Tings are falling apart in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a world that manifests, now more than ever, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or restructuring themselves along new and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from states, and gathering in the halls of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says businessman a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and durable are faltering and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Just what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that drives this final volume, which continues where the previous book left off. This is, by all accounts, the author's last excursion into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating world he first introduced three decades past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a world whose terrain corresponds to that of our world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and think and behave like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, souls in creature form; where the air are teeming with sorceresses and gryphons, but below, transports are ridden and tea is consumed, and older professors carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a child in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which the author began the series, is now a adult: still recognisably the prickly and determined protagonist of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, more cautious, less sure. This restraint is amplified by her split from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to leave in pursuit of that innocent part of her which she seems to have lost (an quality which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and risk on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the religious controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of austere, administrative malice – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's relative, who holds responsible her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the position of president of the Magisterium's governing body, and is set on using his fresh influence to expand the church's dominium. A key character, who carried infant the heroine to security along a flooded Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an academic with a sideline in espionage: he is assigned to a key location to find out more about his intentions. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and costly essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a societal and economic crisis spreading out from the region. The substance is regarded by various factions as a tradeable good, by alternate groups as a scientific or mystical miracle, and by further factions – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of evil; an affront that must be eradicated. The issue of its origins, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
Like the first series, Lyra's decisions, and her destiny, are revealed to be deeply entwined with the fate of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran largely in side by side. In this final book, they merge. As in His Dark Materials, the protagonist's movements and her path are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the universe. Her individual quest to reconnect with her daemon and recover her imagination becomes the central battleground in a wider conflict with an controlling regime which, as such regimes typically do, is attempting to suppress independence of thinking, innovation and expression: all the internal, defiant ways in which people can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The book opens with the discovery of a series of curious openings in the makeup of the world's sky: gateways that appear to open into other worlds. One such window appears to be the origin of the much debated rose oil. The authority, with Delamare at its leadership, classifies these openings as a problem to the institution's doctrine and sets out to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from strict reason and back to intuition, nevertheless, her certainty that these places must be defended – that their meaning and their value is mysteriously essential – grows. "The substance, or the substance, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a philosophical tussle between purity and experience is prepared.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
