Tings are falling apart in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a world that appears, here more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from governments, and pooling in the halls of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and solid are faltering and failing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that animates The Rose Field, which continues where the previous book concluded. This is, according to many, the author's final foray into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting universe he first revealed 30 years ago, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose terrain corresponds to that of our world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and think and behave like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, souls in animal form; where the heavens are filled with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, vehicles are ridden and tea is sipped, and mature professors carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began the series, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious main character of the earlier books, but aged, more sorrowful, more cautious, more doubtful. This restraint is amplified by her split from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to go off in quest of that childlike part of her which she may have forgotten (an trait which he represents as her "creativity"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which followed Lyra undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and risk on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in action, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the faith's controlling power, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister embodiment of austere, bureaucratic malice – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's family member, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the church's High Council, and is intent on using his recently acquired influence to broaden the institution's control. A key character, who rescued baby the heroine to security along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a sideline in intelligence work: he is dispatched to Geneva to discover more about the antagonist's plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and precious botanical extract which seems mysteriously to be the origin of a societal and financial crisis emanating out from the region. The substance is seen by various factions as a commercial product, by others as a scientific or spiritual miracle, and by others still – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a source of darkness; an affront that must be obliterated. The question of its origins, its meaning, and whether it should be eliminated or preserved is escalating in importance.
As in the first series, Lyra's actions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be inextricably linked with the future of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran largely in tandem. In this final book, they converge. As in the original series, Lyra's movements and her fate are revealed to be inextricably linked with the destiny of the world. Her individual journey to reunite with her daemon and regain her creativity becomes the primary struggle in a broader battle with an oppressive government which, as such regimes typically do, is striving to stifle independence of thinking, originality and expression: all the inner, resistant ways in which humans can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The book opens with the unveiling of a collection of curious fissures in the structure of the world's sky: gateways that appear to open into different dimensions. One such window appears to be the source of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its helm, designates these windows as a challenge to the church's beliefs and aims to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to move from strict rationalism and revert to instinct, however, her conviction that these places must be defended – that what they stand for and what they provide is in some way crucial – increases. "Dust, or the extract, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a philosophical conflict between naivety and experience is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the