Things are unraveling in the last installment of The Book of Dust, the second of the author's masterful trilogies set in a universe that manifests, now more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from authorities, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the grasp of mobs. "An element is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and solid are faltering and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels the concluding book, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, according to many, the author's final excursion into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating universe he first revealed 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose geography aligns with that of this world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are paired by daemons, beings in animal form; where the skies are filled with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, transports are taken and tea is consumed, and middle-aged professors carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the first volume, the introductory book with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still clearly the spiky and persistent heroine of the previous installments, but older, more sorrowful, more careful, less sure. This circumscription is amplified by her separation from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to go off in pursuit of that innocent part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and peril on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of austere, bureaucratic wickedness – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's family member, who faults her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of president of the church's governing body, and is intent on using his fresh influence to extend the institution's dominium. Another protagonist, who carried baby the heroine to safety along a flooded Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an academic with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to the city to find out more about the antagonist's plans. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and precious essential oil which seems in some way to be the origin of a social and economic upheaval emanating out from that area. The substance is regarded by certain groups as a tradeable product, by different parties as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by others still – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a origin of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of its origins, its significance, and whether it should be destroyed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
As in His Dark Materials, the heroine's decisions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be deeply entwined with the fate of the world
In the previous volume, these storylines ran mostly in side by side. In The Rose Field, they merge. Similar to the original series, Lyra's movements and her path are shown to be deeply linked with the destiny of the world. Her personal journey to rejoin with her soul and recover her imagination becomes the primary struggle in a wider conflict with an oppressive regime which, as such authorities always have, is striving to quell freedom of thinking, originality and expression: all the inner, defiant ways in which humans can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The novel starts with the unveiling of a series of curious fissures in the fabric of the world's sky: portals that appear to lead to alternate realities. One such portal seems to be the source of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its helm, designates these portals as a threat to the church's doctrine and sets out to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from inflexible rationalism and return to intuition, however, her certainty that these locations must be protected – that their meaning and what they offer is mysteriously essential – increases. "The substance, or the substance, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a Blakean conflict between naivety and maturity is set.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
