Things are falling apart in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a universe that appears, here more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from authorities, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the grasp of mobs. "An element is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and solid are faltering and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Precisely what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that drives The Rose Field, which resumes where its predecessor left off. This is, according to many, the author's last excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting world he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose landscape aligns with that of the real world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and behave like us, but are joined by external spirits, beings in animal form; where the heavens are teeming with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, buses are caught and drinks is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still distinctly the spiky and persistent main character of the prior volumes, but more mature, more sorrowful, more careful, less sure. This limitation is amplified by her division from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to depart in quest of that youthful part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which chronicled Lyra undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and risk on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the church's governing authority, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister representation of strict, bureaucratic malice – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of head of the authority's governing body, and is determined on using his newfound authority to expand the church's control. Another protagonist, who carried young the heroine to security along a flooded river as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is assigned to Geneva to find out more about Delamare's intentions. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and precious botanical extract which seems in some way to be the source of a social and economic disturbance rippling out from that area. The oil is seen by certain groups as a commercial product, by alternate groups as a research-based or mystical wonder, and by yet others – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of malevolence; an challenge that must be eradicated. The issue of where it comes from, what it stands for, and if it should be removed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Similar to His Dark Materials, the heroine's actions, and her future, are demonstrated to be inseparably connected with the fate of the realm
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in side by side. In this final book, they come together. Like the original series, her choices and her destiny are unveiled to be inextricably entwined with the future of the world. Her personal mission to reunite with her daemon and regain her imagination becomes the key conflict in a wider battle with an authoritarian government which, as such regimes typically do, is seeking to stifle independence of reason, creativity and art: all the inner, resistant ways in which people can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The story begins with the unveiling of a collection of curious fissures in the structure of the world's air: portals that look to lead to different dimensions. A particular window appears to be the origin of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The church, with its leader at its helm, labels these windows as a threat to the church's beliefs and aims to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from strict reason and revert to instinct, yet, her conviction that these sites must be preserved – that their significance and what they offer is in some way vital – increases. "Dust, or the substance, or the vision, or the field of roses, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a Blakean conflict between naivety and maturity is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
