Tings are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a world that appears, here more than ever, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or restructuring themselves along new and troubling lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from states, and gathering in the offices of theocrats, the coffers of conglomerates, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, stealthily, gradually", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his place in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and strong are faltering and failing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Just what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where its predecessor left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding foray into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling realm he first introduced 30 years ago, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose terrain maps on to that of the real world, but whose history veers and changes with ours; where the humans look and reason and behave like us, but are paired by animal souls, essences in animal form; where the air are teeming with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, transports are taken and beverages is drunk, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the spiky and persistent protagonist of the earlier books, but more mature, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This restraint is amplified by her separation from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to depart in pursuit of that innocent part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an trait which he represents as her "creativity"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with amazement and peril on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the faith's ruling body, and the author's masterfully eerie representation of austere, administrative malice – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's uncle, who faults her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the role of leader of the Magisterium's governing body, and is determined on using his recently acquired authority to extend the institution's control. A key character, who rescued baby the heroine to security along a flooded river as an child in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a sideline in spycraft: he is sent to the city to learn more about Delamare's aims. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and valuable botanical extract which manifests mysteriously to be the cause of a social and financial upheaval rippling out from the region. The extract is viewed by some as a marketable commodity, by different parties as a empirical or esoteric phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an insult that must be destroyed. The dilemma of where it comes from, its significance, and whether it should be eliminated or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Like His Dark Materials, the heroine's deeds, and her future, are shown to be inseparably connected with the destiny of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran mostly in parallel. In the conclusion, they come together. As in His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions and her destiny are revealed to be deeply linked with the destiny of the realm. Her personal journey to reconnect with her soul and recover her creativity becomes the central struggle in a larger conflict with an controlling system which, as these systems typically do, is attempting to quell autonomy of thought, creativity and expression: all the inner, resistant ways in which humans can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The novel opens with the finding of a collection of unusual cracks in the makeup of the world's sky: windows that look to lead to different dimensions. A particular window manifests to be the point of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its head, labels these openings as a challenge to the institution's beliefs and sets out to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from rigid rationalism and back to feeling, nevertheless, her belief that these places must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is mysteriously crucial – grows. "Dust, 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 purity and experience is set.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
