Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that manifests, here more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or restructuring themselves along new and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from governments, and accumulating in the offices of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the hands of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the Silk Roads from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and strong are faltering and giving way."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Exactly what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that drives The Rose Field, which picks up where the previous book concluded. This is, by all accounts, the author's final excursion into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting universe he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose geography corresponds to that of our world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and behave like us, but are paired by daemons, essences in creature form; where the skies are filled with witches and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, transports are taken and beverages is sipped, and middle-aged academics carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the first volume, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still clearly the prickly and persistent protagonist of the previous installments, but more mature, melancholic, more cautious, more doubtful. This circumscription is intensified by her separation from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to depart in search of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an trait which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with wonder and danger on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in motion, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the faith's controlling power, and the author's brilliantly sinister representation of austere, bureaucratic wickedness – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – Lyra's relative, who blames her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the office of head of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his newfound authority to broaden the institution's control. Another protagonist, who carried infant Lyra to refuge along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in espionage: he is assigned to the city to discover more about Delamare's plans. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and precious botanical extract which manifests in some way to be the origin of a social and financial crisis spreading out from that area. The oil is viewed by certain groups as a tradeable product, by different parties as a research-based or spiritual miracle, and by yet others – the extremist "highland figures" – as a source of malevolence; an challenge that must be eradicated. The question of its source, its significance, and whether it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.
As in His Dark Materials, the heroine's decisions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be inextricably connected with the future of the world
In its predecessor, these storylines ran mostly in parallel. In this final book, they converge. Similar to the first trilogy, Lyra's actions and her destiny are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the universe. Her private quest to reconnect with her soul and recover her vision becomes the central battleground in a wider war with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes often attempt, is attempting to stifle autonomy of reason, originality and art: all the inner, rebellious ways in which humans can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The novel opens with the unveiling of a set of strange openings in the structure of the planet's sky: gateways that look to give on to other worlds. One such opening appears to be the origin of the highly contested botanical substance. The church, with Delamare at its leadership, labels these portals as a threat to the institution's doctrine and sets out to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from strict reason and return to feeling, however, her conviction that these sites must be protected – that their significance and what they offer is mysteriously essential – grows. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a philosophical tussle between innocence and maturity is set.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
