Things are unraveling in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, now more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from authorities, and gathering in the halls of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the control of mobs. "An element is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his place in an city cafe. "Things we thought were secure and durable are deteriorating and failing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that drives this final volume, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, reportedly, the author's last excursion into the elaborately built, deeply captivating universe he first revealed in the distant past, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose landscape maps on to that of this world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and think and act like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, essences in beast form; where the air are filled with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, buses are ridden and tea is consumed, and older scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still distinctly the sharp and persistent heroine of the earlier books, but more mature, sadder, more cautious, less certain. This restraint is heightened by her division from her daemon, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to go off in pursuit of that youthful part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an trait which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with marvel and peril on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in action, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the faith's controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of strict, procedural wickedness – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's relative, who faults her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the church's High Council, and is intent on using his recently acquired influence to broaden the institution's rule. A key character, who carried infant Lyra to safety along a overflowing river as an young boy in the first book, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is dispatched to Geneva to discover more about his intentions. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and valuable botanical extract which seems somehow to be the cause of a social and economic crisis emanating out from Central Asia. The oil is seen by various factions as a tradeable product, by different parties as a research-based or spiritual wonder, and by others still – the zealous "highland figures" – as a origin of darkness; an challenge that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its origins, its meaning, and whether it should be eliminated or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Similar to the original trilogy, the heroine's deeds, and her destiny, are revealed to be inextricably linked with the future of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in side by side. In this final book, they converge. Like the first trilogy, her choices and her destiny are revealed to be inseparably linked with the future of the realm. Her private quest to rejoin with her daemon and regain her vision becomes the central struggle in a larger battle with an controlling government which, as such regimes often attempt, is striving to suppress autonomy of reason, originality and art: all the personal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The book starts with the unveiling of a collection of unusual cracks in the makeup of the world's sky: gateways that look to lead to alternate realities. A particular window seems to be the origin of the much debated mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its leadership, labels these openings as a problem to the church's orthodoxy and sets out to destroy them. As Lyra begins to move from strict rationalism and back to feeling, nevertheless, her certainty that these sites must be defended – that what they stand for and what they offer is somehow essential – increases. "The substance, or the extract, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a Blakean tussle between innocence and experience is set.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
