Things are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a world that manifests, here more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along new and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from authorities, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of conglomerates, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and strong are faltering and failing."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Exactly what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that drives The Rose Field, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, reportedly, Pullman's concluding venture into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting realm he first introduced three decades past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose geography aligns with that of the real world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans look and reason and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, essences in animal form; where the skies are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, vehicles are caught and drinks is sipped, and middle-aged professors carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a child in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the first volume, the origin story with which the author began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the prickly and persistent main character of the prior volumes, but more mature, more sorrowful, more careful, less certain. This circumscription is heightened by her separation from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to leave in pursuit of that innocent part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an trait which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with marvel and peril on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in action, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the church's governing authority, and the author's deliciously chilling embodiment of strict, procedural malice – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's uncle, who faults her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the authority's High Council, and is determined on using his fresh power to expand the church's control. Another protagonist, who carried young the heroine to security along a swollen river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an academic with a sideline in espionage: he is assigned to Geneva to find out more about his intentions. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious rose oil which seems in some way to be the source of a societal and economic disturbance spreading out from that area. The extract is viewed by certain groups as a commercial commodity, by others as a empirical or esoteric wonder, and by yet others – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a origin of evil; an affront that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its source, its meaning, and whether it should be destroyed or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the original trilogy, the heroine's decisions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the realm
In its predecessor, these plots ran largely in side by side. In this final book, they merge. As in the original series, her movements and her destiny are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the world. Her private quest to reunite with her soul and regain her creativity becomes the central conflict in a wider conflict with an authoritarian government which, as these systems typically do, is striving to stifle autonomy of thought, originality and culture: all the internal, resistant ways in which people can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The story opens with the finding of a series of strange fissures in the makeup of the planet's sky: portals that seem to give on to other worlds. One such opening appears to be the point of the much debated rose oil. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its helm, classifies these portals as a challenge to the religion's orthodoxy and aims to destroy them. As Lyra begins to shift from inflexible logic and revert to instinct, however, her conviction that these locations must be protected – that their significance and what they offer is in some way essential – increases. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a Blakean struggle between naivety and maturity is prepared.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
