Tings are falling apart in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, now more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along new and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from states, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the grasp of rioters. "An element is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and solid are faltering and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, according to many, the author's last foray into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling world he first unveiled three decades past, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose terrain aligns with that of this world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and behave like us, but are paired by animal souls, souls in beast form; where the skies are filled with sorceresses and gryphons, but underneath, transports are caught and tea is sipped, and mature academics carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still clearly the spiky and determined main character of the prior volumes, but more mature, sadder, more careful, more doubtful. This restraint is heightened by her split from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to leave in quest of that childlike part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an trait which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a wandering journey across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and risk on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of strict, administrative evil – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's uncle, who blames her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the office of head of the church's governing body, and is intent on using his recently acquired power to broaden the church's rule. Another protagonist, who rescued infant Lyra to refuge along a flooded Thames as an child in the first book, is now an academic with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is assigned to the city to find out more about his aims. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and precious rose oil which manifests in some way to be the source of a societal and economic crisis emanating out from Central Asia. The extract is viewed by various factions as a commercial commodity, by alternate groups as a empirical or esoteric wonder, and by yet others – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an affront that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its origins, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like the first series, the heroine's decisions, and her future, are shown to be inextricably entwined with the future of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran mostly in side by side. In the conclusion, they merge. Like the original series, the protagonist's movements and her path are shown to be inseparably woven with the future of the world. Her private mission to reunite with her soul and rediscover her vision becomes the primary battleground in a larger war with an authoritarian regime which, as such regimes always have, is attempting to stifle independence of thought, originality and expression: all the personal, resistant ways in which people can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The novel begins with the discovery of a series of curious openings in the makeup of the world's atmosphere: windows that look to lead to different dimensions. One such window appears to be the origin of the much debated botanical substance. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its head, labels these portals as a threat to the church's doctrine and aims to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict logic and back to instinct, nevertheless, her conviction that these locations must be preserved – that their meaning and their value is in some way vital – grows. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or no matter what we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a poetic struggle between innocence and experience is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
