Things are collapsing in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that appears, now more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is draining from states, and gathering in the offices of religious leaders, the treasuries of conglomerates, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and solid are weakening and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that animates The Rose Field, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, by all accounts, the author's concluding foray into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting realm he first revealed in the distant past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a world whose geography maps on to that of this world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and reason and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, essences in beast form; where the heavens are teeming with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but below, buses are ridden and drinks is consumed, and older professors carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still recognisably the spiky and determined protagonist of the previous installments, but aged, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This restraint is intensified by her split from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to go off in search of that youthful part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her mission 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, encountering with marvel and peril on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the faith's controlling power, and the author's deliciously chilling representation of rigid, bureaucratic malice – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's uncle, who faults her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the office of head of the Magisterium's governing body, and is determined on using his newfound power to broaden the church's rule. Another protagonist, who rescued infant Lyra to security along a swollen river as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is sent to the city to discover more about Delamare's intentions. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and precious botanical extract which seems somehow to be the source of a social and financial upheaval emanating out from the region. The extract is regarded by some as a commercial product, by others as a scientific or spiritual wonder, and by yet others – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a source of evil; an challenge that must be eradicated. The dilemma of where it comes from, its meaning, and whether it should be destroyed or preserved is escalating in importance.
As in His Dark Materials, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran largely in side by side. In this final book, they come together. As in the first trilogy, the protagonist's choices and her destiny are shown to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the world. Her personal mission to reconnect with her companion and regain her vision becomes the central conflict in a wider conflict with an authoritarian regime which, as these systems always have, is attempting to suppress freedom of thought, originality and culture: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The book starts with the finding of a set of curious openings in the structure of the planet's sky: windows that seem to open into other worlds. One such opening appears to be the source of the highly contested rose oil. The Magisterium, with its leader at its helm, labels these windows as a problem to the church's orthodoxy and aims to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to move from inflexible rationalism and revert to instinct, yet, her conviction that these locations must be protected – that what they stand for and what they provide is somehow essential – increases. "The substance, or the substance, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a philosophical tussle between purity and experience is set.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
