Things are falling apart in the last installment of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that appears, here more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from authorities, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the control of mobs. "An element is at work, stealthily, gradually", says businessman a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and solid are weakening and failing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Just what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that animates The Rose Field, which continues where the previous book left off. This is, by all accounts, the author's final excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting realm he first revealed 30 years ago, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose landscape maps on to that of the real world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, essences in animal form; where the air are teeming with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, vehicles are taken and tea is drunk, and mature scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a adult: still recognisably the spiky and persistent heroine of the earlier books, but aged, melancholic, warier, more doubtful. This restraint is intensified by her split from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to go off in quest of that innocent part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and danger on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in play, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the religious ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of austere, administrative malice – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. The antagonist – our protagonist's family member, who faults her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the position of president of the authority's governing body, and is intent on using his newfound power to broaden the religion's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued baby Lyra to security along a overflowing river as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is dispatched to Geneva to discover more about Delamare's plans. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and precious botanical extract which manifests in some way to be the source of a social and financial disturbance spreading out from that area. The substance is viewed by certain groups as a marketable product, by different parties as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by further factions – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of its source, its meaning, and if it should be removed or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the original trilogy, Lyra's decisions, and her future, are demonstrated to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran broadly in tandem. In this final book, they merge. Like His Dark Materials, her actions and her path are unveiled to be inseparably woven with the future of the realm. Her personal mission to reunite with her companion and rediscover her vision becomes the key struggle in a broader war with an oppressive government which, as such authorities always have, is seeking to quell autonomy of reason, originality and art: all the personal, defiant ways in which people can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The novel opens with the discovery of a series of curious openings in the makeup of the Earth's air: windows that look to give on to different dimensions. One such window seems to be the origin of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its leadership, classifies these windows as a threat to the church's doctrine and sets out to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from strict rationalism and back to feeling, however, her belief that these sites must be defended – that their meaning and what they offer is mysteriously crucial – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a poetic struggle between innocence and knowledge is set.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
