Tings are falling apart in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a realm that appears, in this volume especially, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or restructuring themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from authorities, and accumulating in the halls of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the hands of mobs. "Something is at work, stealthily, gradually", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and strong are faltering and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that animates the concluding book, which picks up where its predecessor concluded. This is, according to many, Pullman's final foray into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating universe he first revealed 30 years ago, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose geography maps on to that of our world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, souls in beast form; where the air are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, vehicles are taken and tea is consumed, and older scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a child in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the spiky and persistent main character of the prior volumes, but more mature, sadder, more cautious, less certain. This limitation is intensified by her separation from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to depart in search of that youthful part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an quality which he represents as her "creativity"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which followed Lyra undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and risk on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the church's controlling power, and the author's masterfully eerie representation of strict, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's family member, who blames 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 newfound influence to extend the church's dominium. Another protagonist, who rescued young the heroine to safety along a overflowing river as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a sideline in spycraft: he is assigned to a key location to discover more about Delamare's intentions. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and precious botanical extract which seems in some way to be the origin of a social and economic upheaval emanating out from Central Asia. The substance is viewed by various factions as a marketable commodity, by alternate groups as a research-based or spiritual wonder, and by further factions – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an affront that must be obliterated. The dilemma of where it comes from, what it stands for, and if it should be eliminated or protected is becoming urgent.
Like the first series, our protagonist's decisions, and her destiny, are shown to be deeply connected with the fate of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran mostly in tandem. In this final book, they come together. Like His Dark Materials, her actions and her path are unveiled to be deeply linked with the fate of the world. Her individual quest to reconnect with her daemon and rediscover her vision becomes the key conflict in a larger conflict with an controlling system which, as these systems typically do, is seeking to stifle independence of thought, innovation and expression: all the personal, defiant ways in which individuals can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The novel starts with the discovery of a series of unusual cracks in the fabric of the world's sky: gateways that seem to give on to different dimensions. A particular opening appears to be the point of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The authority, with the antagonist at its head, designates these openings as a problem to the church's orthodoxy and endeavors to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict logic and revert to intuition, yet, her conviction that these places must be defended – that their meaning and their value is mysteriously essential – grows. "Dust, or the extract, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or whatever we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a philosophical tussle between innocence and maturity is set.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
