Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a realm that manifests, now more than ever, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reassembling themselves along new and troubling lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from states, and gathering in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of corporations, the control of mobs. "Some force is at work, silently, gradually", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and solid are deteriorating and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Just what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that propels this final volume, which resumes where its predecessor ended. This is, by all accounts, the author's last venture into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling realm he first revealed three decades past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose terrain corresponds to that of this world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, beings in beast form; where the skies are populated with witches and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are taken and tea is consumed, and middle-aged scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the sharp and tenacious protagonist of the earlier books, but aged, more sorrowful, more cautious, more doubtful. This limitation is heightened by her split from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to go off in search of that childlike part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an trait which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled Lyra undertake a adventurous voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with wonder and peril on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in action, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of rigid, procedural malice – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's family member, who blames her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the position of leader of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is set on using his recently acquired influence to expand the religion's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who carried infant Lyra to security along a swollen river as an child in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a sideline in intelligence work: he is assigned to the city to discover more about his plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and valuable rose oil which appears mysteriously to be the source of a social and economic upheaval rippling out from that area. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a tradeable commodity, by others as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by further factions – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of evil; an affront that must be destroyed. The question of its origins, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Like the first series, Lyra's actions, and her future, are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the universe
In its predecessor, these plots ran broadly in parallel. In the conclusion, they merge. Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's choices and her path are shown to be deeply entwined with the future of the universe. Her individual journey to rejoin with her soul and regain her imagination becomes the key struggle in a broader battle with an controlling government which, as such authorities often attempt, is seeking to quell freedom of reason, originality and art: all the inner, defiant ways in which humans can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The novel opens with the unveiling of a set of curious openings in the fabric of the planet's sky: gateways that look to lead to other worlds. A particular window seems to be the source of the highly contested mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its helm, classifies these windows as a problem to the church's beliefs and endeavors to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to move from rigid reason and back to instinct, however, her certainty that these places must be preserved – that what they stand for and what they provide is somehow vital – increases. "The substance, or rose oil, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a poetic conflict between purity and experience is established.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
