Things are unraveling in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's grand trilogies set in a world that seems, here more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from states, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the hands of mobs. "An element is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Things we thought were firm and solid are weakening and failing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Just what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels the concluding book, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, reportedly, the author's final excursion into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting world he first revealed three decades past, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose terrain aligns with that of our world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and reason and behave like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, souls in animal form; where the heavens are teeming with witches and legendary creatures, but underneath, buses are caught and beverages is consumed, and mature professors carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a adult: still distinctly the sharp and determined protagonist of the previous installments, but more mature, more sorrowful, more careful, less sure. This restraint is heightened by her separation from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to leave in pursuit of that innocent part of her which she appears to have shed (an quality which he represents as her "imagination"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which chronicled Lyra undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with marvel and peril on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the church's governing authority, and the author's deliciously chilling embodiment of austere, administrative malice – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. The antagonist – the heroine's uncle, who blames her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of leader of the church's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his fresh influence to expand the religion's control. Another protagonist, who saved young Lyra to security along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to a key location to find out more about his plans. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and precious botanical extract which manifests in some way to be the cause of a social and financial crisis rippling out from that area. The oil is viewed by certain groups as a tradeable good, by others as a empirical or mystical phenomenon, and by others still – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a source of darkness; an insult that must be obliterated. The dilemma of its source, what it stands for, and whether it should be destroyed or protected is escalating in importance.
Similar to the first series, the heroine's actions, and her future, are demonstrated to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the world
In its predecessor, these plots ran mostly in parallel. In the conclusion, they converge. Like the original series, Lyra's choices and her fate are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the world. Her individual mission to reconnect with her companion and recover her creativity becomes the central conflict in a larger war with an authoritarian system which, as such authorities typically do, is seeking to stifle independence of thought, innovation and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which people can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The book begins with the discovery of a set of unusual openings in the makeup of the planet's sky: gateways that look to open into alternate realities. A particular portal appears to be the origin of the much debated rose oil. The church, with Delamare at its helm, labels these windows as a challenge to the church's orthodoxy and sets out to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from inflexible logic and revert to intuition, yet, her conviction that these places must be protected – that their significance and what they offer is in some way crucial – strengthens. "The substance, or rose oil, or the vision, or the field of roses, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a poetic tussle between purity and knowledge is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
