Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that seems, in this volume especially, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or restructuring themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from states, and pooling in the halls of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says businessman a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were firm and solid are deteriorating and giving way."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where its predecessor left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's concluding excursion into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting realm he first introduced three decades past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose landscape corresponds to that of this world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the people appear and think and behave like us, but are accompanied by daemons, essences in animal form; where the heavens are filled with sorceresses and gryphons, but below, transports are ridden and beverages is consumed, and older scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the prequel, the prequel with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the spiky and tenacious heroine of the previous installments, but aged, melancholic, more careful, less sure. This circumscription is heightened by her split from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to leave in pursuit of that childlike part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an quality which he represents as her "imagination"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which chronicled Lyra undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with wonder and danger on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the faith's ruling body, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister embodiment of austere, procedural malice – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's uncle, who faults her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of president of the authority's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his fresh influence to extend the religion's rule. A key character, who carried baby Lyra to refuge along a swollen Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a sideline in intelligence work: he is assigned to the city to learn more about his plans. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and valuable rose oil which appears in some way to be the source of a societal and economic disturbance rippling out from that area. The oil is regarded by various factions as a commercial good, by others as a scientific or mystical miracle, and by further factions – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an insult that must be obliterated. The question of where it comes from, what it stands for, and whether it should be destroyed or preserved is escalating in importance.
Similar to the original trilogy, Lyra's deeds, and her future, are demonstrated to be deeply connected with the destiny of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran mostly in side by side. In the conclusion, they converge. Similar to the original series, the protagonist's actions and her destiny are shown to be inextricably linked with the fate of the universe. Her personal quest to reunite with her soul and regain her vision becomes the primary conflict in a larger war with an authoritarian regime which, as such authorities often attempt, is attempting to stifle autonomy of thought, innovation and culture: all the internal, rebellious ways in which people can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The novel starts with the discovery of a collection of strange openings in the fabric of the Earth's atmosphere: gateways that appear to open into different dimensions. One such opening appears to be the origin of the highly contested mystical extract. The church, with its leader at its head, labels these portals as a problem to the institution's doctrine and endeavors to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict rationalism and revert to instinct, however, her belief that these places must be defended – that their meaning and what they offer is in some way vital – grows. "The substance, or the substance, or the vision, or the field of roses, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a poetic struggle between purity and maturity is established.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
