Things are unraveling in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, now more than ever, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is draining from authorities, and gathering in the offices of theocrats, the vaults of conglomerates, the hands of mobs. "Something is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and strong are weakening and failing."
Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that animates this final volume, which picks up where its predecessor concluded. This is, reportedly, the author's concluding venture into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting world he first introduced in the distant past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography aligns with that of this world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals appear and think and behave like us, but are accompanied by daemons, souls in animal form; where the air are populated with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but below, transports are taken and beverages is sipped, and older academics carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a young woman: still clearly the spiky and persistent protagonist of the previous installments, but aged, melancholic, more cautious, less sure. This limitation is heightened by her separation from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to go off in search of that childlike part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw the protagonist undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious ruling body, and the author's masterfully eerie incarnation of rigid, administrative evil – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the role of leader of the Magisterium's governing body, and is set on using his newfound influence to expand the church's rule. Another protagonist, who saved baby the heroine to security along a flooded Thames as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in spycraft: he is dispatched to the city to find out more about Delamare's plans. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and precious rose oil which manifests somehow to be the cause of a societal and economic crisis emanating out from Central Asia. The extract is viewed by various factions as a commercial product, by different parties as a research-based or mystical miracle, and by further factions – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a source of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The dilemma of its source, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or preserved is becoming urgent.
Similar to the original trilogy, Lyra's decisions, and her future, are shown to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the realm
In its predecessor, these narratives ran mostly in tandem. In the conclusion, they merge. As in the first trilogy, Lyra's movements and her fate are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the universe. Her private quest to rejoin with her soul and rediscover her creativity becomes the primary struggle in a broader war with an controlling system which, as these systems often attempt, is attempting to quell freedom of reason, innovation and expression: all the personal, defiant ways in which individuals can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The story starts with the discovery of a series of curious fissures in the structure of the planet's air: portals that appear to lead to alternate realities. A particular opening seems to be the point of the highly contested botanical substance. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its head, designates these portals as a problem to the institution's beliefs and endeavors to destroy them. As Lyra begins to shift from rigid logic and revert to instinct, yet, her belief that these sites must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is mysteriously crucial – increases. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a Blakean tussle between purity and experience is set.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
