Things are falling apart in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that seems, in this volume especially, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Establishments are failing, or restructuring themselves along new and troubling lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from states, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the control of crowds. "Some force is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and strong are faltering and failing."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that animates this final volume, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, according to many, the author's final excursion into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling realm he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose geography aligns with that of the real world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and act like us, but are paired by daemons, souls in animal form; where the skies are filled with witches and legendary creatures, but below, vehicles are caught and drinks is sipped, and middle-aged 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 La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still recognisably the sharp and determined heroine of the previous installments, but more mature, melancholic, more cautious, more doubtful. This circumscription is heightened by her split from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to leave in search of that childlike part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an trait which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which saw the protagonist undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with marvel and risk on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of austere, bureaucratic evil – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – the heroine's uncle, who blames her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the role of leader of the church's High Council, and is set on using his fresh authority to broaden the religion's control. A key character, who carried baby the heroine to security along a flooded river as an child in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a sideline in spycraft: he is assigned to Geneva to discover more about the antagonist's plans. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious rose oil which seems somehow to be the source of a societal and economic disturbance spreading out from the region. The substance is regarded by certain groups as a commercial commodity, by different parties as a research-based or esoteric wonder, and by yet others – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a source of evil; an challenge that must be obliterated. The dilemma of where it comes from, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or protected is escalating in importance.
Like His Dark Materials, our protagonist's actions, and her destiny, are revealed to be inseparably connected with the destiny of the universe
In its predecessor, these plots ran broadly in parallel. In this final book, they come together. Like the original series, Lyra's actions and her destiny are unveiled to be inextricably linked with the fate of the universe. Her private quest to rejoin with her soul and recover her creativity becomes the key conflict in a wider conflict with an controlling government which, as these systems typically do, is attempting to quell freedom of thinking, originality and culture: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The story opens with the unveiling of a series of curious fissures in the makeup of the Earth's sky: windows that look to lead to alternate realities. One such window seems to be the point of the much debated rose oil. The church, with Delamare at its head, labels these windows as a challenge to the institution's beliefs and sets out to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict logic and revert to instinct, nevertheless, her conviction that these locations must be defended – that their meaning and what they offer is mysteriously crucial – strengthens. "The substance, or the substance, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a poetic struggle between purity and maturity is set.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
