Things are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that manifests, in this volume especially, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is draining from states, and pooling in the halls of theocrats, the treasuries of corporations, the control of mobs. "Something is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were firm and solid are deteriorating and giving way."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that propels the concluding book, which picks up where its predecessor concluded. This is, reportedly, Pullman's final excursion into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting world he first revealed three decades past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose terrain aligns with that of this world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the individuals appear and think and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, beings in beast form; where the heavens are teeming with witches and gryphons, but below, transports are taken and drinks is sipped, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious heroine of the previous installments, but older, more sorrowful, more cautious, less sure. This restraint is amplified by her separation from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to go off in quest of that childlike part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a adventurous voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and danger on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious controlling power, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of strict, administrative wickedness – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's relative, who faults her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the role of president of the Magisterium's governing body, and is determined on using his newfound influence to expand the religion's control. Malcolm Polstead, who carried baby the heroine to safety along a swollen river as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in spycraft: he is dispatched to the city to learn more about his intentions. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and costly essential oil which seems mysteriously to be the cause of a societal and financial disturbance spreading out from the region. The extract is viewed by certain groups as a tradeable product, by different parties as a research-based or mystical phenomenon, and by yet others – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an challenge that must be eradicated. The issue of where it comes from, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Like the first series, our protagonist's actions, and her future, are shown to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran largely in side by side. In the conclusion, they come together. As in the first trilogy, her actions and her destiny are unveiled to be deeply woven with the future of the world. Her personal journey to rejoin with her companion and recover her vision becomes the key struggle in a larger conflict with an authoritarian system which, as such authorities often attempt, is attempting to suppress independence of thought, innovation and art: all the internal, rebellious ways in which people can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The book begins with the finding of a series of curious openings in the makeup of the planet's atmosphere: portals that seem to lead to alternate realities. A particular opening manifests to be the origin of the much debated botanical substance. The church, with its leader at its head, designates these openings as a challenge to the institution's doctrine and sets out to destroy them. As the heroine begins to shift from rigid rationalism and revert to feeling, however, her certainty that these places must be defended – that what they stand for and their value is in some way crucial – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a philosophical tussle between naivety and knowledge is set.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
