Things are collapsing in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a world that manifests, here more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reassembling themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from authorities, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "An element is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and strong are weakening and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Just what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that drives The Rose Field, which continues where the previous book concluded. This is, by all accounts, the author's concluding foray into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting realm he first revealed three decades past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose geography aligns with that of the real world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are joined by external spirits, beings in creature form; where the skies are populated with witches and gryphons, but below, vehicles are taken and tea is sipped, and middle-aged academics carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still distinctly the prickly and persistent main character of the earlier books, but older, sadder, warier, less certain. This restraint is amplified by her division from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to depart in search of that innocent part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which followed the protagonist undertake a wandering trek across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and peril on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the church's governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of strict, administrative evil – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's relative, who blames her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the role of leader of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his fresh authority to expand the institution's control. Another protagonist, who saved young Lyra to refuge along a overflowing river as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to the city to learn more about the antagonist's aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and precious rose oil which manifests in some way to be the cause of a social and economic crisis emanating out from the region. The substance is seen by certain groups as a tradeable good, by different parties as a empirical or esoteric miracle, and by further factions – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a wellspring of evil; an affront that must be destroyed. The question of its source, what it stands for, and if it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.
As in the original trilogy, our protagonist's actions, and her destiny, are shown to be inseparably connected with the fate of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran mostly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they converge. Similar to the original series, Lyra's choices and her destiny are shown to be deeply linked with the future of the universe. Her personal quest to reconnect with her companion and regain her imagination becomes the key struggle in a broader war with an authoritarian regime which, as these systems always have, is striving to quell autonomy of thinking, creativity and art: all the inner, rebellious ways in which humans can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The novel opens with the finding of a collection of curious cracks in the makeup of the Earth's sky: portals that look to give on to different dimensions. A particular window seems to be the source of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its leadership, classifies these portals as a challenge to the church's beliefs and sets out to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from inflexible rationalism and return to feeling, nevertheless, her certainty that these locations must be protected – that their significance and what they offer is mysteriously crucial – grows. "The substance, or the substance, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a Blakean tussle between purity and maturity is set.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
