Tings are falling apart in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a world that seems, now more than ever, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reassembling themselves along new and troubling lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from authorities, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the grasp of rioters. "Something is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says merchant a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the Silk Roads from his place in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and durable are weakening and giving way."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that drives The Rose Field, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's last excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting realm he first introduced 30 years ago, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose landscape maps on to that of our world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals appear and think and behave like us, but are joined by external spirits, beings in creature form; where the air are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, vehicles are ridden and drinks is consumed, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the prequel with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still clearly the spiky and determined protagonist of the prior volumes, but older, more sorrowful, more cautious, less sure. This restraint is amplified by her separation from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to depart in search of that childlike part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an trait which he represents as her "vision"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and risk on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in action, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the religious governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of rigid, procedural malice – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's uncle, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the role of president of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his newfound power to broaden the institution's dominium. A key character, who carried young the heroine to refuge along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to Geneva to find out more about the antagonist's plans. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and costly rose oil which seems somehow to be the cause of a social and financial upheaval emanating out from Central Asia. The extract is seen by various factions as a tradeable commodity, by others as a research-based or mystical wonder, and by others still – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an insult that must be eradicated. The issue of its source, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or preserved is escalating in importance.
Similar to the original trilogy, Lyra's actions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be deeply connected with the fate of the realm
In the previous volume, these storylines ran mostly in tandem. In this final book, they converge. Like the first trilogy, Lyra's choices and her fate are shown to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the universe. Her personal mission to reconnect with her soul and rediscover her creativity becomes the primary conflict in a wider battle with an oppressive regime which, as such authorities always have, is striving to quell freedom of thought, originality and expression: all the inner, defiant ways in which people can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The story begins with the unveiling of a set of curious fissures in the makeup of the Earth's sky: windows that seem to lead to other worlds. An example of a window appears to be the origin of the highly contested botanical substance. The authority, with the antagonist at its head, designates these windows as a threat to the religion's orthodoxy and aims to destroy them. As Lyra begins to turn away from inflexible logic and back to feeling, nevertheless, her belief that these places must be defended – that their meaning and what they offer is somehow vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we call it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a Blakean tussle between naivety and knowledge is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
