Tings are falling apart in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that manifests, in this volume especially, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from authorities, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, very quietly, gradually", says merchant a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and durable are deteriorating and giving way."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Just what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that animates this final volume, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding venture into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting world he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose terrain corresponds to that of the real world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the people appear and think and behave like us, but are paired by animal souls, souls in beast form; where the air are populated with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are ridden and drinks is sipped, and middle-aged scholars carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a child in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a young woman: still recognisably the sharp and determined heroine of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, more cautious, less certain. This circumscription is amplified by her split from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to leave in pursuit of that youthful part of her which she appears to have shed (an quality which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw the protagonist undertake a wandering journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, facing with amazement and peril on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in play, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the church's governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling embodiment of strict, administrative evil – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's relative, who faults her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the position of leader of the Magisterium's governing body, and is determined on using his fresh power to extend the church's dominium. A key character, who carried baby Lyra to security along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an academic with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is dispatched to the city to discover more about his aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious rose oil which appears in some way to be the cause of a societal and economic upheaval spreading out from that area. The substance is viewed by certain groups as a tradeable product, by different parties as a scientific or esoteric phenomenon, and by yet others – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of malevolence; an challenge that must be eradicated. The issue of its origins, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or preserved is becoming urgent.
Similar to His Dark Materials, the heroine's deeds, and her future, are revealed to be deeply connected with the future of the universe
In the previous volume, these plots ran broadly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's movements and her path are unveiled to be inseparably woven with the destiny of the universe. Her personal quest to reconnect with her daemon and rediscover her creativity becomes the central battleground in a wider war with an authoritarian system which, as these systems often attempt, is seeking to quell independence of reason, innovation and culture: all the inner, rebellious ways in which people can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The novel opens with the unveiling of a series of strange fissures in the makeup of the world's atmosphere: gateways that look to lead to other worlds. A particular opening appears to be the origin of the highly contested botanical substance. The church, with Delamare at its leadership, classifies these windows as a challenge to the institution's orthodoxy and endeavors to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to move from inflexible logic and revert to instinct, yet, her conviction that these sites must be protected – that their significance and what they provide is in some way vital – increases. "The substance, or the substance, or the vision, or the field of roses, or whatever we call it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a philosophical struggle between innocence and knowledge is established.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
