Things are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that appears, now more than ever, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reassembling themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from governments, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the coffers of business empires, the grasp of mobs. "Something is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says businessman a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and durable are faltering and failing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Just what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that propels the concluding book, which resumes where its predecessor left off. This is, according to many, the author's last excursion into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling world he first unveiled in the distant past, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose terrain maps on to that of this world, but whose chronicles veers and changes 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 teeming with witches and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, buses are ridden and beverages is sipped, and middle-aged academics carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still clearly the sharp and determined heroine of the earlier books, but more mature, sadder, more careful, less sure. This limitation is heightened by her separation from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to go off in pursuit of that innocent part of her which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a wandering trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie representation of austere, bureaucratic malice – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's relative, who blames her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the role of head of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his newfound influence to broaden the religion's dominium. Another protagonist, who saved infant Lyra to safety along a swollen Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is dispatched to a key location to find out more about the antagonist's plans. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and precious botanical extract which appears somehow to be the origin of a social and economic disturbance spreading out from the region. The oil is viewed by various factions as a commercial good, by alternate groups as a research-based or mystical miracle, and by further factions – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of darkness; an affront that must be eradicated. The question of its origins, what it stands for, and if it should be removed or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the original trilogy, the heroine's deeds, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be inextricably connected with the fate of the world
In its predecessor, these storylines ran largely in parallel. In this final book, they come together. As in the first trilogy, her movements and her fate are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the universe. Her individual quest to rejoin with her companion and recover her imagination becomes the key battleground in a larger battle with an oppressive system which, as such authorities always have, is attempting to suppress independence of reason, innovation and culture: all the internal, defiant ways in which people can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The book begins with the discovery of a set of curious fissures in the fabric of the planet's air: windows that appear to open into other worlds. A particular window manifests to be the source of the highly contested botanical substance. The Magisterium, with its leader at its leadership, labels these portals as a threat to the church's beliefs and endeavors to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to move from strict reason and back to intuition, nevertheless, her conviction that these sites must be preserved – that what they stand for and their value is in some way essential – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a philosophical conflict between purity and experience is established.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
