Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's masterful trilogies set in a world that seems, now more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from states, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and strong are faltering and failing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that animates the concluding book, which continues where its predecessor concluded. This is, by all accounts, the author's last excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting world he first revealed in the distant past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose terrain aligns with that of the real world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and behave like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, essences in animal form; where the air are populated with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, transports are ridden and drinks is drunk, and middle-aged academics carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a child in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still recognisably the sharp and persistent protagonist of the prior volumes, but older, melancholic, warier, less certain. This limitation is heightened by her division from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to depart in search of that childlike part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an trait which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which saw the protagonist undertake a wandering trek across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling embodiment of rigid, procedural malice – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. The antagonist – the heroine's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the office of leader of the authority's High Council, and is determined on using his fresh power to extend the church's control. A key character, who carried infant Lyra to security along a flooded Thames as an child in the prequel, is now an academic with a secondary role in spycraft: he is assigned to Geneva to find out more about his aims. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and costly essential oil which appears in some way to be the origin of a social and financial crisis spreading out from that area. The oil is seen by certain groups as a tradeable good, by alternate groups as a scientific or esoteric miracle, and by others still – the extremist "highland figures" – as a source of darkness; an insult that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its source, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
Like the first series, our protagonist's actions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be inseparably connected with the future of the realm
In its predecessor, these narratives ran broadly in side by side. In the conclusion, they merge. As in the original series, her actions and her fate are shown to be inextricably linked with the destiny of the realm. Her personal mission to rejoin with her daemon and regain her vision becomes the central struggle in a larger war with an oppressive government which, as these systems typically do, is attempting to quell independence of thought, innovation and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which humans can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The book starts with the finding of a set of curious fissures in the fabric of the planet's sky: portals that look to open into other worlds. An example of a portal appears to be the origin of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The Magisterium, with its leader at its helm, labels these portals as a challenge to the religion's doctrine and sets out to destroy them. As the heroine begins to turn away from rigid logic and back to intuition, however, her certainty that these sites must be preserved – that their meaning and what they offer is mysteriously vital – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the vision, or the field of roses, or whatever we name it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a philosophical conflict between purity and experience is set.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
