Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that appears, here more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or restructuring themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from authorities, and accumulating in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the control of rioters. "Something is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and durable are deteriorating and failing."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that drives The Rose Field, which picks up where the previous book concluded. This is, reportedly, the author's last foray into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting world he first unveiled in the distant past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose terrain corresponds to that of the real world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and think and behave like us, but are accompanied by daemons, souls in creature form; where the air are teeming with sorceresses and gryphons, but below, buses are taken and tea is sipped, and older professors carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the prequel, the origin story with which the author began the series, is now a adult: still clearly the sharp and tenacious main character of the prior volumes, but aged, sadder, more cautious, less certain. This circumscription is heightened by her division from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to depart in search of that youthful part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he represents as her "creativity"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a wandering voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with marvel and peril on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of austere, administrative wickedness – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's relative, who faults her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the office of head of the authority's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his newfound authority to broaden the religion's control. Malcolm Polstead, who saved baby the heroine to safety along a swollen river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an academic with a additional duty in espionage: he is sent to the city to learn more about Delamare's aims. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious botanical extract which manifests somehow to be the source of a social and economic upheaval rippling out from Central Asia. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a tradeable good, by others as a scientific or mystical wonder, and by further factions – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an insult that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its source, what it stands for, and whether it should be destroyed or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's decisions, and her destiny, are revealed to be deeply connected with the future of the realm
In the previous volume, these storylines ran broadly in parallel. In the conclusion, they come together. Like the first trilogy, Lyra's choices and her path are unveiled to be deeply linked with the future of the universe. Her private quest to rejoin with her daemon and recover her creativity becomes the central conflict in a larger battle with an controlling system which, as these systems always have, is attempting to suppress autonomy of thinking, creativity and culture: all the internal, defiant ways in which individuals can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The novel begins with the discovery of a collection of strange openings in the makeup of the world's atmosphere: windows that appear to open into different dimensions. A particular window seems to be the origin of the highly contested rose oil. The Magisterium, with its leader at its leadership, designates these openings as a challenge to the institution's orthodoxy and endeavors to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to shift from rigid rationalism and back to feeling, yet, her conviction that these places must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is somehow essential – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a Blakean conflict between naivety and experience is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
