Tings are unraveling in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the next of the author's masterful trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing 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 flowing away from governments, and gathering in the offices of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the hands of rioters. "Some force is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says trader a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and durable are faltering and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that drives The Rose Field, which picks up where its predecessor ended. This is, according to many, the author's final venture into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting universe he first revealed 30 years ago, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose terrain aligns with that of our world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans look and think and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, souls in animal form; where the air are teeming with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but below, transports are caught and tea is sipped, and older academics carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still recognisably the sharp and determined protagonist of the earlier books, but older, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This circumscription is amplified by her division from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to go off in pursuit of that youthful part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which followed the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with amazement and risk on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in motion, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of austere, procedural wickedness – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. The antagonist – the heroine's uncle, who faults her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of leader of the Magisterium's governing body, and is set on using his fresh influence to extend the church's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who saved baby Lyra to refuge along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an academic with a secondary role in spycraft: he is sent to the city to learn more about his intentions. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and costly botanical extract which appears in some way to be the source of a societal and financial crisis emanating out from that area. The oil is regarded by various factions as a tradeable product, by alternate groups as a research-based or spiritual phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a source of evil; an insult that must be destroyed. The question of its origins, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is escalating in importance.
Like the original trilogy, the heroine's deeds, and her destiny, are revealed to be inseparably connected with the future of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran broadly in parallel. In the conclusion, they come together. Similar to the original series, her actions and her path are revealed to be inseparably linked with the fate of the universe. Her personal quest to rejoin with her soul and rediscover her imagination becomes the key struggle in a larger conflict with an authoritarian regime which, as such regimes typically do, is seeking to suppress freedom of reason, creativity and culture: all the internal, resistant ways in which humans can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The story opens with the unveiling of a series of unusual fissures in the fabric of the planet's air: windows that seem to open into different dimensions. An example of a portal manifests to be the origin of the much debated botanical substance. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its head, labels these openings as a threat to the religion's doctrine and endeavors to destroy them. As Lyra begins to turn away from rigid reason and revert to instinct, yet, her belief that these locations must be protected – that their significance and what they offer is somehow vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a philosophical tussle between purity and knowledge is set.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
