Tings are collapsing in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that seems, now more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from governments, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of corporations, the control of crowds. "Something is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and durable are faltering and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Exactly what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that drives The Rose Field, which resumes where the previous book ended. This is, reportedly, the author's concluding excursion into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating realm he first revealed three decades past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a world whose terrain aligns with that of this world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are joined by external spirits, beings in animal form; where the skies are teeming with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, buses are ridden and beverages is drunk, and older professors carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the first volume, the introductory book with which the author began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still clearly the sharp and persistent heroine of the previous installments, but older, sadder, more cautious, more doubtful. This restraint is heightened by her split from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to depart in search of that youthful part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an quality which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which chronicled Lyra undertake a wandering journey across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and danger on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the faith's ruling body, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, bureaucratic wickedness – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's uncle, who faults her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the office of head of the Magisterium's governing body, and is intent on using his recently acquired influence to expand the institution's control. A key character, who carried young the heroine to refuge along a swollen Thames as an child in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in intelligence work: he is assigned to a key location to discover more about Delamare's intentions. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and valuable botanical extract which appears somehow to be the cause of a social and economic disturbance emanating out from that area. The extract is seen by some as a marketable product, by others as a research-based or esoteric phenomenon, and by others still – the zealous "highland figures" – as a wellspring of evil; an affront that must be eradicated. The issue of its source, its meaning, and if it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.
Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions, and her future, are revealed to be deeply connected with the fate of the world
In the previous volume, these plots ran largely in side by side. In the conclusion, they converge. Like His Dark Materials, the protagonist's actions and her fate are unveiled to be inextricably woven with the future of the universe. Her private journey to reconnect with her daemon and regain her imagination becomes the primary struggle in a wider conflict with an authoritarian system which, as such authorities typically do, is seeking to suppress freedom of reason, originality and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which humans can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The novel starts with the finding of a series of strange cracks in the structure of the world's sky: windows that appear to open into other worlds. An example of a window seems to be the source of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The authority, with the antagonist at its leadership, designates these portals as a challenge to the institution's beliefs and sets out to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from rigid logic and revert to intuition, however, her conviction that these locations must be preserved – that their meaning and what they provide is somehow essential – grows. "Dust, or the substance, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a philosophical conflict between naivety and maturity is established.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
