Things are unraveling in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that appears, here more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along novel and troubling lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from authorities, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the hands of crowds. "Some force is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says businessman a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and solid are weakening and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that propels The Rose Field, which continues where its predecessor ended. This is, reportedly, Pullman's concluding excursion into the elaborately built, deeply captivating world he first introduced 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose landscape aligns with that of our world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and reason and behave like us, but are paired by daemons, beings in beast form; where the skies are teeming with sorceresses and gryphons, but below, buses are ridden and beverages is sipped, and older scholars carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which the author began the series, is now a adult: still recognisably the prickly and tenacious heroine of the previous installments, but older, melancholic, warier, less certain. This circumscription is heightened by her split from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to leave in search of that youthful part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with marvel and risk on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in action, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of strict, administrative wickedness – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of head of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his newfound authority to broaden the church's dominium. Another protagonist, who saved infant Lyra to safety along a overflowing river as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a sideline in intelligence work: he is assigned to a key location to discover more about Delamare's intentions. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and precious botanical extract which manifests somehow to be the origin of a societal and financial disturbance spreading out from that area. The oil is seen by certain groups as a commercial good, by different parties as a research-based or esoteric miracle, and by yet others – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an insult that must be eradicated. The issue of its origins, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
As in His Dark Materials, Lyra's deeds, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be inseparably entwined with the future of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in tandem. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, the protagonist's movements and her destiny are unveiled to be deeply woven with the destiny of the realm. Her individual journey to rejoin with her companion and recover her vision becomes the key battleground in a broader conflict with an oppressive government which, as these systems typically do, is seeking to quell freedom of thought, originality and expression: all the personal, defiant ways in which humans can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The story opens with the finding of a series of curious cracks in the structure of the planet's air: portals that look to open into different dimensions. A particular portal appears to be the source of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The authority, with the antagonist at its helm, designates these portals as a challenge to the institution's beliefs and sets out to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from strict reason and back to feeling, nevertheless, her certainty that these sites must be protected – that their significance and their value is somehow essential – strengthens. "The substance, or the extract, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a poetic tussle between naivety and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
