Tings are falling apart in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Organizations are failing, or reassembling themselves along new and troubling lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is draining from authorities, and pooling in the offices of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the Silk Roads from his place in an city cafe. "Things we thought were stable and strong are weakening and failing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Exactly what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that propels this final volume, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, the author's final excursion into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced three decades past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography corresponds to that of our world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and reason and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, beings in creature form; where the air are populated with enchantresses and gryphons, but underneath, vehicles are ridden and beverages is sipped, and older academics carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still distinctly the prickly and determined protagonist of the earlier books, but older, melancholic, more cautious, less sure. This circumscription is intensified by her division from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to depart in search of that innocent part of her which she may have forgotten (an trait which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which chronicled Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with amazement and risk on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the faith's ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of austere, bureaucratic evil – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's family member, who holds responsible her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the position of leader of the Magisterium's High Council, and is determined on using his recently acquired authority to expand the religion's rule. Another protagonist, who saved young Lyra to refuge along a flooded river as an child in the first book, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in spycraft: he is dispatched to Geneva to discover more about his intentions. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and costly rose oil which seems in some way to be the source of a social and financial upheaval spreading out from that area. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a tradeable product, by alternate groups as a research-based or spiritual phenomenon, and by further factions – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an insult that must be obliterated. The issue of its origins, its meaning, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is becoming urgent.
Like the first series, our protagonist's deeds, and her fate, are demonstrated to be inextricably linked with the future of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran broadly in side by side. In The Rose Field, they come together. Like the original series, Lyra's choices and her path are unveiled to be inextricably woven with the destiny of the universe. Her personal journey to reconnect with her companion and regain her imagination becomes the central conflict in a wider war with an authoritarian system which, as such authorities often attempt, is seeking to quell autonomy of reason, originality and expression: all the internal, defiant ways in which humans can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The novel begins with the discovery of a collection of unusual fissures in the fabric of the Earth's atmosphere: portals that look to lead to different dimensions. A particular portal appears to be the origin of the much debated mystical extract. The authority, with the antagonist at its leadership, classifies these portals as a threat to the institution's doctrine and aims to destroy them. As Lyra begins to turn away from rigid rationalism and back to instinct, however, her conviction that these locations must be preserved – that their meaning and what they offer is in some way vital – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a Blakean conflict between innocence and experience is set.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
