Things are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that appears, in this volume especially, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along new and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from authorities, and pooling in the halls of theocrats, the coffers of corporations, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says trader a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and strong are faltering and failing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Just what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that animates The Rose Field, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, according to many, the author's last excursion into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose terrain maps on to that of this world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are joined by daemons, essences in creature form; where the skies are filled with witches and gryphons, but underneath, vehicles are taken and tea is drunk, and older scholars carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the prequel, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the spiky and determined main character of the previous installments, but aged, more sorrowful, more cautious, more doubtful. This restraint is intensified by her separation from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to depart in pursuit of that innocent part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an trait which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which chronicled Lyra undertake a wandering voyage across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with wonder and danger on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of austere, administrative malice – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's uncle, who faults her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the position of president of the Magisterium's High Council, and is intent on using his recently acquired influence to extend the church's rule. A key character, who saved young Lyra to safety along a overflowing river as an young boy in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in espionage: he is assigned to a key location to learn more about Delamare's aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and valuable essential oil which appears somehow to be the origin of a societal and economic disturbance rippling out from that area. The extract is viewed by some as a marketable good, by others as a scientific or mystical phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a origin of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of its origins, its significance, and whether it should be removed or preserved is escalating in importance.
As in the first series, our protagonist's deeds, and her destiny, are shown to be inextricably connected with the future of the realm
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in side by side. In the conclusion, they converge. As in the original series, Lyra's actions and her path are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the universe. Her individual journey to reunite with her daemon and regain her creativity becomes the key conflict in a wider war with an controlling regime which, as such regimes often attempt, is attempting to stifle freedom of reason, creativity and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which humans can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The book begins with the discovery of a series of strange fissures in the fabric of the planet's sky: gateways that appear to lead to different dimensions. An example of a opening seems to be the point of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The church, with the antagonist at its leadership, classifies these openings as a challenge to the religion's doctrine and aims to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to shift from strict logic and back to feeling, nevertheless, her belief that these locations must be defended – that their meaning and their value is somehow crucial – grows. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the vision, or the field of roses, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a philosophical tussle between innocence and maturity is established.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
