Things are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a world that appears, here more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from states, and pooling in the offices of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the grasp of rioters. "Something is at work, silently, very subtly", says trader a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and solid are faltering and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Just what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that animates the concluding book, which continues where its predecessor left off. This is, according to many, the author's concluding foray into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating universe he first revealed three decades past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a world whose terrain corresponds to that of our world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are paired by external spirits, beings in creature form; where the air are teeming with witches and mythical beasts, but underneath, transports are taken and tea is consumed, and older academics carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still distinctly the sharp and persistent main character of the previous installments, but older, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This limitation is heightened by her division from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to leave in quest of that youthful part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed Lyra undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and danger on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the church's governing authority, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of strict, bureaucratic wickedness – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's family member, who blames her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of leader of the Magisterium's governing body, and is determined on using his newfound influence to expand the institution's control. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued baby Lyra to refuge along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in spycraft: he is sent to Geneva to discover more about Delamare's intentions. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and costly rose oil which appears somehow to be the cause of a societal and economic disturbance emanating out from Central Asia. The extract is regarded by various factions as a commercial product, by alternate groups as a empirical or spiritual wonder, and by further factions – the zealous "highland figures" – as a wellspring of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The question of where it comes from, what it stands for, and whether it should be removed or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
As in His Dark Materials, Lyra's deeds, and her fate, are revealed to be deeply linked with the destiny of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in side by side. In the conclusion, they merge. Similar to the first trilogy, her movements and her path are shown to be deeply linked with the fate of the realm. Her private quest to rejoin with her companion and rediscover her vision becomes the key struggle in a wider battle with an oppressive government which, as these systems typically do, is attempting to quell autonomy of thought, originality and art: all the personal, defiant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The novel begins with the discovery of a series of unusual cracks in the structure of the world's sky: portals that appear to lead to different dimensions. One such opening seems to be the origin of the much debated mystical extract. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its head, labels these portals as a threat to the religion's beliefs and endeavors to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from rigid reason and revert to instinct, nevertheless, her conviction that these places must be preserved – that their meaning and what they offer is somehow vital – increases. "Dust, or the substance, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a Blakean conflict between naivety and experience is established.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
