Things are collapsing in the last installment of The Book of Dust, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that appears, here more than ever, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reassembling themselves along new and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from authorities, and gathering in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of corporations, the grasp of rioters. "An element is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says trader a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were secure and solid are faltering and giving way."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding venture into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting universe he first revealed in the distant past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a world whose terrain aligns with that of our world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and reason and behave like us, but are paired by animal souls, beings in creature form; where the skies are teeming with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, buses are caught and beverages is consumed, and older academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious protagonist of the previous installments, but older, melancholic, more careful, less sure. This circumscription is heightened by her division from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to depart in search of that innocent part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an quality which he represents as her "vision"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with marvel and risk on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in play, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and the author's masterfully eerie representation of rigid, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the office of head of the church's High Council, and is set on using his fresh influence to expand the institution's rule. A key character, who saved infant the heroine to security along a swollen river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to the city to find out more about his aims. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and costly essential oil which appears somehow to be the cause of a societal and economic disturbance emanating out from Central Asia. The substance is regarded by some as a commercial product, by alternate groups as a scientific or spiritual phenomenon, and by further factions – the zealous "highland figures" – as a source of malevolence; an challenge that must be eradicated. The issue of its origins, its significance, and if it should be eliminated or preserved is escalating in importance.
As in the first series, Lyra's decisions, and her destiny, are revealed to be inextricably linked with the destiny of the universe
In the previous volume, these narratives ran broadly in parallel. In this final book, they come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's movements and her fate are shown to be inextricably linked with the destiny of the universe. Her private quest to reunite with her companion and rediscover her vision becomes the central battleground in a wider conflict with an controlling system which, as such authorities always have, is attempting to quell independence of reason, originality and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The story begins with the discovery of a set of unusual fissures in the makeup of the world's sky: windows that appear to give on to alternate realities. One such portal manifests to be the point of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The church, with its leader at its helm, labels these portals as a threat to the institution's beliefs and sets out to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to move from inflexible logic and revert to instinct, yet, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that their significance and their value is somehow crucial – strengthens. "Dust, or the substance, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or whatever we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a philosophical tussle between purity and knowledge is prepared.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
