🔗 Share this article Rose Field Chronicles: Philip Pullman's Thrilling Conclusion to the His Dark Materials Trilogy Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that appears, here more than ever, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from states, and accumulating in the offices of religious leaders, the vaults of business empires, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and solid are deteriorating and collapsing." Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey Precisely what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where the previous book left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final venture into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting world he first introduced 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose landscape corresponds to that of the real world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans look and reason and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, essences in beast form; where the air are filled with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, transports are taken and drinks is sipped, and older academics carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a child in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still distinctly the spiky and tenacious heroine of the previous installments, but more mature, melancholic, warier, more doubtful. This restraint is intensified by her separation from her daemon, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place. Interwoven Plots Pan's decision to leave in quest of that youthful part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an trait which he represents as her "imagination"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a wandering trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with marvel and danger on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of strict, administrative evil – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. The antagonist – our protagonist's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of leader of the authority's High Council, and is intent on using his fresh power to extend the institution's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who saved baby the heroine to safety along a swollen Thames as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in espionage: he is assigned to a key location to find out more about the antagonist's plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and valuable botanical extract which seems mysteriously to be the cause of a societal and economic crisis rippling out from the region. The oil is seen by some as a tradeable commodity, by others as a empirical or mystical phenomenon, and by others still – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a origin of malevolence; an affront that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its origins, its meaning, and whether it should be destroyed or preserved is becoming urgent. As in the first series, Lyra's actions, and her destiny, are shown to be inextricably linked with the destiny of the universe In the previous volume, these plots ran mostly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they converge. Similar to the first trilogy, Lyra's actions and her path are unveiled to be inextricably entwined with the future of the realm. Her private mission to reunite with her soul and rediscover her creativity becomes the key battleground in a larger conflict with an oppressive government which, as such regimes often attempt, is attempting to stifle independence of thought, creativity and art: all the personal, resistant ways in which people can be independent. Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles The book starts with the unveiling of a series of strange cracks in the makeup of the world's air: windows that appear to lead to alternate realities. One such opening seems to be the source of the much debated botanical substance. The authority, with its leader at its head, classifies these windows as a threat to the church's orthodoxy and sets out to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from strict reason and return to intuition, however, her conviction that these places must be defended – that their significance and what they offer is mysteriously essential – increases. "Dust, or the substance, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or whatever we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a philosophical struggle between innocence and experience is established. Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the