Things are collapsing in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a realm that manifests, in this volume especially, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along new and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is draining from governments, and gathering in the halls of theocrats, the vaults of conglomerates, the control of crowds. "Some force is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and strong are weakening and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that drives The Rose Field, which continues where the previous book concluded. This is, according to many, Pullman's final excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced 30 years ago, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose terrain corresponds to that of our world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the people look and think and behave like us, but are joined by external spirits, essences in creature form; where the heavens are filled with witches and mythical beasts, but underneath, buses are taken and drinks is drunk, and older scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still distinctly the prickly and persistent heroine of the earlier books, but aged, melancholic, warier, more doubtful. This restraint is heightened by her division from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to leave in pursuit of that childlike part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a wandering voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with wonder and peril on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the church's ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, procedural malice – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's relative, who faults her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the office of leader of the church's High Council, and is set on using his recently acquired power to extend the religion's dominium. Another protagonist, who rescued young Lyra to safety along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a sideline in spycraft: he is assigned to a key location to find out more about his intentions. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and precious essential oil which manifests mysteriously to be the origin of a societal and economic upheaval emanating out from that area. The extract is regarded by various factions as a commercial good, by alternate groups as a scientific or esoteric miracle, and by yet others – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of evil; an challenge that must be destroyed. The question of its source, its significance, and whether it should be destroyed or protected is becoming urgent.
As in His Dark Materials, the heroine's decisions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be deeply linked with the future of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran broadly in side by side. In the conclusion, they come together. Like the first trilogy, the protagonist's actions and her destiny are shown to be inextricably woven with the destiny of the world. Her personal journey to reconnect with her daemon and rediscover her imagination becomes the primary struggle in a broader battle with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes often attempt, is attempting to quell independence of reason, creativity and art: all the inner, rebellious ways in which people can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The story starts with the finding of a set of strange openings in the structure of the world's air: portals that seem to give on to different dimensions. A particular window appears to be the origin of the highly contested rose oil. The authority, with its leader at its head, classifies these portals as a problem to the religion's orthodoxy and endeavors to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from strict logic and return to intuition, however, her belief that these locations must be protected – that what they stand for and their value is in some way crucial – grows. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or whatever we label it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a poetic tussle between naivety and knowledge is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
