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 manifests, now more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and troubling lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from authorities, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the grasp of mobs. "Something is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were secure and solid are deteriorating and failing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Exactly what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that animates this final volume, which continues where the previous book concluded. This is, according to many, Pullman's final foray into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating world he first revealed three decades past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose landscape aligns with that of our world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and reason and behave like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, essences in beast form; where the heavens are filled with witches and legendary creatures, but below, transports are caught and tea is sipped, and older scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a child in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the first volume, the origin story with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a adult: still recognisably the spiky and persistent main character of the previous installments, but aged, more sorrowful, more careful, more doubtful. This restraint is intensified by her split from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to go off in pursuit of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an quality which he represents as her "imagination"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and risk on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the church's governing authority, and the author's deliciously chilling embodiment of strict, bureaucratic wickedness – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's uncle, who faults her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of president of the Magisterium's governing body, and is intent on using his fresh influence to expand the religion's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who carried infant Lyra to safety along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is assigned to a key location to find out more about Delamare's aims. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and costly rose oil which appears somehow to be the cause of a societal and economic upheaval emanating out from that area. The extract is viewed by various factions as a commercial product, by alternate groups as a empirical or esoteric wonder, and by others still – the zealous "highland figures" – as a source of malevolence; an insult that must be obliterated. The question of its origins, its meaning, and whether it should be eliminated or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like the first series, Lyra's deeds, and her future, are demonstrated to be deeply connected with the future of the world
In its predecessor, these plots ran mostly in side by side. In the conclusion, they converge. Like the original series, her actions and her path are unveiled to be inseparably entwined with the future of the universe. Her personal journey to reunite with her daemon and regain her creativity becomes the central conflict in a larger battle with an controlling government which, as such authorities typically do, is attempting to suppress autonomy of thinking, innovation and culture: all the personal, defiant ways in which people can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The book begins with the discovery of a set of strange cracks in the makeup of the planet's atmosphere: windows that seem to give on to different dimensions. An example of a window manifests to be the origin of the highly contested mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its head, classifies these portals as a problem to the church's doctrine and endeavors to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from strict logic and revert to instinct, however, her certainty that these places must be preserved – that what they stand for and their value is in some way crucial – grows. "Dust, or the extract, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a poetic conflict between innocence and maturity is set.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
