Things are unraveling in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's masterful trilogies set in a world that seems, here more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along new and troubling lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is draining from authorities, and pooling in the offices of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the grasp of mobs. "Some force is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says merchant a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and durable are deteriorating and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that propels this final volume, which picks up where the previous book left off. This is, according to many, the author's final foray into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling realm he first introduced 30 years ago, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose terrain corresponds to that of this world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and think and act like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, beings in creature form; where the air are teeming with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, transports are ridden and tea is sipped, and older scholars carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still distinctly the spiky and determined heroine of the previous installments, but aged, more sorrowful, more cautious, more doubtful. This circumscription is intensified by her split from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to go off in quest of that childlike part of her which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which saw Lyra undertake a adventurous trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and risk on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in play, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the religious controlling power, and the author's deliciously chilling incarnation of strict, bureaucratic evil – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. The antagonist – our protagonist's family member, who blames her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the role of leader of the church's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his newfound influence to expand the religion's control. A key character, who carried baby Lyra to refuge along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an academic with a sideline in spycraft: he is assigned to Geneva to find out more about his plans. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and costly essential oil which seems somehow to be the origin of a societal and financial crisis spreading out from that area. The oil is viewed by various factions as a commercial product, by others as a research-based or spiritual miracle, and by further factions – the extremist "highland figures" – as a source of malevolence; an affront that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its source, its significance, and whether it should be removed or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
Similar to the original trilogy, our protagonist's deeds, and her future, are shown to be deeply connected with the fate of the realm
In its predecessor, these narratives ran mostly in parallel. In The Rose Field, they converge. As in the original series, her movements and her destiny are revealed to be deeply linked with the fate of the world. Her personal mission to rejoin with her soul and regain her vision becomes the primary battleground in a broader battle with an oppressive government which, as such regimes often attempt, is seeking to suppress independence of thinking, originality and culture: all the inner, defiant ways in which people can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The book opens with the unveiling of a set of strange cracks in the makeup of the Earth's air: windows that appear to lead to different dimensions. One such portal manifests to be the source of the highly contested mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its head, designates these portals as a threat to the religion's doctrine and endeavors to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to move from strict logic and back to intuition, yet, her belief that these places must be defended – that their significance and their value is in some way crucial – grows. "Dust, or the substance, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a philosophical tussle between naivety and experience is set.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
