Tings are unraveling in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a universe that manifests, here more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reassembling themselves along new and troubling lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from states, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the control of mobs. "Some force is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his seat in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and strong are faltering and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Precisely what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that drives The Rose Field, which resumes where its predecessor ended. This is, according to many, the author's concluding excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting universe he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose terrain aligns with that of this world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals look and think and act like us, but are paired by external spirits, essences in animal form; where the skies are populated with enchantresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, vehicles are caught and tea is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a child in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the spiky and persistent heroine of the earlier books, but aged, melancholic, warier, less sure. This circumscription is heightened by her separation from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to depart in quest of that childlike part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which followed Lyra undertake a wandering voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and risk on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in motion, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the church's controlling power, and the author's deliciously chilling incarnation of austere, procedural wickedness – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's relative, who faults her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of president of the church's High Council, and is set on using his newfound influence to expand the religion's dominium. A key character, who rescued infant the heroine to refuge along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in spycraft: he is assigned to the city to learn more about his plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and costly rose oil which seems somehow to be the source of a societal and economic disturbance spreading out from the region. The substance is seen by some as a marketable good, by others as a research-based or esoteric miracle, and by others still – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of evil; an insult that must be destroyed. The issue of where it comes from, its meaning, and whether it should be eliminated or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's deeds, and her future, are demonstrated to be inseparably linked with the fate of the world
In its predecessor, these plots ran mostly in tandem. In this final book, they merge. Similar to the first trilogy, Lyra's actions and her destiny are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the world. Her private quest to reconnect with her companion and rediscover her creativity becomes the primary battleground in a larger battle with an controlling government which, as these systems often attempt, is striving to stifle autonomy of reason, creativity and art: all the internal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The novel starts with the unveiling of a collection of curious cracks in the structure of the Earth's sky: portals that look to give on to other worlds. An example of a window appears to be the source of the much debated mystical extract. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its leadership, designates these openings as a challenge to the church's beliefs and aims to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to move from inflexible logic and return to feeling, nevertheless, her certainty that these places must be preserved – that what they stand for and what they provide is mysteriously essential – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or whatever we label it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a philosophical conflict between innocence and experience is established.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
