Things are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that appears, in this volume especially, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reassembling themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from governments, and accumulating in the offices of theocrats, the coffers of corporations, the hands of mobs. "Something is at work, stealthily, gradually", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and solid are faltering and giving way."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that propels the concluding book, which resumes where its predecessor ended. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final excursion into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating universe he first unveiled three decades past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose terrain corresponds to that of the real world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and think and behave like us, but are paired by animal souls, souls in animal form; where the skies are filled with witches and gryphons, but below, vehicles are ridden and tea is drunk, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the first volume, the origin story with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still clearly the spiky and persistent main character of the earlier books, but older, sadder, more cautious, less certain. This circumscription is intensified by her separation from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to go off in pursuit of that innocent part of her which she may have forgotten (an quality which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with marvel and danger on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the religious controlling power, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, administrative malice – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. The antagonist – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the role of head of the church's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his recently acquired power to extend the religion's dominium. Another protagonist, who carried baby the heroine to security along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in espionage: he is assigned to Geneva to learn more about Delamare's plans. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and precious essential oil which appears somehow to be the cause of a social and financial upheaval spreading out from that area. The oil is regarded by some as a tradeable product, by different parties as a scientific or mystical wonder, and by others still – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a origin of darkness; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of where it comes from, what it stands for, and if it should be eliminated or protected is escalating in importance.
Similar to the original trilogy, our protagonist's deeds, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be inextricably connected with the destiny of the universe
In its predecessor, these narratives ran broadly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to the original series, the protagonist's actions and her fate are shown to be inseparably woven with the fate of the world. Her personal quest to rejoin with her companion and regain her imagination becomes the primary conflict in a broader conflict with an oppressive system which, as these systems typically do, is striving to suppress independence of thinking, creativity and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The story opens with the unveiling of a set of unusual cracks in the fabric of the Earth's air: portals that look to open into different dimensions. A particular portal manifests to be the origin of the much debated mystical extract. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its helm, labels these portals as a challenge to the religion's doctrine and endeavors to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to move from strict reason and return to feeling, yet, her conviction that these places must be defended – that their significance and what they offer is in some way crucial – increases. "Dust, or the extract, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we call it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a philosophical conflict between purity and experience is set.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
