Things are collapsing in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the next of the author's masterful trilogies set in a realm that appears, in this volume especially, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or restructuring themselves along novel and troubling lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from authorities, and accumulating in the offices of religious leaders, the coffers of business empires, the control of crowds. "Some force is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says trader a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and strong are faltering and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Just what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that animates the concluding book, which resumes where its predecessor left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding excursion into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling universe he first revealed 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a world whose terrain corresponds to that of the real world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the individuals appear and think and behave like us, but are joined by daemons, essences in creature form; where the heavens are teeming with enchantresses and gryphons, but underneath, buses are caught and drinks is sipped, and older scholars carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still recognisably the prickly and determined heroine of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, more cautious, less certain. This restraint is amplified by her separation from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to go off in search of that innocent part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with marvel and peril on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in motion, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the church's governing authority, and the author's deliciously chilling representation of austere, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member'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 church's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who saved baby the heroine to security along a overflowing river as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is dispatched to a key location to find out more about Delamare's plans. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and valuable botanical extract which seems somehow to be the origin of a societal and economic crisis emanating out from that area. The oil is seen by some as a tradeable good, by others as a scientific or spiritual phenomenon, and by others still – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a source of darkness; an insult that must be obliterated. The issue of its origins, what it stands for, and if it should be eliminated or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
Similar to His Dark Materials, our protagonist's deeds, and her future, are shown to be inextricably linked with the future of the world
In the previous volume, these storylines ran largely in tandem. In The Rose Field, they converge. As in His Dark Materials, the protagonist's movements and her destiny are shown to be inextricably linked with the destiny of the universe. Her private mission to rejoin with her soul and rediscover her creativity becomes the primary conflict in a wider war with an controlling system which, as such authorities typically do, is attempting to suppress independence of thinking, innovation and art: all the personal, resistant ways in which people can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The story starts with the discovery of a collection of curious openings in the fabric of the planet's air: gateways that seem to give on to different dimensions. A particular opening seems to be the origin of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The authority, with its leader at its leadership, classifies these windows as a problem to the religion's orthodoxy and aims to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to move from strict logic and revert to feeling, however, her certainty that these places must be preserved – that what they stand for and what they offer is somehow vital – strengthens. "Dust, or the substance, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we call it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a poetic tussle between innocence and experience is set.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
