Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that seems, now more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or restructuring themselves along new and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from authorities, and gathering in the offices of religious leaders, the coffers of business empires, the grasp of rioters. "An element is at work, silently, gradually", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an city cafe. "Things we thought were stable and solid are deteriorating and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Just what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that drives The Rose Field, which picks up where the previous book concluded. This is, reportedly, the author's final excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose geography aligns with that of the real world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and reason and act like us, but are joined by external spirits, essences in animal form; where the skies are populated with witches and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, buses are caught and tea is sipped, and middle-aged academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first met as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still recognisably the spiky and tenacious main character of the previous installments, but older, sadder, more cautious, less certain. This circumscription is heightened by her split from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to go off in pursuit of that childlike part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an quality which he represents as her "imagination"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with amazement and danger on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the faith's controlling power, and the author's masterfully eerie incarnation of austere, procedural wickedness – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. The antagonist – the heroine's relative, who faults her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of head of the Magisterium's High Council, and is set on using his fresh power to extend the institution's control. A key character, who saved baby Lyra to refuge along a flooded river as an child in the first book, is now an academic with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to a key location to find out more about Delamare's plans. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and valuable botanical extract which seems in some way to be the origin of a societal and financial disturbance rippling out from Central Asia. The oil is regarded by some as a commercial good, by others as a research-based or spiritual wonder, and by others still – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a source of evil; an challenge that must be eradicated. The issue of its source, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the original trilogy, our protagonist's decisions, and her fate, are shown to be deeply connected with the future of the realm
In its predecessor, these plots ran broadly in side by side. In this final book, they merge. Similar to His Dark Materials, her movements and her path are shown to be deeply woven with the destiny of the universe. Her private mission to rejoin with her daemon and recover her vision becomes the key conflict in a broader conflict with an oppressive government which, as such regimes typically do, is attempting to stifle independence of reason, creativity and art: all the inner, resistant ways in which people can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The story begins with the unveiling of a series of unusual cracks in the structure of the world's air: gateways that look to give on to alternate realities. An example of a opening manifests to be the source of the much debated botanical substance. The church, with Delamare at its head, labels these windows as a problem to the institution's beliefs and aims to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to shift from inflexible reason and back to intuition, nevertheless, her belief that these places must be defended – that their meaning and what they provide is somehow vital – increases. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a poetic conflict between purity and experience is established.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
