Things are falling apart in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that appears, now more than ever, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from states, and pooling in the halls of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the control of mobs. "Some force is at work, very quietly, gradually", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and solid are deteriorating and failing."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that animates The Rose Field, which continues where the previous book ended. This is, according to many, the author's last foray into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating universe he first unveiled three decades past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose geography corresponds to that of the real world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals appear and think and act like us, but are joined by daemons, essences in beast form; where the skies are filled with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, vehicles are taken and tea is drunk, and middle-aged academics carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still distinctly the spiky and tenacious main character of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, more cautious, more doubtful. This limitation is heightened by her division from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to depart in quest of that innocent part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an trait which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a wandering trek across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with marvel and danger on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the church's ruling body, and the author's masterfully eerie incarnation of strict, administrative wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's relative, who faults her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of president of the authority's High Council, and is set on using his fresh influence to broaden the church's rule. Another protagonist, who carried infant Lyra to safety along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an academic with a secondary role in spycraft: he is assigned to the city to find out more about his intentions. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and precious botanical extract which appears mysteriously to be the cause of a societal and financial crisis rippling out from Central Asia. The extract is viewed by various factions as a tradeable commodity, by others as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by further factions – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a source of darkness; an insult that must be destroyed. The question of its source, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or preserved is escalating in importance.
Like the original trilogy, the heroine's actions, and her future, are shown to be inextricably linked with the fate of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran broadly in side by side. In the conclusion, they merge. Like His Dark Materials, her actions and her fate are revealed to be inseparably linked with the fate of the realm. Her private journey to reunite with her companion and recover her vision becomes the primary conflict in a larger battle with an oppressive system which, as these systems always have, is striving to quell independence of reason, creativity and expression: all the internal, resistant ways in which humans can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The book starts with the discovery of a collection of strange cracks in the structure of the world's atmosphere: gateways that seem to open into alternate realities. One such portal appears to be the origin of the much debated botanical substance. The authority, with its leader at its head, designates these openings as a challenge to the institution's doctrine and aims to destroy them. As Lyra begins to turn away from strict rationalism and revert to feeling, however, her belief that these locations must be protected – that their meaning and their value is in some way essential – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a Blakean conflict between naivety and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
