Tings are collapsing in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that appears, in this volume especially, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from states, and gathering in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the hands of mobs. "Some force is at work, silently, gradually", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and solid are weakening and giving way."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that drives the concluding book, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's last venture into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating world he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose terrain aligns with that of our world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and reason and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, beings in creature form; where the heavens are filled with witches and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are caught and tea is consumed, and older scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which the author began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still clearly the spiky and persistent protagonist of the earlier books, but more mature, sadder, warier, less certain. This circumscription is amplified by her split from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to leave in quest of that youthful part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed the protagonist undertake a adventurous journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with wonder and danger on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the religious governing authority, and the author's masterfully eerie embodiment of rigid, procedural wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's family member, who holds responsible her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the office of leader of the Magisterium's High Council, and is set on using his fresh influence to broaden the church's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued baby the heroine to refuge along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an academic with a sideline in spycraft: he is sent to the city to discover more about Delamare's intentions. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and valuable botanical extract which appears somehow to be the origin of a societal and economic disturbance rippling out from Central Asia. The oil is regarded by some as a marketable commodity, by different parties as a empirical or spiritual miracle, and by others still – the extremist "highland figures" – as a origin of evil; an insult that must be eradicated. The question of its origins, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Similar to the first series, our protagonist's deeds, and her future, are shown to be deeply linked with the destiny of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran broadly in parallel. In this final book, they come together. As in His Dark Materials, the protagonist's choices and her path are shown to be deeply linked with the destiny of the realm. Her individual quest to reconnect with her companion and rediscover her creativity becomes the primary conflict in a broader war with an controlling regime which, as such authorities always have, is seeking to stifle autonomy of thinking, innovation and expression: all the internal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The book starts with the unveiling of a collection of strange fissures in the structure of the planet's atmosphere: portals that seem to open into alternate realities. An example of a opening manifests to be the source of the highly contested mystical extract. The authority, with the antagonist at its head, labels these portals as a threat to the religion's doctrine and sets out to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to move from strict reason and return to feeling, yet, her certainty that these sites must be defended – that their meaning and what they offer is somehow crucial – grows. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the vision, or the field of roses, or whatever we name it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a philosophical tussle between purity and knowledge is prepared.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
