Tings are unraveling in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that manifests, now more than ever, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from governments, and pooling in the chambers of theocrats, the treasuries of corporations, the hands of mobs. "An element is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and durable are weakening and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that animates this final volume, which continues where the previous book left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's last excursion into the carefully crafted, infinitely beguiling realm he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose landscape maps on to that of our world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and think and behave like us, but are paired by animal souls, beings in animal form; where the skies are populated with enchantresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, buses are ridden and tea is consumed, and mature academics carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the first volume, the origin story with which Pullman began the series, is now a young woman: still recognisably the sharp and determined main character of the earlier books, but more mature, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This restraint is amplified by her division from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to go off in pursuit of that youthful part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an quality which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which followed Lyra undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in action, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the faith's controlling power, and the author's brilliantly sinister representation of strict, administrative malice – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's relative, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the position of head of the church's High Council, and is set on using his newfound influence to extend the religion's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who carried baby Lyra to refuge along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an academic with a secondary role in espionage: he is sent to a key location to learn more about Delamare's intentions. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and costly botanical extract which seems somehow to be the origin of a societal and financial disturbance spreading out from the region. The substance is seen by various factions as a commercial good, by different parties as a research-based or mystical miracle, and by further factions – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a source of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The question of its source, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in the original trilogy, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are revealed to be inextricably linked with the fate of the universe
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in side by side. In The Rose Field, they come together. Like the original series, her choices and her fate are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the universe. Her private quest to rejoin with her companion and recover her imagination becomes the key struggle in a wider conflict with an oppressive regime which, as these systems often attempt, is attempting to stifle freedom of thinking, creativity and art: all the personal, defiant ways in which individuals can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The story opens with the finding of a set of unusual openings in the structure of the world's air: gateways that seem to open into alternate realities. A particular portal seems to be the point of the much debated rose oil. The authority, with its leader at its helm, labels these openings as a challenge to the institution's orthodoxy and sets out to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to move from inflexible rationalism and back to intuition, however, her belief that these sites must be defended – that what they stand for and their value is mysteriously essential – grows. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a Blakean conflict between naivety and knowledge is set.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the