Tings are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that appears, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or reassembling themselves along new and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is draining from governments, and pooling in the halls of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the grasp of mobs. "Something is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his place in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and strong are deteriorating and failing."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that propels The Rose Field, which continues where the previous book concluded. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's concluding excursion into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating realm he first introduced three decades past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose terrain maps on to that of our world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and think and act like us, but are paired by daemons, essences in beast form; where the skies are teeming with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, vehicles are ridden and drinks is drunk, and middle-aged scholars carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still clearly the sharp and tenacious protagonist of the previous installments, but older, melancholic, warier, less sure. This restraint is amplified by her division from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to go off in search of that youthful part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he represents as her "creativity"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a wandering trek across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with amazement and peril on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the faith's ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister representation of strict, bureaucratic evil – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the church's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his fresh authority to extend the church's dominium. Another protagonist, who carried baby Lyra to safety along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is sent to a key location to find out more about the antagonist's plans. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and costly rose oil which manifests mysteriously to be the origin of a social and economic disturbance spreading out from the region. The extract is seen by certain groups as a marketable product, by alternate groups as a research-based or spiritual wonder, and by others still – the zealous "highland figures" – as a origin of darkness; an challenge that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its origins, its meaning, and whether it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.
Similar to the first series, the heroine's decisions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be deeply entwined with the future of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran broadly in tandem. In this final book, they come together. Like His Dark Materials, her choices and her path are unveiled to be inextricably linked with the fate of the realm. Her personal mission to reunite with her companion and recover her imagination becomes the central battleground in a wider war with an authoritarian system which, as these systems often attempt, is seeking to quell independence of thought, innovation and culture: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The novel begins with the unveiling of a series of strange cracks in the fabric of the Earth's sky: gateways that look to open into alternate realities. One such portal manifests to be the source of the much debated mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its head, classifies these openings as a challenge to the religion's doctrine and sets out to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to shift from rigid reason and back to feeling, however, her belief that these places must be defended – that their significance and what they provide is somehow essential – strengthens. "The substance, or the extract, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a Blakean tussle between innocence and experience is established.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
