Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's masterful trilogies set in a world that seems, here more than ever, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from governments, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the grasp of crowds. "An element is at work, stealthily, gradually", says businessman a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and solid are deteriorating and failing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that animates The Rose Field, which resumes where the previous book concluded. This is, according to many, the author's concluding venture into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating realm he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose landscape maps on to that of our world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and reason and act like us, but are paired by daemons, essences in creature form; where the air are populated with witches and mythical beasts, but underneath, vehicles are ridden and drinks is sipped, and mature scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the prequel, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still clearly the sharp and tenacious main character of the earlier books, but aged, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This limitation is heightened by her separation from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to leave in quest of that childlike part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and risk on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in action, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the faith's governing authority, and the author's masterfully eerie incarnation of strict, administrative wickedness – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's uncle, who faults her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the office of leader of the authority's governing body, and is determined on using his newfound authority to extend the church's rule. Another protagonist, who saved infant Lyra to refuge along a overflowing river as an young boy in the first book, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is assigned to the city to find out more about his plans. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and valuable essential oil which seems somehow to be the cause of a societal and financial disturbance spreading out from that area. The substance is viewed by some as a tradeable commodity, by different parties as a scientific or esoteric phenomenon, and by yet others – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of malevolence; an insult that must be obliterated. The question of where it comes from, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is becoming urgent.
As in the first series, Lyra's actions, and her destiny, are shown to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran broadly in parallel. In the conclusion, they merge. Like His Dark Materials, the protagonist's choices and her path are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the realm. Her individual journey to reunite with her companion and regain her vision becomes the primary conflict in a broader conflict with an authoritarian government which, as such authorities typically do, is striving to quell freedom of thought, innovation and culture: all the personal, resistant ways in which humans can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The story starts with the finding of a series of strange fissures in the fabric of the world's sky: gateways that look to give on to alternate realities. One such window manifests to be the origin of the much debated botanical substance. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its helm, classifies these portals as a threat to the religion's orthodoxy and aims to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from rigid rationalism and revert to intuition, yet, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that what they stand for and their value is in some way essential – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a poetic struggle between naivety and experience is established.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
