Tings are unraveling in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that manifests, now more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or restructuring themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from authorities, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of conglomerates, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says trader a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and strong are deteriorating and collapsing."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that drives The Rose Field, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final excursion into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting world he first revealed in the distant past, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose terrain corresponds to that of our world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans look and think and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, souls in animal form; where the skies are teeming with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, vehicles are ridden and beverages is drunk, and older scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a child in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the prickly and determined protagonist of the prior volumes, but more mature, sadder, more careful, more doubtful. This restraint is heightened by her separation from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to leave in quest of that youthful part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled Lyra undertake a picaresque trek across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and risk on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the faith's ruling body, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister representation of rigid, procedural evil – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – Lyra's uncle, who blames her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the office of president of the authority's governing body, and is set on using his recently acquired influence to extend the institution's control. Another protagonist, who rescued young the heroine to security along a swollen Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is dispatched to a key location to learn more about the antagonist's plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and valuable botanical extract which appears in some way to be the cause of a societal and financial crisis rippling out from Central Asia. The oil is viewed by certain groups as a tradeable commodity, by alternate groups as a scientific or spiritual miracle, and by others still – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a source of evil; an affront that must be eradicated. The question of its source, what it stands for, and if it should be eliminated or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the first series, our protagonist's deeds, and her destiny, are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran mostly in parallel. In this final book, they come together. As in the first trilogy, her movements and her fate are shown to be inseparably woven with the future of the universe. Her personal journey to rejoin with her soul and rediscover her vision becomes the key conflict in a wider conflict with an authoritarian regime which, as these systems often attempt, is attempting to stifle independence of reason, creativity and expression: all the personal, defiant ways in which humans can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The story begins with the discovery of a collection of strange fissures in the structure of the planet's atmosphere: windows that appear to lead to alternate realities. An example of a window manifests to be the source of the highly contested botanical substance. The authority, with Delamare at its head, labels these portals as a problem to the religion's beliefs and sets out to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to move from strict reason and back to instinct, yet, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that their meaning and their value is in some way crucial – grows. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a poetic tussle between naivety and knowledge is set.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
