Tings are collapsing in the last installment of The Book of Dust, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that appears, now more than ever, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from authorities, and gathering in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "Something is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and strong are weakening and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Exactly what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that propels the concluding book, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, the author's concluding foray into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating realm he first revealed in the distant past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose terrain aligns with that of the real world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans look and think and act like us, but are accompanied by daemons, souls in beast form; where the air are filled with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, buses are ridden and tea is sipped, and mature 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 La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which the author began the series, is now a adult: still distinctly the prickly and tenacious heroine of the previous installments, but aged, more sorrowful, warier, less sure. This circumscription is amplified by her division from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to go off in quest of that innocent part of her which she may have forgotten (an trait which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with amazement and danger on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in action, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's masterfully eerie incarnation of strict, administrative malice – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – our protagonist's family member, who faults her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the position of president of the church's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his fresh authority to broaden the institution's rule. A key character, who rescued baby the heroine to refuge along a flooded Thames as an child in the prequel, is now an academic with a sideline in spycraft: he is sent to Geneva to find out more about the antagonist's intentions. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and valuable rose oil which manifests somehow to be the source of a social and financial crisis emanating out from Central Asia. The oil is seen by various factions as a marketable commodity, by others as a scientific or spiritual wonder, and by yet others – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an insult that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its source, its meaning, and whether it should be destroyed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
As in His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be deeply linked with the fate of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran largely in side by side. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to the first trilogy, Lyra's actions and her destiny are shown to be deeply woven with the destiny of the world. Her personal quest to reunite with her soul and recover her creativity becomes the primary conflict in a broader conflict with an authoritarian system which, as these systems always have, is seeking to quell autonomy of reason, innovation and expression: all the internal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The novel opens with the unveiling of a collection of unusual openings in the structure of the planet's sky: windows that look to give on to alternate realities. An example of a portal seems to be the source of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The church, with the antagonist at its helm, classifies these portals as a threat to the religion's beliefs and endeavors to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from rigid logic and revert to feeling, however, her certainty that these locations must be protected – that what they stand for and their value is somehow crucial – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the vision, or the field of roses, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a Blakean tussle between purity and maturity is prepared.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
