Things are unraveling in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a world that manifests, now more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from states, and accumulating in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the control of mobs. "Some force is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and strong are faltering and giving way."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Just what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that animates The Rose Field, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, according to many, the author's last foray into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced three decades past, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a world whose terrain aligns with that of our world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the people appear and think and behave like us, but are paired by external spirits, souls in beast form; where the air are filled with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but below, transports are ridden and beverages is consumed, and middle-aged scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the prequel with which the author began the series, is now a young woman: still distinctly the sharp and persistent protagonist of the previous installments, but older, melancholic, more cautious, less sure. This limitation is intensified by her split from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to go off in quest of that youthful part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he represents as her "creativity"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which saw the protagonist undertake a wandering voyage across the continent and into the Caucasus, facing with marvel and risk on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in action, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister representation of strict, bureaucratic evil – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's family member, who faults her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the position of leader of the authority's ruling assembly, and is set on using his recently acquired authority to extend the religion's rule. A key character, who carried baby Lyra to refuge along a swollen Thames 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 find out more about his aims. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious botanical extract which seems somehow to be the origin of a social and financial upheaval emanating out from the region. The oil is viewed by certain groups as a tradeable product, by others as a research-based or mystical phenomenon, and by others still – the extremist "highland figures" – as a origin of malevolence; an challenge that must be obliterated. The issue of its source, what it stands for, and if it should be removed or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the first series, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be deeply connected with the destiny of the universe
In its predecessor, these storylines ran largely in side by side. In this final book, they converge. Similar to the original series, Lyra's actions and her path are revealed to be inextricably linked with the fate of the world. Her private quest to reunite with her soul and rediscover her imagination becomes the key struggle in a wider war with an controlling regime which, as such authorities typically do, is seeking to suppress freedom of reason, originality and culture: all the internal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The book starts with the finding of a series of strange openings in the makeup of the Earth's atmosphere: windows that appear to give on to different dimensions. A particular opening manifests to be the source of the much debated botanical substance. The authority, with the antagonist at its helm, labels these openings as a challenge to the institution's beliefs and aims to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to shift from rigid reason and return to feeling, yet, her certainty that these places must be defended – that their meaning and what they offer is mysteriously essential – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a philosophical conflict between innocence and knowledge is established.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
