Things are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, now more than ever, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from states, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, stealthily, gradually", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and durable are faltering and failing."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that drives this final volume, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, according to many, the author's final venture into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting world he first revealed 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose terrain corresponds 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 joined by daemons, beings in animal form; where the heavens are teeming with witches and mythical beasts, but below, vehicles are ridden and drinks is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the first volume, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still clearly the prickly and persistent heroine of the previous installments, but older, melancholic, more careful, more doubtful. This circumscription is intensified by her separation from her daemon, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to depart in pursuit of that innocent part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an trait which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with amazement and danger on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the faith's ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of strict, procedural wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. The antagonist – the heroine's relative, who holds responsible her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of leader of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his newfound power to expand the religion's control. A key character, who rescued young Lyra to safety along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is assigned to Geneva to discover more about Delamare's aims. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and precious botanical extract which manifests in some way to be the source of a societal and economic crisis emanating out from the region. The extract is seen by certain groups as a commercial commodity, by different parties as a research-based or mystical miracle, and by further factions – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a wellspring of darkness; an insult that must be destroyed. The question of its origins, what it stands for, and if it should be eliminated or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
As in the original trilogy, the heroine's actions, and her future, are demonstrated to be inseparably connected with the future of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran largely in parallel. In The Rose Field, they come together. As in the original series, her movements and her path are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the universe. Her personal quest to reconnect with her soul and regain her vision becomes the key struggle in a larger conflict with an authoritarian system which, as such regimes always have, is seeking to quell freedom of thinking, innovation and art: all the personal, resistant ways in which humans can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The story begins with the unveiling of a set of unusual openings in the structure of the world's sky: portals that seem to lead to different dimensions. A particular window seems to be the point of the highly contested rose oil. The church, with Delamare at its leadership, labels these openings as a threat to the institution's beliefs and endeavors to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to shift from inflexible rationalism and return to intuition, yet, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that their significance and what they offer is mysteriously vital – increases. "The substance, or rose oil, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a poetic tussle between purity and knowledge is established.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
