Tings are falling apart in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's masterful trilogies set in a universe that seems, now more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from governments, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the grasp of crowds. "An element is at work, stealthily, gradually", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were firm and durable are faltering and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Just what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that propels the concluding book, which picks up where the previous book left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's last foray into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose landscape corresponds to that of our world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people appear and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, souls in animal form; where the air are filled with witches and mythical beasts, but underneath, vehicles are ridden and tea is drunk, and middle-aged scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a young woman: still recognisably the sharp and determined main character of the prior volumes, but older, more sorrowful, warier, less certain. This circumscription is heightened by her division from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to depart in pursuit of that childlike part of her which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and danger on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the religious controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of strict, procedural wickedness – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's family member, who blames her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of head of the church's governing body, and is determined on using his recently acquired power to broaden the church's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who saved baby Lyra to refuge along a swollen river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an academic with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to Geneva to discover more about his intentions. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and valuable essential oil which manifests in some way to be the origin of a societal and financial crisis rippling out from that area. The substance is seen by various factions as a tradeable good, by alternate groups as a research-based or esoteric wonder, and by others still – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a wellspring of evil; an affront that must be destroyed. The issue of its origins, its meaning, and whether it should be removed or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in the original trilogy, our protagonist's deeds, and her fate, are revealed to be inseparably connected with the fate of the universe
In the previous volume, these plots ran largely in parallel. In this final book, they merge. Like the original series, her choices and her fate are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the realm. Her individual journey to rejoin with her soul and regain her imagination becomes the central battleground in a wider battle with an oppressive system which, as such regimes always have, is seeking to quell autonomy of thinking, innovation and culture: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The novel starts with the unveiling of a collection of unusual openings in the structure of the planet's sky: portals that seem to lead to alternate realities. A particular window appears to be the origin of the highly contested botanical substance. The church, with Delamare at its leadership, classifies these portals as a threat to the religion's doctrine and sets out to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from inflexible reason and revert to intuition, however, her conviction that these locations must be preserved – that their meaning and what they provide is in some way essential – grows. "The substance, or the extract, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a poetic tussle between purity and knowledge is established.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
