Things are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that manifests, now more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from governments, and gathering in the offices of theocrats, the coffers of conglomerates, the grasp of mobs. "Some force is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and solid are faltering and failing."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that propels this final volume, which resumes where the previous book concluded. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding venture into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting world he first unveiled in the distant past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose landscape corresponds to that of our world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, souls in beast form; where the air are populated with witches and mythical beasts, but below, vehicles are caught and tea is sipped, and older scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which Pullman began the series, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the spiky and determined heroine of the previous installments, but aged, melancholic, more careful, less sure. This limitation is heightened by her split from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to go off in quest of that childlike part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he represents as her "creativity"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which saw Lyra undertake a wandering voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and risk on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in play, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister representation of strict, procedural evil – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's uncle, who blames her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the office of leader of the authority's High Council, and is set on using his fresh authority to broaden the religion's rule. Another protagonist, who saved baby the heroine to security along a flooded Thames as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in spycraft: he is dispatched to Geneva to learn more about his aims. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and valuable botanical extract which appears somehow to be the cause of a societal and economic crisis rippling out from the region. The oil is viewed by certain groups as a commercial product, by others as a scientific or mystical phenomenon, and by others still – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a source of darkness; an challenge that must be destroyed. The question of its origins, what it stands for, and if it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.
Like His Dark Materials, our protagonist's deeds, and her fate, are shown to be inseparably linked with the fate of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran mostly in side by side. In this final book, they converge. Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions and her destiny are unveiled to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the universe. Her personal journey to reunite with her daemon and rediscover her creativity becomes the primary conflict in a broader war with an controlling government which, as such authorities typically do, is attempting to quell autonomy of thinking, creativity and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which humans can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The book starts with the finding of a series of unusual openings in the structure of the Earth's atmosphere: windows that seem to open into other worlds. An example of a portal manifests to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The Magisterium, with its leader at its helm, classifies these portals as a challenge to the institution's doctrine and sets out to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from rigid reason and revert to intuition, yet, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that what they stand for and what they offer is somehow essential – increases. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a philosophical tussle between naivety and maturity is set.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
