Tings are falling apart in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's masterful trilogies set in a universe that manifests, here more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reassembling themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from states, and pooling in the offices of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the grasp of crowds. "An element is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes 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
Exactly what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that drives the concluding book, which continues where the previous book left off. This is, reportedly, Pullman's final venture into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography aligns with that of our world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and reason and act like us, but are joined by daemons, souls in creature form; where the skies are filled with witches and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are taken and tea is drunk, and older professors carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the spiky and determined main character of the previous installments, but aged, sadder, more careful, less certain. This restraint is heightened by her separation from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to leave in pursuit of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an trait which he represents as her "creativity"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a wandering trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with wonder and peril on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in action, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the faith's controlling power, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of strict, bureaucratic wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's relative, who holds responsible her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of president of the church's governing body, and is determined on using his recently acquired authority to expand the religion's dominium. A key character, who carried baby the heroine to refuge along a flooded river as an child in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is sent to Geneva to discover more about the antagonist's plans. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and valuable rose oil which manifests somehow to be the cause of a social and economic upheaval spreading out from the region. The oil is seen by certain groups as a tradeable product, by alternate groups as a empirical or esoteric wonder, and by others still – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of evil; an insult that must be eradicated. The issue of its source, its significance, and whether it should be eliminated or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
Similar to the original trilogy, the heroine's actions, and her future, are revealed to be deeply linked with the fate of the universe
In its predecessor, these plots ran mostly in parallel. In The Rose Field, they converge. Like His Dark Materials, the protagonist's actions and her fate are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the future of the universe. Her individual journey to rejoin with her daemon and rediscover her vision becomes the primary struggle in a larger war with an controlling government which, as these systems always have, is seeking to suppress freedom of thought, innovation and expression: all the internal, defiant ways in which people can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The book opens with the unveiling of a series of strange fissures in the structure of the world's sky: windows that appear to lead to other worlds. An example of a opening appears to be the origin of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its helm, labels these portals as a problem to the institution's doctrine and sets out to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from rigid reason and back to feeling, however, her certainty that these locations must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is somehow vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a Blakean conflict between purity and knowledge is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
