Tings are falling apart in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that manifests, now more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from states, and gathering in the halls of theocrats, the coffers of corporations, the hands of rioters. "An element is at work, stealthily, gradually", says businessman a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an city cafe. "Things we thought were stable and strong are deteriorating and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that drives the concluding book, which resumes where its predecessor ended. This is, reportedly, Pullman's last foray into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling world he first unveiled three decades past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose geography corresponds to that of the real world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are accompanied by daemons, beings in creature form; where the air are populated with enchantresses and gryphons, but underneath, transports are ridden and beverages is drunk, and middle-aged scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which the author began the series, is now a adult: still recognisably the spiky and determined heroine of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, more careful, less certain. This circumscription is heightened by her separation from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to depart in quest of that innocent part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an quality which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which followed Lyra undertake a adventurous journey across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with amazement and peril on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in play, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the religious controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling embodiment of strict, bureaucratic wickedness – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's family member, who faults her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the position of leader of the church's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his fresh influence to extend the church's rule. A key character, who carried infant Lyra to safety along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in espionage: he is sent to the city to find out more about his aims. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and valuable botanical extract which seems somehow to be the source of a social and financial crisis rippling out from Central Asia. The substance is regarded by certain groups as a marketable commodity, by alternate groups as a empirical or esoteric miracle, and by others still – the extremist "highland figures" – as a source of evil; an challenge that must be obliterated. The issue of where it comes from, what it stands for, and whether it should be removed or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
As in the first series, our protagonist's deeds, and her destiny, are shown to be inextricably entwined with the future of the universe
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in parallel. In this final book, they come together. As in the first trilogy, Lyra's actions and her destiny are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the future of the universe. Her private quest to reconnect with her soul and recover her creativity becomes the central conflict in a wider battle with an oppressive system which, as such regimes often attempt, is seeking to suppress freedom of reason, originality and culture: all the personal, resistant ways in which individuals can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The story starts with the discovery of a collection of unusual openings in the structure of the Earth's atmosphere: gateways that appear to lead to different dimensions. A particular portal seems to be the point of the much debated mystical extract. The authority, with Delamare at its helm, designates these windows as a problem to the institution's doctrine and endeavors to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to shift from rigid logic and return to instinct, however, her conviction that these sites must be protected – that their meaning and what they provide is in some way vital – strengthens. "The substance, or the substance, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a Blakean struggle between purity and experience is prepared.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
