Things are collapsing in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that seems, now more than ever, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along new and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is draining from states, and pooling in the offices of religious leaders, the coffers of business empires, the control of mobs. "Something is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and solid are deteriorating and failing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Precisely what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels the concluding book, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, according to many, the author's concluding foray into the elaborately built, deeply captivating world he first revealed 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a world whose geography corresponds to that of the real world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, beings in beast form; where the heavens are filled with witches and legendary creatures, but below, transports are ridden and drinks is sipped, and older professors carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the prequel, the introductory book with which the author began this trilogy, is now a adult: still distinctly the prickly and tenacious main character of the prior volumes, but aged, melancholic, more cautious, less sure. This restraint is heightened by her separation from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to go off in search of that innocent part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an quality which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw the protagonist undertake a wandering trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with marvel and risk on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of strict, procedural malice – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's relative, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the role of head of the church's governing body, and is set on using his fresh power to broaden the religion's rule. Another protagonist, who carried baby the heroine to refuge along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to the city to find out more about the antagonist's aims. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and costly rose oil which appears in some way to be the cause of a societal and economic upheaval spreading out from Central Asia. The oil is seen by certain groups as a marketable commodity, by others as a empirical or spiritual wonder, and by further factions – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a source of darkness; an challenge that must be obliterated. The issue of where it comes from, its significance, and if it should be removed or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like the original trilogy, Lyra's deeds, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran mostly in side by side. In the conclusion, they converge. Like the first trilogy, the protagonist's actions and her path are unveiled to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the world. Her private quest to reunite with her soul and regain her vision becomes the central struggle in a broader battle with an controlling government which, as these systems always have, is attempting to suppress autonomy of reason, originality and culture: all the inner, resistant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The novel begins with the unveiling of a collection of curious cracks in the makeup of the Earth's sky: portals that appear to give on to different dimensions. One such window appears to be the point of the highly contested rose oil. The church, with its leader at its leadership, labels these portals as a challenge to the church's beliefs and aims to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict reason and revert to intuition, yet, her certainty that these places must be defended – that what they stand for and their value is somehow crucial – strengthens. "The substance, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or whatever we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a poetic tussle between purity and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
