Things are unraveling in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that appears, now more than ever, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from authorities, and pooling in the halls of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the hands of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his place in an city cafe. "Things we thought were firm and solid are faltering and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that drives The Rose Field, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, reportedly, Pullman's final foray into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling world he first revealed in the distant past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a world whose geography maps on to that of the real world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the people appear and reason and behave like us, but are joined by daemons, essences in animal form; where the heavens are populated with witches and gryphons, but below, transports are ridden and tea is consumed, and mature scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a child in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the first volume, the prequel with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still clearly the prickly and persistent heroine of the prior volumes, but more mature, sadder, more careful, less sure. This circumscription is heightened by her separation from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to leave in pursuit of that innocent part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an trait which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which saw Lyra undertake a wandering trek across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and risk on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of austere, procedural evil – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. The antagonist – the heroine's uncle, who blames her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the position of president of the Magisterium's High Council, and is intent on using his newfound influence to extend the church's control. Malcolm Polstead, who saved infant Lyra to refuge along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is assigned to the city to discover more about Delamare's aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and costly rose oil which manifests mysteriously to be the origin of a social and financial disturbance spreading out from that area. The substance is viewed by some as a commercial product, by alternate groups as a research-based or esoteric phenomenon, and by yet others – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an challenge that must be eradicated. The question of its origins, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in His Dark Materials, the heroine's actions, and her future, are shown to be inseparably connected with the fate of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran broadly in parallel. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions and her path are revealed to be deeply entwined with the fate of the universe. Her individual quest to reconnect with her companion and regain her imagination becomes the central battleground in a larger conflict with an oppressive government which, as such regimes typically do, is attempting to stifle autonomy of thought, innovation and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which humans can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The story opens with the finding of a series of unusual cracks in the makeup of the planet's sky: portals that look to lead to different dimensions. An example of a portal appears to be the source of the highly contested botanical substance. The authority, with Delamare at its helm, classifies these windows as a challenge to the church's beliefs and aims to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from inflexible reason and revert to instinct, nevertheless, her belief that these locations must be defended – that what they stand for and what they provide is mysteriously essential – strengthens. "The substance, or the substance, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a Blakean tussle between naivety and maturity is established.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
