Things are unraveling in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's masterful trilogies set in a universe that manifests, in this volume especially, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Organizations are failing, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is draining from governments, and gathering in the offices of religious leaders, the treasuries of conglomerates, the control of crowds. "Some force is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and durable are deteriorating and failing."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Just what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that propels the concluding book, which continues where the previous book left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final foray into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating universe he first introduced 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose landscape aligns with that of our world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are paired by daemons, souls in creature form; where the skies are populated with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, vehicles are taken and beverages is consumed, and middle-aged scholars carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a young woman: still distinctly the prickly and persistent protagonist of the earlier books, but aged, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This restraint is amplified by her separation from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to go off in search of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an quality which he represents as her "vision"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and risk on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in play, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the faith's ruling body, and Pullman's masterfully eerie incarnation of rigid, administrative wickedness – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's family member, who blames her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the position of president of the authority's ruling assembly, and is set on using his recently acquired authority to extend the religion's control. A key character, who saved young Lyra to refuge along a flooded river as an young boy in the prequel, is now an academic with a additional duty in espionage: he is dispatched to Geneva to find out more about his plans. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and costly rose oil which appears somehow to be the cause of a social and financial crisis emanating out from that area. The oil is viewed by certain groups as a commercial good, by different parties as a scientific or spiritual miracle, and by others still – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of darkness; an challenge that must be obliterated. The dilemma of its origins, its meaning, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is becoming urgent.
Similar to the original trilogy, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are revealed to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the world
In the previous volume, these plots ran largely in side by side. In the conclusion, they merge. Similar to the first trilogy, the protagonist's movements and her fate are unveiled to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the universe. Her individual mission to reconnect with her daemon and rediscover her creativity becomes the central struggle in a broader war with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes often attempt, is striving to stifle autonomy of thought, innovation and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which people can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The story opens with the unveiling of a collection of curious openings in the makeup of the world's sky: gateways that appear to give on to other worlds. One such opening appears to be the source of the much debated botanical substance. The authority, with its leader at its leadership, designates these portals as a challenge to the religion's orthodoxy and endeavors to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from rigid reason and revert to feeling, however, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that their meaning and their value is mysteriously crucial – increases. "The substance, or the extract, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a poetic struggle between purity and knowledge is set.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
