Tings are unraveling in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that appears, in this volume especially, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reassembling themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from governments, and pooling in the offices of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his seat in an city cafe. "Things we thought were firm and durable are deteriorating and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Just what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that drives The Rose Field, which continues where the previous book concluded. This is, according to many, the author's final excursion into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose landscape aligns with that of the real world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people appear and reason and behave like us, but are paired by external spirits, essences in animal form; where the air are filled with witches and mythical beasts, but underneath, buses are caught and beverages is consumed, and middle-aged scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a young woman: still recognisably the sharp and tenacious main character of the earlier books, but more mature, sadder, warier, less certain. This restraint is heightened by her split from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to go off in quest of that innocent part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and danger on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the church's governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of austere, administrative wickedness – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – the heroine's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the office of leader of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is set on using his newfound authority to extend the institution's dominium. Another protagonist, who carried young Lyra to security along a flooded Thames as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is sent to Geneva to learn more about the antagonist's plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and costly essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a societal and financial disturbance emanating out from that area. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a tradeable good, by others as a scientific or spiritual wonder, and by further factions – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a source of malevolence; an affront that must be eradicated. The issue of its origins, its significance, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is escalating in importance.
Like the first series, Lyra's deeds, and her fate, are shown to be deeply connected with the fate of the realm
In the previous volume, these narratives ran largely in side by side. In The Rose Field, they merge. As in His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions and her fate are unveiled to be inextricably woven with the future of the universe. Her personal journey to reunite with her daemon and regain her vision becomes the primary conflict in a wider conflict with an controlling government which, as such regimes always have, is striving to quell freedom of thinking, originality and culture: all the internal, defiant ways in which people can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The story starts with the discovery of a set of curious cracks in the structure of the world's air: gateways that appear to give on to alternate realities. An example of a window seems to be the origin of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The church, with the antagonist at its helm, designates these openings as a challenge to the religion's orthodoxy and sets out to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict reason and return to intuition, yet, her conviction that these locations must be defended – that what they stand for and what they provide is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "The substance, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or whatever we call it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a philosophical conflict between innocence and knowledge is established.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
