Things are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a realm that appears, in this volume especially, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along new and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from governments, and gathering in the offices of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the control of rioters. "An element is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and solid are deteriorating and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that drives The Rose Field, which resumes where the previous book left off. This is, by all accounts, the author's final excursion into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling realm he first unveiled in the distant past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose geography corresponds to that of our world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and think and behave like us, but are paired by external spirits, essences in beast form; where the air are teeming with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, buses are taken and beverages is drunk, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the first volume, the origin story with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still distinctly the prickly and tenacious main character of the earlier books, but more mature, sadder, more careful, less certain. This restraint is amplified by her split from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to go off in quest of that innocent part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a adventurous trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and risk on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in action, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the faith's ruling body, and the author's deliciously chilling incarnation of rigid, bureaucratic wickedness – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's uncle, who faults her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of leader of the church's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his fresh authority to extend the institution's rule. A key character, who rescued young the heroine to security along a overflowing Thames as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is assigned to Geneva to learn more about Delamare's plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and precious rose oil which seems mysteriously to be the source of a societal and economic disturbance rippling out from that area. The substance is regarded by certain groups as a commercial product, by different parties as a empirical or esoteric wonder, and by yet others – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of darkness; an insult that must be eradicated. The dilemma of where it comes from, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or protected is becoming urgent.
Like the first series, Lyra's deeds, and her future, are shown to be inseparably connected with the fate of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in parallel. In this final book, they converge. Like the first trilogy, her actions and her destiny are revealed to be inseparably linked with the fate of the universe. Her individual quest to reconnect with her soul and recover her vision becomes the central conflict in a broader battle with an authoritarian regime which, as such regimes often attempt, is striving to suppress autonomy of reason, originality and art: all the personal, rebellious ways in which humans can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The novel begins with the unveiling of a set of strange cracks in the fabric of the Earth's sky: gateways that appear to give on to other worlds. An example of a portal appears to be the origin of the much debated rose oil. The church, with the antagonist at its leadership, designates these windows as a challenge to the institution's beliefs and endeavors to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to move from inflexible rationalism and return to intuition, however, her certainty that these sites must be protected – that what they stand for and their value is mysteriously vital – increases. "Dust, or the extract, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a Blakean conflict between naivety and knowledge is established.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
