Tings are falling apart in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a realm that appears, now more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or restructuring themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from authorities, and gathering in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the hands of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and durable are faltering and failing."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that propels the concluding book, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, reportedly, the author's last foray into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting realm he first revealed 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose landscape maps on to that of our world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and think and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, beings in beast form; where the skies are filled with witches and mythical beasts, but below, buses are taken and tea is consumed, and mature scholars carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still clearly the prickly and persistent main character of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, more careful, less sure. This restraint is amplified by her separation from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to depart in quest of that innocent part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an trait which he represents as her "creativity"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a adventurous journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with amazement and risk on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in play, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the faith's ruling body, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister embodiment of austere, administrative wickedness – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. The antagonist – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the position of president of the authority's High Council, and is intent on using his newfound power to expand the institution's dominium. Another protagonist, who rescued baby the heroine to security along a overflowing river as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is sent to Geneva to find out more about Delamare's aims. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and costly essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the cause of a social and financial crisis rippling out from the region. The substance is seen by some as a tradeable good, by others as a empirical or spiritual wonder, and by others still – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a wellspring of darkness; an insult that must be obliterated. The question of where it comes from, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
Like the first series, the heroine's deeds, and her destiny, are revealed to be deeply linked with the fate of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran mostly in tandem. In this final book, they merge. Similar to the original series, Lyra's choices and her path are revealed to be inseparably woven with the fate of the realm. Her personal mission to rejoin with her companion and regain her vision becomes the primary conflict in a larger war with an oppressive regime which, as these systems often attempt, is striving to suppress autonomy of reason, originality and expression: all the internal, rebellious ways in which humans can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The novel begins with the finding of a collection of strange cracks in the makeup of the world's sky: windows that seem to give on to different dimensions. One such portal seems to be the origin of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The church, with Delamare at its leadership, labels these windows as a challenge to the church's beliefs and aims to destroy them. As Lyra begins to shift from rigid rationalism and return to instinct, nevertheless, her conviction that these locations must be defended – that their meaning and what they offer is somehow crucial – increases. "The substance, or the extract, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a poetic struggle between purity and maturity is prepared.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
