Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is draining from governments, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the hands of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and solid are deteriorating and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that drives The Rose Field, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding excursion into the elaborately built, deeply captivating universe he first unveiled three decades past, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose landscape aligns with that of our world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and act like us, but are joined by external spirits, beings in beast form; where the skies are filled with enchantresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, vehicles are caught and beverages is drunk, and mature academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in the prequel, the introductory book with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still clearly the prickly and determined heroine of the prior volumes, but more mature, melancholic, warier, more doubtful. This circumscription is heightened by her split from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to depart in quest of that innocent part of her which she may have forgotten (an quality which he represents as her "imagination"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which saw the protagonist undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with wonder and peril on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the religious governing authority, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister representation of strict, bureaucratic evil – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's family member, who blames her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of head of the Magisterium's High Council, and is determined on using his fresh influence to extend the church's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who carried young Lyra to safety along a flooded river as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a secondary role in spycraft: he is dispatched to Geneva to learn more about the antagonist's aims. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and valuable rose oil which seems mysteriously to be the cause of a social and economic crisis spreading out from Central Asia. The oil is regarded by various factions as a commercial good, by different parties as a research-based or spiritual phenomenon, and by others still – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of darkness; an insult that must be obliterated. The issue of its source, its meaning, and whether it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.
Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's decisions, and her destiny, are shown to be inextricably linked with the destiny of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran broadly in side by side. In this final book, they come together. Like His Dark Materials, the protagonist's actions and her destiny are revealed to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the universe. Her personal journey to rejoin with her soul and rediscover her creativity becomes the key struggle in a wider war with an authoritarian government which, as such regimes typically do, is striving to stifle independence of reason, originality and culture: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The book begins with the discovery of a collection of curious fissures in the fabric of the world's air: gateways that look to open into different dimensions. An example of a portal appears to be the point of the much debated botanical substance. The authority, with the antagonist at its leadership, classifies these portals as a threat to the church's beliefs and endeavors to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from rigid rationalism and revert to feeling, nevertheless, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that their meaning and what they offer is in some way crucial – strengthens. "Dust, or the substance, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a Blakean conflict between naivety and experience is established.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
