Tings are collapsing 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 reorganizing themselves along novel and troubling lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is draining from states, and accumulating in the offices of theocrats, the vaults of conglomerates, the hands of crowds. "Some force is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and durable are weakening and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that propels The Rose Field, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, according to many, Pullman's last venture into the carefully crafted, infinitely beguiling realm he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose terrain maps on to that of this world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and reason and act like us, but are joined by external spirits, essences in creature form; where the heavens are teeming with sorceresses and gryphons, but below, transports are taken and beverages is sipped, and middle-aged academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a child in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still clearly the sharp and persistent protagonist of the earlier books, but older, melancholic, more cautious, less certain. This circumscription is amplified by her split from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to leave in pursuit of that innocent part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an quality which he represents as her "creativity"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the Caucasus, facing with amazement and risk on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the church's ruling body, and the author's deliciously chilling embodiment of austere, bureaucratic wickedness – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's family member, who blames her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the office of president of the authority's governing body, and is determined on using his recently acquired influence to broaden the church's rule. Another protagonist, who saved infant Lyra to safety along a flooded river as an child in the first book, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is dispatched to a key location to learn more about Delamare's aims. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and costly rose oil which manifests in some way to be the origin of a social and financial disturbance spreading out from Central Asia. The extract is seen by various factions as a commercial good, by different parties as a research-based or spiritual wonder, and by yet others – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a source of malevolence; an challenge that must be obliterated. The question of where it comes from, its meaning, and whether it should be eliminated or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
As in the first series, Lyra's actions, and her destiny, are shown to be inseparably linked with the fate of the universe
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in side by side. In the conclusion, they merge. Like the original series, Lyra's movements and her path are revealed to be deeply linked with the fate of the realm. Her private journey to rejoin with her companion and regain her imagination becomes the key battleground in a larger war with an oppressive government which, as these systems typically do, is attempting to stifle independence of thought, innovation and culture: all the internal, rebellious ways in which people can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The story starts with the finding of a series of unusual fissures in the structure of the Earth's sky: portals that appear to open into other worlds. An example of a window seems to be the source of the highly contested botanical substance. The church, with its leader at its head, labels these openings as a problem to the institution's beliefs and sets out to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from rigid reason and back to instinct, however, her conviction that these sites must be protected – that their significance and what they provide is mysteriously vital – grows. "Dust, or the extract, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or whatever we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a Blakean conflict between innocence and knowledge is established.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
