Things are falling apart in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, in this volume especially, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar 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 flowing away from states, and accumulating in the halls of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, stealthily, gradually", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Things we thought were firm and strong are weakening and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Just what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where its predecessor left off. This is, reportedly, Pullman's last venture into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting world he first revealed in the distant past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose terrain aligns with that of our world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals appear and think and behave like us, but are paired by external spirits, souls in creature form; where the skies are filled with witches and gryphons, but underneath, vehicles are taken and drinks is drunk, and mature professors carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the spiky and persistent main character of the prior volumes, but aged, melancholic, more careful, less certain. This circumscription is intensified by her division from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to leave in search of that childlike part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an trait which he represents as her "imagination"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which followed the protagonist undertake a adventurous voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with wonder and peril on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in action, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the faith's controlling power, and the author's masterfully eerie incarnation of austere, administrative malice – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's relative, who faults her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of president of the authority's governing body, and is determined on using his newfound authority to extend the institution's rule. A key character, who rescued young Lyra to security along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a sideline in espionage: he is assigned to Geneva to learn more about the antagonist's plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and precious essential oil which appears somehow to be the origin of a societal and financial upheaval spreading out from the region. The substance is seen by certain groups as a marketable commodity, by others as a scientific or mystical wonder, and by further factions – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a wellspring of darkness; an affront that must be eradicated. The question of where it comes from, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the original trilogy, Lyra's deeds, and her fate, are shown to be inseparably connected with the destiny of the realm
In the previous volume, these storylines ran largely in parallel. In the conclusion, they merge. As in the first trilogy, her movements and her fate are shown to be deeply linked with the destiny of the universe. Her individual quest to reunite with her companion and regain her creativity becomes the central struggle in a wider war with an authoritarian government which, as these systems often attempt, is attempting to suppress freedom of reason, originality and culture: all the internal, resistant ways in which humans can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The book begins with the discovery of a set of unusual cracks in the structure of the planet's sky: portals that seem to open into alternate realities. An example of a portal manifests to be the source of the highly contested mystical extract. The church, with the antagonist at its head, designates these openings as a problem to the institution's doctrine and endeavors to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from inflexible reason and back to instinct, nevertheless, her belief that these locations must be defended – that what they stand for and their value is in some way essential – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or whatever we call it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a poetic struggle between naivety and knowledge is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
