Tings are collapsing in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that manifests, now more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from governments, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the control of crowds. "Some force is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Things we thought were firm and strong are deteriorating and failing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Precisely what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels the concluding book, which resumes where its predecessor ended. This is, by all accounts, the author's concluding venture into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced three decades past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose terrain maps on to that of the real world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the people appear and think and behave like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, beings in beast form; where the heavens are teeming with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but below, buses are taken and beverages is consumed, and middle-aged professors carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the first volume, the prequel with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still clearly the sharp and tenacious main character of the previous installments, but older, sadder, more cautious, more doubtful. This circumscription is intensified by her division from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to go off in search of that innocent part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an quality which he represents as her "vision"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and risk on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in play, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the faith's ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of rigid, administrative wickedness – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's family member, who faults her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the office of head of the church's governing body, and is set on using his fresh authority to expand the religion's control. Another protagonist, who carried baby Lyra to safety along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to a key location to discover more about the antagonist's aims. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and precious rose oil which manifests somehow to be the origin of a societal and economic disturbance spreading out from the region. The extract is viewed by various factions as a tradeable commodity, by alternate groups as a scientific or spiritual phenomenon, and by yet others – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an insult that must be eradicated. The question of its origins, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is becoming urgent.
Like the original trilogy, Lyra's deeds, and her future, are shown to be deeply linked with the future of the universe
In the previous volume, these plots ran broadly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they merge. As in His Dark Materials, the protagonist's choices and her destiny are shown to be inextricably entwined with the future of the world. Her private journey to rejoin with her companion and recover her creativity becomes the central conflict in a larger war with an authoritarian regime which, as such regimes typically do, is attempting to quell freedom of thought, originality and culture: all the internal, defiant ways in which individuals can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The story begins with the discovery of a series of curious fissures in the makeup of the planet's sky: portals that look to lead to different dimensions. A particular portal manifests to be the point of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The church, with its leader at its head, designates these openings as a threat to the institution's beliefs and aims to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from strict logic and back to feeling, yet, her conviction that these locations must be protected – that their significance and what they offer is somehow vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or no matter what we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a Blakean conflict between naivety and experience is prepared.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
