Tings are unraveling in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a universe that manifests, now more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or restructuring themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from governments, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of business empires, the control of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and durable are deteriorating and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Exactly what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that animates the concluding book, which resumes where the previous book ended. This is, reportedly, Pullman's final excursion into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting universe he first revealed three decades past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose terrain corresponds to that of the real world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and think and behave like us, but are joined by daemons, essences in creature form; where the skies are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, transports are caught and tea is drunk, and older scholars carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a child in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still recognisably the spiky and tenacious main character of the prior volumes, but more mature, more sorrowful, more cautious, more doubtful. This limitation is intensified by her division from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to go off in quest of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an quality which he represents as her "imagination"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed Lyra undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with marvel and risk on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in motion, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister incarnation of austere, bureaucratic malice – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. The antagonist – Lyra's relative, who blames her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of head of the church's governing body, and is set on using his newfound influence to broaden the institution's rule. Another protagonist, who carried young the heroine to security along a overflowing Thames as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in espionage: he is dispatched to Geneva to find out more about Delamare's plans. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and precious rose oil which seems mysteriously to be the origin of a societal and economic disturbance emanating out from that area. The substance is regarded by various factions as a tradeable commodity, by others as a scientific or esoteric phenomenon, and by further factions – the extremist "highland figures" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an affront that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its origins, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in the original trilogy, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be deeply linked with the future of the world
In its predecessor, these plots ran largely in tandem. In this final book, they come together. Like the original series, her actions and her fate are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the future of the realm. Her private journey to reconnect with her soul and recover her imagination becomes the key battleground in a larger war with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes always have, is striving to suppress freedom of thought, originality and art: all the inner, defiant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The novel opens with the unveiling of a collection of unusual cracks in the structure of the world's atmosphere: portals that seem to lead to different dimensions. One such window manifests to be the point of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The church, with the antagonist at its helm, labels these openings as a challenge to the religion's beliefs and endeavors to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict rationalism and revert to instinct, yet, her conviction that these sites must be protected – that their significance and their value is somehow vital – strengthens. "The substance, or the extract, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a philosophical conflict between purity and maturity is established.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the