Tings are unraveling in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that seems, here more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from states, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the control of mobs. "Something is at work, very quietly, gradually", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and durable are deteriorating and giving way."
Exactly what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that animates this final volume, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, reportedly, Pullman's concluding venture into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling realm he first unveiled three decades past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a world whose landscape aligns with that of our world, but whose history veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, essences in beast form; where the heavens are teeming with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, vehicles are taken and beverages is sipped, and older academics carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which the author began the series, is now a young woman: still recognisably the sharp and determined main character of the previous installments, but aged, sadder, warier, less certain. This restraint is heightened by her division from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Pan's decision to leave in quest of that innocent part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an quality which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed Lyra undertake a wandering trek across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with marvel and risk on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in play, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the religious governing authority, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of austere, procedural malice – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's uncle, who blames her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the position of president of the Magisterium's governing body, and is set on using his recently acquired influence to expand the religion's rule. Another protagonist, who rescued baby Lyra to safety along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is assigned to Geneva to find out more about the antagonist's intentions. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and costly essential oil which manifests in some way to be the origin of a societal and economic crisis spreading out from that area. The extract is viewed by certain groups as a tradeable good, by different parties as a research-based or spiritual miracle, and by others still – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a source of darkness; an challenge that must be obliterated. The question of where it comes from, its significance, and if it should be eliminated or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in His Dark Materials, the heroine's actions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be inextricably connected with the future of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran broadly in parallel. In this final book, they converge. Similar to His Dark Materials, the protagonist's actions and her destiny are shown to be deeply linked with the destiny of the world. Her individual journey to reunite with her soul and rediscover her imagination becomes the central battleground in a broader war with an controlling system which, as such regimes often attempt, is striving to quell independence of thought, originality and culture: all the internal, rebellious ways in which humans can be liberated.
The story opens with the discovery of a series of unusual openings in the makeup of the Earth's air: portals that seem to give on to other worlds. One such portal manifests to be the source of the much debated botanical substance. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its head, classifies these portals as a problem to the church's beliefs and aims to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from rigid rationalism and revert to intuition, nevertheless, her certainty that these locations must be defended – that their meaning and their value is in some way vital – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a philosophical tussle between naivety and maturity is set.
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
Elara Vance is a tech journalist with over a decade of experience covering AI, cybersecurity, and emerging technologies across Europe.