Tings are falling apart in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, now more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or restructuring themselves along new and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from authorities, and accumulating in the offices of theocrats, the coffers of corporations, the hands of mobs. "An element is at work, very quietly, gradually", says merchant a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and solid are faltering and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that drives The Rose Field, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, reportedly, Pullman's concluding excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting universe he first revealed 30 years ago, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose terrain maps on to that of our world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are joined by external spirits, essences in animal form; where the heavens are teeming with witches and mythical beasts, but below, buses are taken and drinks is sipped, and older academics carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the prequel, the prequel with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still distinctly the spiky and persistent main character of the previous installments, but older, more sorrowful, more cautious, more doubtful. This restraint is amplified by her separation from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to depart in pursuit of that innocent part of her which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he represents as her "vision"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which chronicled Lyra undertake a adventurous journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with wonder and risk on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in action, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the faith's controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of rigid, administrative wickedness – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's family member, who holds responsible her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the position of leader of the church's High Council, and is determined on using his recently acquired influence to expand the religion's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued young Lyra to refuge along a overflowing river as an child in the first book, is now an academic with a sideline in spycraft: he is assigned to a key location to find out more about the antagonist's intentions. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and valuable botanical extract which seems in some way to be the source of a societal and economic disturbance spreading out from Central Asia. The substance is seen by certain groups as a tradeable product, by alternate groups as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by yet others – the zealous "highland figures" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an affront that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its source, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions, and her destiny, are revealed to be deeply connected with the fate of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran mostly in tandem. In the conclusion, they come together. Similar to the original series, the protagonist's choices and her destiny are revealed to be deeply linked with the future of the world. Her private mission to reunite with her soul and regain her creativity becomes the key struggle in a wider war with an oppressive system which, as such authorities typically do, is seeking to stifle autonomy of thinking, creativity and expression: all the personal, rebellious ways in which people can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The story starts with the discovery of a series of unusual fissures in the structure of the world's atmosphere: gateways that appear to give on to different dimensions. One such opening seems to be the source of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its helm, labels these windows as a threat to the church's orthodoxy and aims to destroy them. As the heroine begins to shift from inflexible rationalism and revert to instinct, however, her certainty that these places must be protected – that what they stand for and their value is in some way vital – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or whatever we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a philosophical conflict between purity and knowledge is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
