Tings are unraveling in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that manifests, in this volume especially, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from authorities, and pooling in the offices of religious leaders, the treasuries of conglomerates, the hands of mobs. "An element is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and solid are faltering and giving way."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Precisely what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that animates The Rose Field, which resumes where the previous book concluded. This is, according to many, Pullman's final foray into the elaborately built, deeply captivating realm he first revealed in the distant past, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose geography corresponds to that of our world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans look and think and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, essences in creature form; where the heavens are populated with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, vehicles are caught and tea is sipped, and middle-aged academics carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a child in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still distinctly the prickly and persistent protagonist of the prior volumes, but older, sadder, more careful, more doubtful. This limitation is amplified by her division from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to go off in search of that innocent part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he represents as her "vision"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with wonder and risk on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's masterfully eerie incarnation of austere, administrative wickedness – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's uncle, who blames her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of leader of the authority's governing body, and is intent on using his recently acquired authority to broaden the church's dominium. Another protagonist, who rescued infant Lyra to security along a swollen Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is dispatched to the city to discover more about the antagonist's plans. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and costly botanical extract which manifests somehow to be the origin of a social and financial disturbance spreading out from that area. The extract is seen by certain groups as a commercial good, by different parties as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by further factions – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of evil; an affront that must be eradicated. The question of its origins, its meaning, and whether it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.
Similar to the first series, Lyra's decisions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be deeply linked with the future of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran largely in parallel. In this final book, they merge. Similar to the first trilogy, the protagonist's actions and her path are revealed to be deeply linked with the destiny of the world. Her personal journey to rejoin with her daemon and regain her imagination becomes the primary battleground in a wider war with an oppressive system which, as such regimes often attempt, is striving to suppress autonomy of thought, innovation and art: all the personal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The book starts with the discovery of a set of strange fissures in the fabric of the world's sky: portals that look to lead to alternate realities. One such opening manifests to be the origin of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its helm, labels these openings as a challenge to the church's beliefs and sets out to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict rationalism and back to feeling, however, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that their significance and what they provide is mysteriously essential – strengthens. "The substance, or the substance, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a Blakean struggle between purity and knowledge is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
