Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that appears, now more than ever, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along new and troubling lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from states, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, silently, very subtly", says merchant a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and durable are deteriorating and failing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Precisely what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that drives this final volume, which resumes where the previous book concluded. This is, reportedly, Pullman's final excursion into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating realm he first unveiled in the distant past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography aligns with that of the real world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are joined by daemons, essences in beast form; where the skies are populated with sorceresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, transports are taken and tea is consumed, and older academics carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the origin story with which the author began the series, is now a adult: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious main character of the previous installments, but older, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This circumscription is intensified by her split from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to depart in pursuit of that youthful part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with amazement and peril on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in action, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the religious ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of rigid, bureaucratic malice – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's uncle, who blames her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of leader of the Magisterium's High Council, and is determined on using his recently acquired influence to extend the institution's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who carried young the heroine to safety along a swollen river as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a sideline in spycraft: he is dispatched to Geneva to discover more about his plans. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and valuable botanical extract which seems in some way to be the cause of a societal and economic crisis spreading out from Central Asia. The substance is seen by some as a commercial commodity, by different parties as a scientific or mystical miracle, and by further factions – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a origin of evil; an affront that must be destroyed. The question of its source, what it stands for, and whether it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.
Similar to the original trilogy, Lyra's decisions, and her future, are revealed to be deeply linked with the destiny of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran broadly in tandem. In this final book, they converge. As in the original series, her choices and her path are revealed to be inextricably linked with the future of the realm. Her private journey to reunite with her soul and rediscover her vision becomes the central battleground in a wider conflict with an authoritarian system which, as such regimes often attempt, is seeking to suppress autonomy of reason, innovation and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which people can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The book starts with the discovery of a series of strange fissures in the makeup of the world's air: gateways that appear to lead to other worlds. A particular portal appears to be the point of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The church, with the antagonist at its helm, classifies these portals as a problem to the church's orthodoxy and endeavors to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to move from inflexible rationalism and return to instinct, yet, her certainty that these places must be defended – that their significance and what they provide is in some way essential – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a poetic struggle between purity and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
