Tings are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that appears, in this volume especially, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from states, and pooling in the offices of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the control of mobs. "An element is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Things we thought were secure and strong are faltering and failing."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Exactly what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that propels the concluding book, which continues where the previous book concluded. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's last foray into the carefully crafted, infinitely beguiling universe he first introduced 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 history tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and reason and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, souls in beast form; where the skies are populated with witches and mythical beasts, but underneath, transports are ridden and drinks is sipped, and mature scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the first volume, the origin story with which the author began this trilogy, is now a adult: still clearly the spiky and determined heroine of the prior volumes, but more mature, more sorrowful, more careful, less sure. This limitation is intensified by her separation from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to go off in search of that youthful part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an trait which he represents as her "vision"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which followed the protagonist undertake a wandering trek across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with amazement and danger on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the faith's governing authority, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of austere, bureaucratic evil – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's relative, who blames her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the office of leader of the authority's governing body, and is determined on using his recently acquired influence to expand the church's dominium. Another protagonist, who saved baby Lyra to security along a flooded river as an young boy in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in spycraft: he is assigned to the city to discover more about his intentions. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and costly rose oil which seems mysteriously to be the cause of a societal and financial upheaval spreading out from the region. The oil is viewed by certain groups as a tradeable product, by alternate groups as a scientific or esoteric miracle, and by others still – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a source of darkness; an insult that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its source, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or protected is escalating in importance.
Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's deeds, and her future, are demonstrated to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran mostly in tandem. In this final book, they converge. Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's choices and her destiny are shown to be inseparably entwined with the future of the universe. Her private journey to reconnect with her daemon and recover her imagination becomes the key struggle in a wider battle with an controlling system which, as these systems typically do, is striving to quell freedom of thinking, creativity and expression: all the personal, resistant ways in which individuals can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The book starts with the discovery of a collection of curious openings in the makeup of the Earth's atmosphere: gateways that seem to open into alternate realities. An example of a window seems to be the origin of the much debated mystical extract. The authority, with its leader at its head, classifies these windows as a threat to the church's doctrine and endeavors to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to shift from inflexible rationalism and back to instinct, yet, her belief that these locations must be protected – that their significance and what they provide is mysteriously crucial – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a poetic tussle between innocence and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
