Tings are falling apart in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a world that manifests, now more than ever, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along new and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from authorities, and pooling in the chambers of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the hands of crowds. "Some force is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and strong are deteriorating and failing."
Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that animates The Rose Field, which resumes where its predecessor ended. This is, reportedly, the author's final excursion into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating realm he first unveiled in the distant past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose terrain aligns with that of our world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the people appear and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, essences in creature form; where the air are populated with witches and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are ridden and tea is drunk, and middle-aged academics carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first met as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the first volume, the origin story with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still clearly the prickly and determined main character of the earlier books, but older, sadder, more careful, more doubtful. This limitation is amplified by her division from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to leave in search of that youthful part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an quality which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled Lyra undertake a wandering voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with wonder and risk on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in play, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the church's ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, procedural wickedness – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – Lyra's family member, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of head of the authority's High Council, and is determined on using his newfound influence to expand the church's rule. A key character, who carried baby Lyra to refuge along a flooded Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an academic with a sideline in espionage: he is dispatched to a key location to find out more about Delamare's plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and costly essential oil which manifests mysteriously to be the origin of a social and economic upheaval spreading out from that area. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a commercial good, by others as a scientific or esoteric miracle, and by further factions – the zealous "highland figures" – as a source of darkness; an affront that must be eradicated. The question of its source, its meaning, and whether it should be destroyed or preserved is escalating in importance.
Similar to His Dark Materials, our protagonist's decisions, and her future, are demonstrated to be deeply linked with the future of the realm
In the previous volume, these narratives ran broadly in tandem. In the conclusion, they merge. As in the first trilogy, Lyra's actions and her path are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the realm. Her individual journey to reunite with her companion and regain her imagination becomes the central conflict in a larger battle with an authoritarian government which, as these systems typically do, is attempting to stifle autonomy of thought, creativity and art: all the internal, rebellious ways in which humans can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The story opens with the finding of a collection of unusual fissures in the structure of the planet's atmosphere: portals that seem to lead to alternate realities. An example of a opening manifests to be the origin of the much debated mystical extract. The authority, with its leader at its helm, labels these windows as a problem to the church's beliefs and sets out to destroy them. As Lyra begins to shift from inflexible rationalism and revert to feeling, nevertheless, her conviction that these places must be preserved – that what they stand for and what they provide is somehow crucial – grows. "Dust, or rose oil, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we call it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a philosophical tussle between innocence and maturity is set.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
