Tings are falling apart in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's masterful trilogies set in a universe that manifests, here more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along new and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from governments, and pooling in the offices of religious leaders, the coffers of conglomerates, the control of mobs. "Some force is at work, silently, gradually", says businessman a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and solid are faltering and failing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that drives The Rose Field, which continues where its predecessor concluded. This is, reportedly, the author's last excursion into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling world he first introduced three decades past, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography aligns with that of this world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and think and behave like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, beings in beast form; where the heavens are teeming with enchantresses and gryphons, but underneath, vehicles are caught and beverages is drunk, and middle-aged professors carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still clearly the prickly and tenacious protagonist of the prior volumes, but more mature, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This circumscription is heightened by her division from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to leave in search of that youthful part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a wandering journey across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with marvel and peril on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in play, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the church's governing authority, and the author's deliciously chilling representation of rigid, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – our protagonist's relative, who blames her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the role of leader of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his fresh power to expand the institution's control. Malcolm Polstead, who saved baby Lyra to security along a swollen Thames as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to the city to discover more about Delamare's aims. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and valuable rose oil which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a social and financial disturbance emanating out from Central Asia. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a commercial good, by others as a empirical or esoteric phenomenon, and by yet others – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a origin of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of its origins, its meaning, and whether it should be destroyed or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
Like the first series, the heroine's deeds, and her destiny, are shown to be inseparably linked with the fate of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran mostly in tandem. In this final book, they merge. As in the original series, her actions and her path are shown to be inseparably woven with the fate of the universe. Her private quest to rejoin with her companion and rediscover her imagination becomes the central battleground in a wider battle with an authoritarian regime which, as these systems always have, is striving to stifle independence of reason, creativity and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which people can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The novel starts with the finding of a series of unusual cracks in the makeup of the world's sky: portals that seem to open into other worlds. An example of a window seems to be the source of the highly contested botanical substance. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its head, designates these openings as a threat to the institution's beliefs and aims to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict logic and back to instinct, yet, her conviction that these locations must be preserved – that their meaning and their value is mysteriously essential – grows. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or no matter what we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a Blakean conflict between innocence and knowledge is set.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
