Things are falling apart in the last installment of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, now more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along novel and troubling lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from governments, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and durable are faltering and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Exactly what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that animates The Rose Field, which resumes where the previous book left off. This is, reportedly, the author's concluding foray into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting universe he first revealed 30 years ago, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose terrain corresponds to that of this world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans look and think and act like us, but are paired by external spirits, souls in beast form; where the air are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, buses are caught and tea is sipped, and mature professors carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the first volume, the introductory book with which the author began this trilogy, is now a adult: still recognisably the prickly and determined heroine of the prior volumes, but older, more sorrowful, warier, more doubtful. This limitation is heightened by her division from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to depart in search of that youthful part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which saw the protagonist undertake a wandering voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in motion, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the church's ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of rigid, procedural malice – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's uncle, who blames her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the role of head of the authority's governing body, and is determined on using his newfound authority to broaden the church's rule. Another protagonist, who rescued infant the heroine to refuge along a swollen river as an child in the first book, is now an academic with a secondary role in espionage: he is dispatched to a key location to discover more about Delamare's aims. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and costly botanical extract which manifests in some way to be the cause of a social and financial crisis rippling out from Central Asia. The extract is viewed by some as a marketable product, by others as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by others still – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of darkness; an insult that must be destroyed. The issue of its source, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is becoming urgent.
Like the original trilogy, Lyra's deeds, and her future, are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran mostly in parallel. In the conclusion, they come together. Like the first trilogy, the protagonist's movements and her fate are revealed to be deeply woven with the future of the realm. Her private journey to reunite with her soul and regain her creativity becomes the key battleground in a larger war with an controlling system which, as such authorities typically do, is attempting to quell freedom of thought, creativity and art: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The book begins with the discovery of a set of curious openings in the fabric of the world's sky: windows that seem to give on to alternate realities. One such opening seems to be the origin of the much debated rose oil. The authority, with its leader at its helm, designates these portals as a challenge to the institution's doctrine and sets out to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict rationalism and return to feeling, however, her conviction that these locations must be preserved – that their significance and what they offer is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a poetic tussle between innocence and knowledge is set.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
