Tings are falling apart in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that manifests, in this volume especially, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or restructuring themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is draining from governments, and gathering in the halls of religious leaders, the vaults of corporations, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, silently, gradually", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were firm and solid are weakening and failing."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that animates The Rose Field, which resumes where the previous book concluded. This is, according to many, Pullman's last foray into the carefully crafted, infinitely beguiling world he first introduced 30 years ago, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose landscape aligns with that of this world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and think and behave like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, souls in animal form; where the air are teeming with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are ridden and drinks is sipped, and middle-aged professors carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the prequel with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the sharp and tenacious heroine of the previous installments, but aged, melancholic, warier, less certain. This circumscription is intensified by her separation from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to go off in search of that childlike part of her which she may have forgotten (an trait which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and risk on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in motion, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the faith's controlling power, and the author's deliciously chilling incarnation of strict, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. The antagonist – our protagonist's relative, who blames her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the role of leader of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is set on using his fresh power to extend the church's control. A key character, who rescued baby Lyra to safety along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an academic with a sideline in intelligence work: he is assigned to a key location to learn more about Delamare's intentions. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and valuable botanical extract which manifests mysteriously to be the source of a societal and financial crisis emanating out from the region. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a marketable good, by others as a scientific or esoteric miracle, and by further factions – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an insult that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its source, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or protected is escalating in importance.
Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are revealed to be inseparably linked with the future of the realm
In its predecessor, these storylines ran mostly in side by side. In the conclusion, they merge. Similar to the original series, Lyra's choices and her path are shown to be inseparably linked with the fate of the universe. Her personal mission to reconnect with her soul and recover her imagination becomes the primary battleground in a wider war with an oppressive government which, as such authorities typically do, is seeking to stifle freedom of thought, innovation and culture: all the internal, defiant ways in which individuals can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The novel starts with the finding of a collection of strange openings in the structure of the planet's air: gateways that look to give on to different dimensions. A particular window manifests to be the source of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The authority, with its leader at its leadership, classifies these portals as a threat to the institution's beliefs and aims to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from inflexible rationalism and return to feeling, nevertheless, her belief that these places must be preserved – that their significance and what they offer is somehow crucial – strengthens. "The substance, or rose oil, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we call it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a philosophical conflict between purity and experience is set.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
