Things are falling apart in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a realm that appears, now more than ever, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reorganizing themselves along novel and troubling lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is draining from authorities, and accumulating in the halls of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the control of rioters. "Some force is at work, very quietly, gradually", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and strong are deteriorating and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that propels The Rose Field, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's last venture into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling realm he first introduced 30 years ago, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a world whose landscape corresponds to that of this world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and behave like us, but are joined by daemons, souls in beast form; where the skies are teeming with enchantresses and gryphons, but underneath, transports are ridden and drinks is drunk, and older academics carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first met as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a young woman: still distinctly the prickly and determined protagonist of the prior volumes, but aged, sadder, more cautious, more doubtful. This circumscription is heightened by her separation from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to depart in quest of that childlike part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he represents as her "imagination"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with marvel and danger on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in action, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of austere, administrative wickedness – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's family member, who faults her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of president of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his newfound power to broaden the church's control. Malcolm Polstead, who saved infant the heroine to refuge along a flooded river as an child in the prequel, is now an academic with a sideline in espionage: he is assigned to Geneva to find out more about Delamare's plans. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and valuable rose oil which seems in some way to be the source of a social and financial disturbance spreading out from the region. The extract is seen by some as a commercial product, by others as a research-based or spiritual phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an affront that must be obliterated. The question of its source, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like the original trilogy, Lyra's actions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be deeply connected with the destiny of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran broadly in parallel. In this final book, they merge. As in His Dark Materials, the protagonist's movements and her fate are shown to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the world. Her private quest to rejoin with her soul and rediscover her creativity becomes the key struggle in a larger war with an authoritarian regime which, as such regimes often attempt, is striving to suppress independence of reason, originality and art: all the inner, rebellious ways in which people can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The novel starts with the unveiling of a series of strange cracks in the structure of the world's sky: portals that look to give on to alternate realities. A particular opening manifests to be the point of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The authority, with Delamare at its head, designates these portals as a challenge to the church's doctrine and endeavors to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to shift from inflexible reason and back to instinct, yet, her belief that these sites must be protected – that their meaning and what they provide is somehow vital – grows. "Dust, or the substance, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or whatever we label it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a Blakean struggle between innocence and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
