Things are unraveling in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's grand trilogies set in a world that seems, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or reorganizing themselves along new and troubling lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from authorities, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the hands of rioters. "An element is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were secure and durable are deteriorating and failing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that drives the concluding book, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final foray into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose terrain maps on to that of this world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the people appear and reason and act like us, but are paired by daemons, essences in creature form; where the skies are teeming with witches and legendary creatures, but below, vehicles are caught and tea is consumed, and middle-aged professors carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which the author began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still clearly the sharp and tenacious heroine of the prior volumes, but older, sadder, warier, less sure. This restraint is intensified by her separation from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to leave in search of that youthful part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an trait which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which saw the protagonist undertake a adventurous journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with marvel and peril on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in play, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of strict, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's family member, who blames her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the position of president of the church's governing body, and is intent on using his recently acquired power to broaden the church's rule. Another protagonist, who carried infant Lyra to safety along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an academic with a secondary role in spycraft: he is assigned to the city to discover more about the antagonist's plans. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious botanical extract which appears somehow to be the origin of a social and economic upheaval spreading out from Central Asia. The oil is seen by various factions as a commercial good, by different parties as a research-based or mystical miracle, and by yet others – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a source of darkness; an affront that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its source, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in the first series, Lyra's actions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be deeply connected with the fate of the realm
In its predecessor, these narratives ran broadly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they merge. Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's movements and her path are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the future of the realm. Her private journey to reconnect with her soul and regain her vision becomes the key conflict in a larger war with an authoritarian government which, as these systems always have, is seeking to quell autonomy of thinking, creativity and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The story opens with the unveiling of a collection of unusual fissures in the fabric of the planet's atmosphere: windows that look to open into other worlds. A particular portal seems to be the point of the highly contested botanical substance. The church, with its leader at its helm, designates these openings as a problem to the religion's doctrine and endeavors to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to move from inflexible logic and revert to intuition, however, her belief that these sites must be defended – that their meaning and their value is in some way crucial – strengthens. "The substance, or the substance, or the vision, or the field of roses, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a philosophical struggle between innocence and experience is established.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
