Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, now more than ever, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along novel and troubling lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from governments, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of corporations, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Things we thought were stable and solid are weakening and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Just what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that animates this final volume, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, reportedly, the author's final venture into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting realm he first revealed three decades past, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose terrain maps on to that of our world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans look and reason and act like us, but are paired by external spirits, beings in beast form; where the heavens are filled with enchantresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, vehicles are caught and tea is sipped, and older academics carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a child in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a young woman: still recognisably the spiky and persistent protagonist of the earlier books, but more mature, melancholic, warier, more doubtful. This circumscription is intensified by her separation from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to go off in pursuit of that innocent part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an quality which he represents as her "creativity"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and risk on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious governing authority, and the author's masterfully eerie representation of austere, bureaucratic malice – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – the heroine's relative, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the office of head of the authority's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his newfound power to extend the church's rule. A key character, who rescued young the heroine to security along a swollen river as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a sideline in spycraft: he is assigned to the city to learn more about Delamare's plans. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and costly essential oil which manifests somehow to be the cause of a social and economic crisis rippling out from the region. The oil is seen by certain groups as a commercial commodity, by alternate groups as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by yet others – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a source of malevolence; an challenge that must be eradicated. The question of where it comes from, its meaning, and whether it should be removed or protected is escalating in importance.
Similar to the original trilogy, the heroine's actions, and her future, are revealed to be deeply linked with the future of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran broadly in side by side. In this final book, they converge. As in the first trilogy, Lyra's choices and her path are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the realm. Her personal journey to reconnect with her soul and regain her imagination becomes the central battleground in a wider war with an authoritarian system which, as such regimes typically do, is striving to stifle freedom of reason, creativity and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which humans can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The book begins with the unveiling of a set of unusual openings in the fabric of the planet's sky: windows that seem to lead to different dimensions. An example of a portal seems to be the origin of the highly contested rose oil. The authority, with its leader at its helm, classifies these windows as a problem to the institution's doctrine and sets out to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to move from inflexible reason and return to instinct, however, her conviction that these places must be defended – that their meaning and what they provide is somehow vital – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a poetic conflict between naivety and knowledge is set.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
