Things are collapsing in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the next of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from authorities, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, silently, gradually", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and solid are faltering and giving way."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where its predecessor left off. This is, reportedly, the author's last excursion into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting realm he first revealed in the distant past, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose geography aligns with that of our world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the people appear and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, essences in beast form; where the heavens are filled with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, vehicles are taken and tea is sipped, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the first volume, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a young woman: still recognisably the prickly and tenacious protagonist of the previous installments, but more mature, more sorrowful, more careful, more doubtful. This limitation is heightened by her division from her daemon, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to leave in pursuit of that youthful part of her which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with marvel and danger on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the religious governing authority, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, administrative malice – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's relative, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the role of leader of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his recently acquired authority to extend the religion's rule. Another protagonist, who rescued baby the heroine to security along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is assigned to a key location to learn more about his aims. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and costly rose oil which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a social and economic upheaval rippling out from that area. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a tradeable good, by different parties as a empirical or spiritual wonder, and by others still – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a source of darkness; an affront that must be destroyed. The question of its source, its significance, and if it should be removed or protected is escalating in importance.
Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's decisions, and her destiny, are revealed to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran mostly in parallel. In this final book, they come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, her movements and her path are revealed to be inextricably woven with the future of the realm. Her private mission to rejoin with her daemon and recover her imagination becomes the primary battleground in a larger war with an authoritarian system which, as such authorities typically do, is striving to quell independence of reason, innovation and art: all the inner, defiant ways in which people can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The story begins with the finding of a set of unusual cracks in the fabric of the Earth's sky: portals that appear to lead to different dimensions. An example of a window appears 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 religion's doctrine and sets out to destroy them. As the heroine begins to move from inflexible rationalism and revert to feeling, yet, her certainty that these places must be preserved – that their meaning and their value is in some way vital – increases. "Dust, or the extract, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a Blakean conflict between innocence and experience is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
