Things are unraveling in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that manifests, in this volume especially, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or reorganizing themselves along new and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from states, and pooling in the offices of theocrats, the coffers of corporations, the grasp of mobs. "Something is at work, stealthily, gradually", says trader a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were firm and durable are deteriorating and failing."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that drives this final volume, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's final foray into the carefully crafted, infinitely beguiling world he first introduced 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose terrain maps on to that of this world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals appear and think and act like us, but are accompanied by daemons, beings in creature form; where the air are filled with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but below, vehicles are ridden and drinks is sipped, and mature professors carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the sharp and tenacious heroine of the previous installments, but older, more sorrowful, more careful, more doubtful. This restraint is heightened by her division from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to depart in search of that childlike part of her which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which followed the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, facing with amazement and danger on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in motion, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister incarnation of strict, administrative malice – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – Lyra's family member, who faults her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the position of president of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is set on using his fresh influence to expand the church's control. A key character, who rescued young Lyra to refuge along a swollen Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is assigned to Geneva to learn more about the antagonist's intentions. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and valuable essential oil which appears in some way to be the cause of a societal and economic disturbance emanating out from Central Asia. The oil is seen by some as a marketable commodity, by different parties as a research-based or spiritual miracle, and by others still – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an challenge that must be eradicated. The question of its source, what it stands for, and whether it should be removed or protected is escalating in importance.
Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's decisions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be inseparably linked with the future of the realm
In the previous volume, these narratives ran mostly in side by side. In the conclusion, they merge. Like the first trilogy, the protagonist's actions and her fate are unveiled to be deeply woven with the future of the realm. Her individual mission to reconnect with her daemon and rediscover her vision becomes the primary conflict in a broader war with an oppressive government which, as these systems often attempt, is attempting to quell autonomy of thinking, innovation and culture: all the inner, resistant ways in which people can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The story opens with the unveiling of a set of strange openings in the makeup of the planet's air: portals that appear to open into other worlds. A particular portal manifests to be the origin of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The church, with its leader at its leadership, labels these openings as a challenge to the church's beliefs and endeavors to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict rationalism and back to instinct, yet, her belief that these locations must be defended – that their meaning and their value is in some way vital – increases. "The substance, or the extract, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a Blakean struggle between innocence and knowledge is set.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
