Things are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that appears, now more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and troubling lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is draining from states, and pooling in the halls of theocrats, the treasuries of corporations, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says businessman a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and durable are deteriorating and failing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Just what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that drives this final volume, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, according to many, the author's last foray into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting world he first revealed in the distant past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a world whose landscape corresponds to that of the real world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the people appear and think and behave like us, but are accompanied by daemons, essences in creature form; where the air are populated with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, vehicles are taken and tea is drunk, and older scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a child in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a adult: still distinctly the prickly and determined main character of the earlier books, but older, more sorrowful, more cautious, more doubtful. This circumscription is amplified by her division from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to depart in search of that innocent part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an quality which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, facing with amazement and peril on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in action, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the religious governing authority, and the author's masterfully eerie representation of strict, bureaucratic wickedness – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's family member, who faults her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of president of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his fresh influence to broaden the religion's rule. A key character, who carried young the heroine to refuge along a flooded Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in espionage: he is sent to a key location to learn more about the antagonist's intentions. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and precious botanical extract which seems in some way to be the cause of a social and financial crisis emanating out from Central Asia. The oil is viewed by some as a commercial product, by others as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by further factions – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a source of darkness; an affront that must be eradicated. The issue of its origins, its significance, and whether it should be removed or protected is escalating in importance.
Similar to the first series, our protagonist's decisions, and her fate, are revealed to be inseparably connected with the destiny of the realm
In the previous volume, these storylines ran broadly in parallel. In the conclusion, they come together. As in the first trilogy, her movements and her path are shown to be deeply linked with the fate of the world. Her private journey to rejoin with her companion and recover her vision becomes the primary conflict in a wider war with an controlling regime which, as such regimes always have, is attempting to suppress autonomy of thinking, innovation and art: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The book starts with the unveiling of a series of curious openings in the makeup of the Earth's sky: portals that look to lead to different dimensions. An example of a window appears to be the point of the highly contested mystical extract. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its helm, labels these portals as a threat to the religion's beliefs and endeavors to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from strict rationalism and return to feeling, however, her conviction that these sites must be protected – that their significance and what they offer is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a philosophical conflict between innocence and knowledge is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
