Things are unraveling in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that manifests, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Establishments are failing, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is draining from governments, and pooling in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of conglomerates, the control of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and durable are weakening and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Precisely what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that animates this final volume, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, reportedly, Pullman's concluding foray into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling world he first introduced 30 years ago, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose landscape aligns with that of the real world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the people appear and reason and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, essences in beast form; where the air are teeming with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, buses are caught and tea is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still distinctly the prickly and persistent protagonist of the previous installments, but aged, more sorrowful, warier, less certain. This restraint is heightened by her separation from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to go off in pursuit of that childlike part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he represents as her "imagination"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque journey across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and risk on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of strict, administrative evil – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's relative, who faults her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the office of president of the authority's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his recently acquired power to expand the religion's dominium. A key character, who carried baby the heroine to refuge along a swollen Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in spycraft: he is assigned to Geneva to learn more about the antagonist's plans. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and costly essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the source of a social and financial crisis spreading out from the region. The extract is regarded by some as a marketable commodity, by alternate groups as a research-based or mystical miracle, and by yet others – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of evil; an affront that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its source, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or preserved is escalating in importance.
As in the first series, the heroine's decisions, and her future, are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran largely in tandem. In this final book, they come together. Like His Dark Materials, her actions and her fate are shown to be inseparably woven with the destiny of the universe. Her personal quest to reunite with her daemon and regain her imagination becomes the central battleground in a larger battle with an controlling regime which, as such authorities typically do, is striving to quell autonomy of thinking, creativity and art: all the inner, resistant ways in which people can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The novel starts with the unveiling of a collection of curious cracks in the makeup of the planet's atmosphere: windows that look to give on to alternate realities. One such window appears to be the origin of the highly contested mystical extract. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its leadership, classifies these windows as a threat to the religion's beliefs and endeavors to destroy them. As the heroine begins to turn away from strict reason and revert to intuition, nevertheless, her belief that these places must be defended – that their significance and what they provide is somehow essential – strengthens. "The substance, or the extract, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a philosophical conflict between innocence and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
