Tings are unraveling in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the second of the author's masterful trilogies set in a universe that appears, now more than ever, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along new and troubling lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from governments, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the grasp of crowds. "Some force is at work, stealthily, gradually", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and solid are faltering and failing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where the previous book concluded. This is, according to many, Pullman's last venture into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating universe he first unveiled three decades past, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose geography maps on to that of our world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, essences in animal form; where the heavens are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but below, transports are caught and tea is drunk, and middle-aged academics carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began the series, is now a adult: still clearly the sharp and tenacious heroine of the previous installments, but older, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This restraint is amplified by her separation from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to leave in quest of that childlike part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an quality which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed the protagonist undertake a wandering voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and risk on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie incarnation of strict, administrative wickedness – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's family member, who faults her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the role of president of the church's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his newfound power to expand the church's dominium. A key character, who carried infant Lyra to security along a swollen river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is dispatched to a key location to learn more about the antagonist's plans. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and valuable rose oil which seems in some way to be the source of a societal and economic crisis spreading out from that area. The extract is regarded by various factions as a commercial product, by others as a research-based or mystical wonder, and by others still – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of malevolence; an affront that must be destroyed. The question of its source, its meaning, and whether it should be removed or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like His Dark Materials, our protagonist's decisions, and her future, are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the universe
In its predecessor, these narratives ran broadly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they come together. As in His Dark Materials, her actions and her path are revealed to be inseparably linked with the fate of the realm. Her personal quest to reconnect with her soul and recover her imagination becomes the primary conflict in a wider conflict with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes often attempt, is attempting to stifle independence of thinking, originality and art: all the personal, resistant ways in which people can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The story begins with the discovery of a set of unusual cracks in the fabric of the world's atmosphere: gateways that seem to give on to other worlds. A particular window seems to be the origin of the highly contested rose oil. The church, with Delamare at its helm, classifies these openings as a challenge to the church's doctrine and aims to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from strict rationalism and back to feeling, nevertheless, her belief that these places must be protected – that their significance and what they provide is mysteriously crucial – grows. "The substance, or the extract, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a Blakean struggle between purity and knowledge is established.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
