Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that seems, in this volume especially, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from authorities, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of conglomerates, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were secure and strong are weakening and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that animates The Rose Field, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, by all accounts, the author's last venture into the carefully crafted, infinitely beguiling realm he first introduced in the distant past, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose geography maps on to that of this world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the people appear and think and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, beings in animal form; where the air are filled with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but below, buses are caught and drinks is sipped, and mature academics carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the prickly and tenacious main character of the previous installments, but aged, more sorrowful, warier, less sure. This restraint is amplified by her split from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to go off in pursuit of that childlike part of her which she may have forgotten (an trait which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed the protagonist undertake a wandering voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and risk on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in play, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the religious controlling power, and the author's deliciously chilling incarnation of strict, bureaucratic evil – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. The antagonist – Lyra's relative, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the office of leader of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his fresh authority to expand the religion's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued infant Lyra to security along a swollen river as an young boy in the first book, is now an academic with a additional duty in espionage: he is sent to a key location to find out more about Delamare's intentions. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and precious botanical extract which seems mysteriously to be the cause of a societal and financial crisis emanating out from that area. The oil is seen by certain groups as a tradeable product, by different parties as a empirical or spiritual wonder, and by others still – the zealous "highland figures" – as a wellspring of evil; an challenge that must be eradicated. The issue of its source, its significance, and if it should be removed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Like His Dark Materials, our protagonist's decisions, and her future, are revealed to be deeply entwined with the future of the universe
In its predecessor, these storylines ran largely in parallel. In The Rose Field, they converge. Similar to the first trilogy, her movements and her path are shown to be inseparably woven with the future of the universe. Her private mission to reconnect with her soul and rediscover her vision becomes the primary battleground in a broader battle with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes typically do, is seeking to stifle freedom of thought, innovation and art: all the inner, defiant ways in which individuals can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The novel begins with the discovery of a collection of unusual openings in the fabric of the planet's atmosphere: gateways that appear to give on to alternate realities. One such portal manifests to be the source of the much debated botanical substance. The church, with its leader at its helm, designates these windows as a challenge to the institution's orthodoxy and endeavors to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from rigid rationalism and back to feeling, however, her conviction that these sites must be preserved – that what they stand for and what they offer is in some way essential – strengthens. "Dust, or the substance, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a philosophical conflict between innocence and experience is prepared.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the