Tings are unraveling in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a realm that seems, now more than ever, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along novel and troubling lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from authorities, and pooling in the offices of theocrats, the vaults of business empires, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and durable are weakening and failing."
Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that propels this final volume, which picks up where the previous book left off. This is, reportedly, Pullman's last venture into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling world he first revealed 30 years ago, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose geography corresponds to that of our world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and behave like us, but are accompanied by daemons, souls in animal form; where the skies are populated with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but below, transports are caught and drinks is sipped, and mature academics carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the prequel, the origin story with which the author began the series, is now a young woman: still clearly the sharp and persistent protagonist of the earlier books, but aged, more sorrowful, more careful, more doubtful. This restraint is heightened by her separation from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to go off in search of that childlike part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he represents as her "creativity"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which chronicled Lyra undertake a wandering journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with amazement and risk on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in motion, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the church's ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of strict, administrative wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's family member, who holds responsible her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the role of leader of the Magisterium's High Council, and is set on using his fresh authority to expand the institution's control. Another protagonist, who rescued young Lyra to security along a swollen river as an young boy in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in intelligence work: he is sent to a key location to learn more about Delamare's plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and precious essential oil which manifests mysteriously to be the source of a social and economic crisis rippling out from the region. The extract is seen by certain groups as a marketable product, by others as a empirical or esoteric wonder, and by further factions – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a origin of darkness; an challenge that must be eradicated. The question of where it comes from, what it stands for, and if it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.
Similar to His Dark Materials, our protagonist's actions, and her fate, are shown to be inextricably connected with the destiny of the world
In its predecessor, these storylines ran broadly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they merge. As in His Dark Materials, the protagonist's movements and her destiny are unveiled to be inseparably woven with the destiny of the universe. Her individual mission to reunite with her soul and recover her creativity becomes the central struggle in a wider battle with an controlling system which, as such authorities often attempt, is seeking to suppress autonomy of thinking, originality and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which humans can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The book begins with the unveiling of a set of curious cracks in the makeup of the planet's sky: windows that appear to lead to different dimensions. An example of a portal appears to be the point of the highly contested rose oil. The church, with Delamare at its head, labels these openings as a challenge to the religion's beliefs and aims to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from strict rationalism and return to instinct, however, her belief that these sites must be protected – that their meaning and what they offer is in some way essential – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or whatever we name it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a Blakean conflict between innocence and experience is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
