Tings are falling apart in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that appears, now more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from states, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, gradually", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Things we thought were stable and durable are weakening and giving way."
Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that animates The Rose Field, which resumes where its predecessor concluded. This is, according to many, the author's final excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting world he first introduced in the distant past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose geography aligns with that of this world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and behave like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, souls in animal form; where the air are populated with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but below, vehicles are ridden and tea is sipped, and middle-aged professors carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the prequel, the prequel with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still distinctly the prickly and persistent protagonist of the earlier books, but more mature, melancholic, more cautious, more doubtful. This limitation is heightened by her separation from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to depart in pursuit of that youthful part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he represents as her "creativity"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed Lyra undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with amazement and peril on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the faith's controlling power, and the author's masterfully eerie representation of strict, administrative malice – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. The antagonist – our protagonist's family member, who blames her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the role of president of the authority's High Council, and is intent on using his fresh authority to expand the institution's control. A key character, who rescued baby Lyra to security along a swollen Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is assigned to the city to discover more about Delamare's aims. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and costly essential oil which seems mysteriously to be the origin of a social and financial crisis emanating out from that area. The oil is viewed by various factions as a tradeable good, by different parties as a scientific or spiritual phenomenon, and by yet others – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a source of darkness; an insult that must be obliterated. The question of its source, its meaning, and if it should be removed or protected is escalating in importance.
As in the original trilogy, Lyra's actions, and her destiny, are shown to be deeply entwined with the future of the realm
In the previous volume, these narratives ran largely in side by side. In this final book, they converge. Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's choices and her path are shown to be deeply linked with the destiny of the world. Her private mission to rejoin with her companion and recover her imagination becomes the primary struggle in a broader battle with an oppressive system which, as such authorities typically do, is attempting to suppress autonomy of thinking, originality and culture: all the inner, resistant ways in which people can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The story starts with the finding of a set of curious openings in the makeup of the Earth's sky: gateways that appear to open into alternate realities. One such opening seems to be the origin of the highly contested botanical substance. The authority, with Delamare at its leadership, classifies these portals as a challenge to the institution's beliefs and aims to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from strict logic and revert to intuition, nevertheless, her certainty that these sites must be defended – that their significance and what they offer is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a poetic struggle between innocence and experience is prepared.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
