Things are unraveling in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a world that manifests, in this volume especially, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reassembling themselves along novel and troubling lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from authorities, and pooling in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of corporations, the control of mobs. "Some force is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and solid are deteriorating and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Exactly what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels The Rose Field, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, reportedly, Pullman's concluding foray into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating realm he first introduced in the distant past, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography maps on to that of this world, but whose history veers and changes with ours; where the humans look and think and act like us, but are joined by external spirits, beings in creature form; where the air are filled with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are caught and beverages is drunk, and older scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the first volume, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still clearly the sharp and persistent main character of the prior volumes, but aged, sadder, warier, less certain. This restraint is amplified by her split from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to leave in search of that innocent part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed Lyra undertake a wandering journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, facing with amazement and peril on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in action, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of austere, procedural wickedness – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. The antagonist – our protagonist's family member, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the office of president of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is set on using his newfound power to extend the institution's control. Malcolm Polstead, who saved young the heroine to refuge along a swollen river as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is dispatched to Geneva to find out more about his plans. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and precious essential oil which appears in some way to be the source of a societal and economic disturbance spreading out from that area. The extract is viewed by some as a commercial commodity, by different parties as a research-based or esoteric wonder, and by further factions – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an challenge that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its source, what it stands for, and if it should be removed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
As in the original trilogy, our protagonist's actions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran broadly in tandem. In the conclusion, they merge. Like the original series, the protagonist's movements and her fate are revealed to be deeply linked with the fate of the world. Her individual journey to reunite with her companion and regain her vision becomes the central conflict in a wider battle with an controlling regime which, as such authorities typically do, is attempting to quell freedom of thinking, originality and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which humans can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The novel starts with the discovery of a set of unusual openings in the makeup of the planet's sky: portals that look to lead to other worlds. One such window appears to be the point of the highly contested rose oil. The church, with the antagonist at its helm, designates these portals as a problem to the institution's doctrine and endeavors to destroy them. As the heroine begins to move from inflexible reason and revert to intuition, however, her belief that these locations must be preserved – that their significance and what they offer is somehow vital – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a poetic struggle between innocence and knowledge is set.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
