The Rose Field: Pullman's Thrilling Finale to the Northern Lights Saga

Things are unraveling in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that appears, in this volume especially, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is draining from authorities, and pooling in the halls of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the hands of rioters. "Something is at work, silently, gradually", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his seat in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and durable are faltering and failing."

Core Enigma and Her Quest

Exactly what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that propels the concluding book, which continues where its predecessor left off. This is, according to many, the author's final excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting world he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a world whose geography aligns with that of this world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and think and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, essences in beast form; where the air are teeming with sorceresses and gryphons, but underneath, transports are caught and tea is drunk, and older academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a child in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a adult: still recognisably the spiky and determined main character of the prior volumes, but aged, more sorrowful, more careful, more doubtful. This restraint is amplified by her separation from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.

Interwoven Plots

Pan's decision to go off in pursuit of that innocent part of her which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he represents as her "creativity"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which followed Lyra undertake a picaresque trek across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with amazement and risk on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the faith's ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, administrative wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's family member, who faults her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the office of leader of the authority's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his recently acquired influence to extend the institution's control. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued baby Lyra to safety along a swollen river as an young boy in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to a key location to discover more about his aims. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious essential oil which appears in some way to be the source of a social and economic disturbance emanating out from Central Asia. The extract is regarded by some as a commercial product, by others as a scientific or esoteric phenomenon, and by yet others – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a source of darkness; an affront that must be destroyed. The issue of its origins, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.

Similar to the first series, Lyra's actions, and her destiny, are revealed to be inseparably linked with the future of the world

In the previous volume, these storylines ran broadly in side by side. In this final book, they come together. As in the original series, her actions and her fate are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the universe. Her individual quest to reunite with her companion and rediscover her creativity becomes the primary struggle in a larger battle with an oppressive system which, as such authorities typically do, is seeking to suppress independence of thought, innovation and art: all the inner, resistant ways in which people can be independent.

Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles

The novel opens with the unveiling of a set of curious fissures in the makeup of the Earth's atmosphere: windows that seem to give on to other worlds. A particular opening manifests to be the point of the much debated mystical extract. The church, with the antagonist at its helm, classifies these windows as a challenge to the church's beliefs and sets out to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to move from strict rationalism and back to feeling, however, her certainty that these locations must be preserved – that their significance and their value is in some way essential – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a poetic tussle between purity and maturity is set.

Story Tempo and Character Development

At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the

Colleen Sanchez
Colleen Sanchez

Eleanor Vance is a seasoned financial analyst with over a decade of experience in precious metals markets.