Tings are collapsing in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a universe that seems, in this volume especially, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from governments, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of conglomerates, the control of rioters. "An element is at work, silently, gradually", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and strong are faltering and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Just what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that drives this final volume, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, reportedly, the author's last excursion into the elaborately built, deeply captivating universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography corresponds to that of this world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans look and reason and behave like us, but are paired by external spirits, essences in animal form; where the skies are populated with witches and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, buses are caught and drinks is drunk, and mature professors carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in the first volume, the introductory book with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still clearly the sharp and determined main character of the prior volumes, but older, sadder, more careful, less sure. This restraint is intensified by her split from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to go off in quest of that innocent part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which followed Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with wonder and danger on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of rigid, administrative wickedness – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's uncle, who blames her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the office of head of the Magisterium's High Council, and is intent on using his newfound influence to expand the church's control. A key character, who carried infant the heroine to refuge along a swollen Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an academic with a additional duty in spycraft: he is dispatched to Geneva to discover more about Delamare's plans. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and precious essential oil which seems in some way to be the cause of a social and economic crisis spreading out from Central Asia. The substance is seen by some as a tradeable product, by alternate groups as a empirical or mystical phenomenon, and by others still – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of darkness; an challenge that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its origins, its significance, and if it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.
As in the first series, Lyra's deeds, and her fate, are demonstrated to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran largely in parallel. In this final book, they converge. Like the first trilogy, her movements and her path are unveiled to be inextricably linked with the future of the world. Her private quest to rejoin with her companion and recover her imagination becomes the primary struggle in a broader battle with an controlling system which, as such regimes always have, is seeking to quell autonomy of thinking, originality and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The novel starts with the finding of a series of unusual openings in the fabric of the planet's atmosphere: gateways that appear to give on to different dimensions. An example of a opening manifests to be the point of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its leadership, labels these openings as a challenge to the church's beliefs and endeavors to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to shift from rigid reason and revert to feeling, yet, her certainty that these locations must be defended – that what they stand for and what they provide is in some way essential – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a philosophical struggle between purity and knowledge is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
