Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a universe that manifests, in this volume especially, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Organizations are failing, or reassembling themselves along new and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from authorities, and gathering in the offices of religious leaders, the treasuries of conglomerates, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, very quietly, gradually", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were secure and durable are faltering and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that animates the concluding book, which resumes where its predecessor ended. This is, reportedly, the author's final foray into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling world he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose terrain corresponds to that of this world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and think and act like us, but are joined by external spirits, souls in creature form; where the air are populated with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but below, transports are ridden and drinks is sipped, and mature scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a adult: still clearly the prickly and determined main character of the earlier books, but aged, more sorrowful, more careful, less certain. This limitation is intensified by her separation from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to depart in quest of that innocent part of her which she seems to have lost (an trait which he represents as her "creativity"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with amazement and danger on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in action, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister representation of strict, procedural malice – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's uncle, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the position of leader of the church's ruling assembly, and is set on using his recently acquired power to broaden the institution's dominium. Another protagonist, who rescued young the heroine to safety along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is assigned to Geneva to find out more about his intentions. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and valuable botanical extract which appears in some way to be the origin of a societal and economic disturbance spreading out from that area. The substance is seen by various factions as a marketable good, by different parties as a research-based or spiritual miracle, and by yet others – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a source of evil; an insult that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its source, what it stands for, and if it should be destroyed or preserved is escalating in importance.
As in the first series, Lyra's actions, and her destiny, are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the universe
In the previous volume, these plots ran largely in side by side. In the conclusion, they merge. Similar to the first trilogy, Lyra's actions and her destiny are revealed to be deeply linked with the fate of the world. Her personal quest to rejoin with her daemon and rediscover her imagination becomes the central conflict in a broader battle with an controlling government which, as such authorities typically do, is attempting to suppress freedom of reason, creativity and culture: all the inner, defiant ways in which people can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The story starts with the unveiling of a set of strange cracks in the fabric of the planet's sky: gateways that look to lead to alternate realities. A particular window seems to be the point of the highly contested botanical substance. The church, with Delamare at its leadership, designates these portals as a challenge to the institution's orthodoxy and sets out to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to shift from inflexible logic and revert to instinct, yet, her certainty that these locations must be defended – that what they stand for and what they provide is somehow crucial – grows. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a Blakean struggle between innocence and maturity is set.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
