drives the concluding book, which picks up where the previous book left off. This is, reportedly, Pullman's last venture into the elaborately built, deeply captivating realm he first unveiled three decades past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose terrain maps on to that of the real world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and think and behave like us, but are paired by daemons, beings in beast form; where the air are filled with witches and legendary creatures, but underneath, buses are caught and beverages is drunk, and older scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a child in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the spiky and determined heroine of the prior volumes, but aged, sadder, more cautious, more doubtful. This restraint is amplified by her split from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to go off in quest of that innocent part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an trait which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with amazement and danger on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the faith's governing authority, and the author's deliciously chilling representation of rigid, bureaucratic malice – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's family member, who faults her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the role of leader of the authority's ruling assembly, and is set on using his fresh authority to expand the institution's control. Another protagonist, who saved infant the heroine to security along a swollen river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in intelligence work: he is sent to the city to find out more about his plans. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and valuable botanical extract which appears mysteriously to be the cause of a social and economic disturbance rippling out from Central Asia. The substance is viewed by some as a tradeable commodity, by different parties as a research-based or mystical miracle, and by yet others – the zealous "highland figures" – as a origin of malevolence; an insult that must be destroyed. The issue of its origins, its meaning, and whether it should be eliminated or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Like the original trilogy, our protagonist's decisions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be deeply linked with the destiny of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran mostly in tandem. In the conclusion, they converge. Similar to His Dark Materials, the protagonist's movements and her destiny are revealed to be inextricably woven with the future of the realm. Her private quest to reunite with her soul and regain her imagination becomes the central conflict in a larger war with an controlling government which, as such regimes typically do, is striving to suppress freedom of reason, creativity and culture: all the internal, resistant ways in which individuals can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The story begins with the unveiling of a collection of unusual openings in the fabric of the planet's sky: gateways that seem to lead to alternate realities. One such opening seems to be the source of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its head, labels these openings as a challenge to the church's doctrine and sets out to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to move from strict rationalism and back to intuition, nevertheless, her conviction that these places must be protected – that what they stand for and their value is somehow vital – increases. "Dust, or rose oil, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a Blakean tussle between innocence and experience is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
