Tings are falling apart in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along new and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is draining from governments, and gathering in the offices of religious leaders, the treasuries of conglomerates, the control of mobs. "An element is at work, silently, gradually", says businessman a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and strong are weakening and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Precisely what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that propels this final volume, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, by all accounts, the author's final foray into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling universe he first unveiled three decades past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose terrain corresponds to that of this world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and act like us, but are paired by external spirits, essences in creature form; where the skies are teeming with sorceresses and gryphons, but underneath, buses are caught and beverages is sipped, and older academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in the first volume, the origin story with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a adult: still recognisably the prickly and determined heroine of the previous installments, but more mature, melancholic, more cautious, more doubtful. This restraint is intensified by her split from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to depart in quest of that childlike part of her which she may have forgotten (an quality which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with wonder and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of rigid, procedural evil – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – Lyra's uncle, who faults her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the role of president of the church's governing body, and is determined on using his recently acquired influence to broaden the church's control. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued infant the heroine to safety along a swollen Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is dispatched to a key location to learn more about his intentions. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and costly botanical extract which appears in some way to be the source of a social and financial disturbance rippling out from the region. The oil is seen by various factions as a tradeable product, by others as a research-based or mystical phenomenon, and by others still – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a source of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of its source, what it stands for, and if it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.
As in the first series, the heroine's deeds, and her future, are revealed to be deeply linked with the future of the universe
In its predecessor, these plots ran largely in parallel. In the conclusion, they merge. Similar to the original series, Lyra's actions and her path are unveiled to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the world. Her individual mission to reconnect with her daemon and regain her vision becomes the primary conflict in a broader conflict with an authoritarian system which, as such authorities often attempt, is seeking to suppress autonomy of thought, originality and art: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The book starts with the discovery of a collection of curious fissures in the makeup of the world's atmosphere: gateways that seem to open into alternate realities. An example of a opening manifests to be the origin of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The authority, with its leader at its helm, classifies these portals as a problem to the church's orthodoxy and aims to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to move from rigid rationalism and back to feeling, however, her certainty that these locations must be defended – that their significance and their value is mysteriously essential – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a poetic tussle between naivety and maturity is established.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
