Things are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that manifests, now more than ever, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from governments, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the hands of mobs. "Something is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and strong are faltering and failing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where its predecessor concluded. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final foray into the carefully crafted, infinitely beguiling world he first introduced 30 years ago, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose landscape aligns with that of this world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people appear and reason and act like us, but are joined by external spirits, essences in creature form; where the air are teeming with sorceresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, buses are caught and tea is consumed, and older academics carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a child in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still recognisably the spiky and tenacious main character of the prior volumes, but aged, sadder, warier, less certain. This limitation is heightened by her split from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to leave in search of that innocent part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a wandering voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and risk on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling embodiment of strict, bureaucratic malice – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – our protagonist's relative, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the authority's High Council, and is set on using his newfound authority to extend the church's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who carried baby the heroine to security along a flooded Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an academic with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is sent to Geneva to find out more about the antagonist's aims. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and precious essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the cause of a social and financial disturbance emanating out from the region. The extract is viewed by certain groups as a tradeable commodity, by alternate groups as a research-based or esoteric miracle, and by others still – the extremist "highland figures" – as a wellspring of darkness; an challenge that must be obliterated. The question of its source, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
Similar to the first series, the heroine's actions, and her future, are shown to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the world
In its predecessor, these storylines ran largely in side by side. In the conclusion, they come together. Similar to the original series, the protagonist's actions and her path are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the universe. Her individual mission to rejoin with her daemon and rediscover her vision becomes the key struggle in a larger war with an authoritarian system which, as these systems often attempt, is attempting to stifle independence of reason, originality and art: all the inner, defiant ways in which people can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The story begins with the discovery of a set of curious cracks in the fabric of the Earth's air: portals that look to open into alternate realities. One such window appears to be the source of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The church, with its leader at its head, classifies these windows as a challenge to the church's doctrine and aims to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict rationalism and revert to intuition, nevertheless, her certainty that these locations must be preserved – that their meaning and what they offer is mysteriously essential – strengthens. "Dust, or the substance, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a Blakean conflict between purity and maturity is set.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the