Things are collapsing in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that appears, here more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is draining from states, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the control of rioters. "An element is at work, silently, gradually", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and durable are weakening and failing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that animates the concluding book, which resumes where its predecessor concluded. This is, reportedly, the author's final foray into the elaborately built, deeply captivating world he first revealed three decades past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a world whose landscape maps on to that of this world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the people appear and think and behave like us, but are accompanied by daemons, essences in beast form; where the skies are filled with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, vehicles are ridden and tea is drunk, and middle-aged professors carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the origin story with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still clearly the prickly and determined main character of the earlier books, but more mature, melancholic, warier, more doubtful. This limitation is heightened by her division from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to go off in quest of that childlike part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an quality which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which chronicled Lyra undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and peril on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the religious controlling power, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of rigid, procedural wickedness – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's relative, who faults her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the role of head of the church's ruling assembly, and is set on using his newfound power to broaden the institution's control. Another protagonist, who carried infant Lyra to safety along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in espionage: he is sent to a key location to learn more about Delamare's intentions. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and costly essential oil which appears in some way to be the origin of a societal and financial upheaval rippling out from Central Asia. The substance is seen by certain groups as a commercial commodity, by others as a research-based or esoteric miracle, and by others still – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a source of evil; an insult that must be eradicated. The dilemma of where it comes from, its significance, and whether it should be destroyed or preserved is escalating in importance.
As in His Dark Materials, our protagonist's decisions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be deeply linked with the fate of the world
In its predecessor, these plots ran broadly in side by side. In The Rose Field, they converge. Similar to the original series, the protagonist's actions and her path are shown to be deeply woven with the fate of the realm. Her personal journey to rejoin with her soul and regain her imagination becomes the central conflict in a broader battle with an controlling government which, as such authorities often attempt, is seeking to quell freedom of reason, originality and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which people can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The novel starts with the unveiling of a collection of strange fissures in the structure of the planet's air: windows that look to lead to alternate realities. An example of a portal seems to be the point of the much debated botanical substance. The church, with its leader at its helm, designates these windows as a challenge to the church's orthodoxy and sets out to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from strict reason and return to intuition, however, her belief that these locations must be preserved – that their meaning and what they offer is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a Blakean struggle between naivety and maturity is established.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
