Tings are falling apart in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that appears, now more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reorganizing themselves along new and troubling lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from governments, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of conglomerates, the control of rioters. "An element is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and solid are deteriorating and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that animates this final volume, which continues where the previous book ended. This is, reportedly, the author's final foray into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating universe he first introduced 30 years ago, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography corresponds to that of our world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and behave like us, but are paired by animal souls, souls in creature form; where the skies are populated with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, vehicles are taken and drinks is sipped, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still distinctly the prickly and persistent protagonist of the earlier books, but older, sadder, warier, less sure. This limitation is amplified by her separation from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to leave in quest of that youthful part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which followed Lyra undertake a wandering journey across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and peril on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and the author's masterfully eerie representation of rigid, procedural wickedness – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's uncle, who faults her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of leader of the church's High Council, and is set on using his fresh influence to extend the religion's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who carried infant Lyra to refuge along a swollen river as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a additional duty in spycraft: he is dispatched to a key location to find out more about Delamare's plans. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and precious essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a social and economic crisis emanating out from the region. The substance is regarded by certain groups as a commercial commodity, by others as a research-based or mystical phenomenon, and by yet others – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a source of evil; an insult that must be destroyed. The dilemma of where it comes from, its significance, and if it should be removed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Like the original trilogy, the heroine's deeds, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the universe
In the previous volume, these narratives ran mostly in tandem. In the conclusion, they merge. As in His Dark Materials, the protagonist's movements and her destiny are unveiled to be inseparably linked with the future of the universe. Her personal mission to rejoin with her daemon and rediscover her creativity becomes the primary conflict in a wider battle with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes typically do, is attempting to suppress freedom of reason, originality and art: all the personal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The novel starts with the finding of a series of strange fissures in the structure of the Earth's atmosphere: gateways that seem to lead to different dimensions. An example of a opening appears to be the source of the highly contested rose oil. The church, with the antagonist at its leadership, designates these portals as a problem to the institution's doctrine and sets out to destroy them. As Lyra begins to turn away from rigid reason and back to instinct, nevertheless, her certainty that these sites must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is somehow crucial – strengthens. "Dust, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or whatever we call it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a philosophical struggle between naivety and maturity is set.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
