Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that manifests, now more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along novel and troubling lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from authorities, and gathering in the halls of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the control of crowds. "Something is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and solid are weakening and failing."
Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that animates the concluding book, which resumes where its predecessor ended. This is, by all accounts, the author's concluding excursion into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling universe he first revealed in the distant past, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose landscape aligns with that of our world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people appear and think and act like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, beings in animal form; where the heavens are filled with enchantresses and gryphons, but below, transports are ridden and drinks is consumed, and middle-aged professors carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still clearly the prickly and tenacious main character of the prior volumes, but older, sadder, more careful, less sure. This limitation is heightened by her split from her daemon, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to go off in pursuit of that innocent part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and danger on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in play, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the church's governing authority, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of strict, procedural wickedness – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's family member, who holds responsible her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the position of president of the Magisterium's High Council, and is intent on using his fresh power to expand the church's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who saved infant the heroine to refuge along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to Geneva to discover more about Delamare's intentions. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and valuable botanical extract which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a social and financial crisis emanating out from that area. The substance is viewed by various factions as a tradeable commodity, by others as a empirical or spiritual miracle, and by others still – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a origin of darkness; an affront that must be eradicated. The question of its source, its significance, and whether it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.
Similar to the original trilogy, our protagonist's decisions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be deeply entwined with the fate of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran mostly in side by side. In the conclusion, they come together. Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's choices and her path are shown to be inseparably woven with the future of the universe. Her personal journey to rejoin with her soul and rediscover her vision becomes the primary battleground in a wider battle with an controlling government which, as such authorities always have, is seeking to suppress freedom of thought, creativity and expression: all the internal, defiant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The novel opens with the discovery of a collection of curious cracks in the makeup of the planet's sky: portals that appear to lead to alternate realities. One such portal appears to be the point of the highly contested botanical substance. The authority, with its leader at its head, designates these windows as a challenge to the religion's orthodoxy and sets out to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from strict logic and revert to intuition, yet, her belief that these sites must be defended – that their significance and what they provide is mysteriously vital – grows. "The substance, or the substance, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a poetic tussle between purity and maturity is established.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
