Things are falling apart in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, in this volume especially, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along new and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from governments, and pooling in the offices of theocrats, the treasuries of corporations, the hands of crowds. "An element is at work, very quietly, gradually", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and strong are faltering and giving way."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that drives the concluding book, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, according to many, the author's last excursion into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting world he first introduced three decades past, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose landscape corresponds to that of this world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are joined by external spirits, essences in animal form; where the air are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, transports are ridden and beverages is drunk, and older scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a child in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the introductory book with which the author began the series, is now a adult: still recognisably the spiky and tenacious protagonist of the previous installments, but aged, melancholic, more careful, less sure. This circumscription is intensified by her split from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to go off in pursuit of that childlike part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an quality which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which followed the protagonist undertake a adventurous voyage across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and peril on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the religious controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling embodiment of rigid, procedural evil – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's uncle, who blames her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the church's High Council, and is set on using his newfound influence to expand the religion's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who carried young Lyra to security along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is dispatched to the city to discover more about Delamare's intentions. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and valuable essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the source of a social and financial crisis emanating out from the region. The extract is viewed by various factions as a commercial product, by others as a research-based or spiritual miracle, and by yet others – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a origin of evil; an insult that must be destroyed. The issue of its origins, its significance, and whether it should be destroyed or protected is becoming urgent.
As in the original trilogy, Lyra's deeds, and her destiny, are shown to be inextricably linked with the destiny of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran broadly in side by side. In the conclusion, they converge. Like the first trilogy, her actions and her fate are revealed to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the universe. Her individual journey to reconnect with her daemon and rediscover her imagination becomes the central conflict in a broader battle with an oppressive regime which, as these systems often attempt, is attempting to stifle autonomy of reason, innovation and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which humans can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The story starts with the unveiling of a collection of unusual openings in the fabric of the planet's atmosphere: windows that look to open into alternate realities. One such opening appears to be the origin of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The church, with its leader at its head, designates these portals as a challenge to the religion's beliefs and aims to destroy them. As the heroine begins to move from inflexible reason and revert to feeling, yet, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that their meaning and what they provide is somehow essential – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we label it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a Blakean tussle between purity and experience is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
