Things are unraveling in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that manifests, in this volume especially, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or restructuring themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from governments, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of business empires, the control of rioters. "An element is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and strong are deteriorating and failing."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that animates the concluding book, which picks up where the previous book left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding foray into the elaborately built, deeply captivating realm he first introduced three decades past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose geography maps on to that of our world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, beings in creature form; where the air are populated with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, vehicles are caught and beverages is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the prequel, the origin story with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious main character of the prior volumes, but aged, melancholic, warier, less certain. This limitation is heightened by her separation from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to depart in quest of that innocent part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he represents as her "creativity"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a adventurous journey across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in motion, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the faith's controlling power, and the author's deliciously chilling representation of rigid, administrative evil – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's family member, who faults her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the office of president of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is set on using his recently acquired power to broaden the religion's rule. A key character, who rescued baby the heroine to security along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is sent to a key location to learn more about his aims. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and precious botanical extract which seems mysteriously to be the origin of a societal and financial disturbance spreading out from Central Asia. The substance is seen by some as a commercial commodity, by others as a scientific or spiritual miracle, and by yet others – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of evil; an insult that must be destroyed. The dilemma of where it comes from, its meaning, and whether it should be eliminated or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Similar to the original trilogy, Lyra's deeds, and her future, are shown to be deeply connected with the future of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran broadly in tandem. In the conclusion, they converge. Similar to the original series, the protagonist's actions and her destiny are unveiled to be inextricably linked with the future of the world. Her private mission to reunite with her companion and recover her creativity becomes the central struggle in a larger battle with an oppressive government which, as such regimes always have, is seeking to quell freedom of thinking, creativity and expression: all the inner, resistant ways in which humans can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The novel starts with the unveiling of a collection of strange cracks in the structure of the world's atmosphere: windows that seem to give on to other worlds. An example of a portal manifests to be the origin of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its leadership, classifies these windows as a problem to the religion's orthodoxy and endeavors to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to move from strict reason and return to intuition, however, her conviction that these sites must be preserved – that their meaning and what they provide is mysteriously vital – increases. "The substance, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a poetic tussle between innocence and knowledge is established.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
