Tings are falling apart in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that manifests, in this volume especially, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from governments, and accumulating in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the hands of mobs. "Some force is at work, very quietly, gradually", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and strong are faltering and failing."
Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that propels the concluding book, which continues where its predecessor left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding foray into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced three decades past, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose geography corresponds to that of our world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, essences in creature form; where the skies are teeming with witches and mythical beasts, but below, buses are taken and beverages is sipped, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still recognisably the sharp and determined heroine of the earlier books, but more mature, sadder, warier, more doubtful. This restraint is intensified by her separation from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to depart in search of that childlike part of her which she appears to have shed (an trait which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw the protagonist undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with wonder and peril on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of austere, procedural evil – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's family member, who faults her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of head of the authority's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his fresh influence to expand the institution's dominium. Another protagonist, who carried baby Lyra to safety along a overflowing Thames as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in espionage: he is assigned to Geneva to learn more about Delamare's intentions. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and precious rose oil which appears mysteriously to be the source of a social and financial crisis spreading out from that area. The oil is viewed by some as a commercial commodity, by different parties as a empirical or mystical wonder, and by others still – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a source of evil; an insult that must be eradicated. The issue of where it comes from, its meaning, and whether it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.
Similar to the original trilogy, the heroine's decisions, and her future, are demonstrated to be inextricably connected with the future of the world
In the previous volume, these narratives ran mostly in side by side. In The Rose Field, they converge. Like His Dark Materials, the protagonist's choices and her fate are unveiled to be deeply woven with the destiny of the realm. Her personal journey to reconnect with her soul and rediscover her creativity becomes the central struggle in a wider conflict with an oppressive system which, as such regimes typically do, is attempting to quell autonomy of reason, originality and expression: all the internal, rebellious ways in which people can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The book opens with the discovery of a set of strange openings in the structure of the world's sky: gateways that appear to give on to different dimensions. One such portal appears to be the source of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The authority, with the antagonist at its leadership, labels these openings as a threat to the religion's doctrine and endeavors to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict logic and back to feeling, however, her conviction that these sites must be protected – that their significance and what they provide is mysteriously essential – grows. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a philosophical tussle between naivety and experience is established.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
