Tings are falling apart in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's masterful trilogies set in a realm that appears, now more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or reassembling themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is draining from authorities, and gathering in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the control of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were secure and strong are weakening and giving way."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that propels this final volume, which picks up where the previous book left off. This is, by all accounts, the author's final excursion into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting world he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose geography corresponds to that of the real world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and think and behave like us, but are joined by daemons, souls in beast form; where the skies are teeming with enchantresses and gryphons, but underneath, buses are taken and beverages is sipped, and older academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still distinctly the prickly and determined main character of the prior volumes, but older, melancholic, more cautious, less certain. This restraint is intensified by her division from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to leave in quest of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an quality which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled Lyra undertake a adventurous journey across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with marvel and risk on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in play, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the church's controlling power, and the author's masterfully eerie embodiment of rigid, administrative wickedness – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. The antagonist – Lyra's relative, who faults her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of head of the authority's governing body, and is determined on using his fresh influence to extend the religion's dominium. A key character, who saved young Lyra to refuge along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in espionage: he is sent to a key location to learn more about his aims. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and costly essential oil which seems in some way to be the source of a societal and economic crisis spreading out from the region. The oil is seen by some as a marketable commodity, by others as a scientific or mystical wonder, and by others still – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an affront that must be destroyed. The question of its source, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the first series, our protagonist's decisions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be inseparably linked with the fate of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran largely in tandem. In this final book, they come together. As in the original series, the protagonist's movements and her path are revealed to be deeply woven with the fate of the realm. Her individual journey to reunite with her companion and recover her imagination becomes the central struggle in a wider conflict with an oppressive government which, as these systems typically do, is attempting to suppress independence of reason, creativity and culture: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The story opens with the unveiling of a series of curious openings in the fabric of the world's sky: portals that look to lead to different dimensions. One such portal manifests to be the origin of the much debated mystical extract. The authority, with the antagonist at its helm, labels these windows as a problem to the religion's doctrine and endeavors to destroy them. As Lyra begins to shift from rigid reason and revert to intuition, nevertheless, her belief that these places must be preserved – that what they stand for and their value is mysteriously essential – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a poetic conflict between naivety and knowledge is set.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
