Tings are falling apart in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's masterful trilogies set in a realm that appears, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from authorities, and pooling in the offices of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and strong are weakening and failing."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Precisely what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that animates this final volume, which picks up where the previous book ended. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final venture into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling world he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography maps on to that of our world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are paired by external spirits, souls in beast form; where the air are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but below, vehicles are caught and drinks is consumed, and mature scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the prequel, the introductory book with which the author began this trilogy, is now a adult: still distinctly the prickly and determined heroine of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, warier, more doubtful. This circumscription is amplified by her division from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to go off in quest of that youthful part of her which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in motion, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the faith's ruling body, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of rigid, procedural wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. The antagonist – our protagonist's uncle, who faults her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of leader of the church's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his fresh influence to broaden the institution's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who saved young the heroine to safety along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to Geneva to discover more about the antagonist's plans. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and precious rose oil which appears in some way to be the source of a societal and financial crisis spreading out from that area. The oil is seen by various factions as a marketable product, by alternate groups as a research-based or spiritual phenomenon, and by others still – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of darkness; an challenge that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its source, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
As in the original trilogy, Lyra's decisions, and her future, are revealed to be inseparably linked with the fate of the universe
In its predecessor, these plots ran broadly in parallel. In the conclusion, they come together. Like the original series, Lyra's choices and her destiny are shown to be inseparably linked with the fate of the universe. Her personal mission to reunite with her daemon and rediscover her creativity becomes the central battleground in a wider war with an oppressive government which, as such authorities always have, is seeking to quell freedom of reason, originality and expression: all the internal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The novel starts with the finding of a series of strange fissures in the makeup of the world's atmosphere: portals that seem to give on to other worlds. An example of a window manifests to be the source of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The Magisterium, with its leader at its head, designates these windows as a challenge to the religion's doctrine and aims to destroy them. As the heroine begins to shift from strict reason and revert to instinct, yet, her conviction that these places must be defended – that what they stand for and their value is in some way crucial – grows. "Dust, or the substance, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a Blakean tussle between innocence and knowledge is established.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
