Tings are falling apart in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, now more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from states, and pooling in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of business empires, the control of mobs. "An element is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and durable are deteriorating and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that animates The Rose Field, which continues where the previous book ended. This is, reportedly, the author's final venture into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating realm he first introduced in the distant past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose geography aligns with that of our world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, beings in creature form; where the heavens are filled with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, transports are caught and drinks is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the first volume, the origin story with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still clearly the spiky and persistent protagonist of the earlier books, but more mature, melancholic, warier, less certain. This restraint is amplified by her division from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to go off in search of that childlike part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an quality which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with amazement and danger on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in play, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the religious controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of rigid, administrative evil – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's uncle, who blames her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of head of the church's ruling assembly, and is set on using his fresh authority to expand the religion's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued baby Lyra to security along a overflowing river as an young boy in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to Geneva to learn more about the antagonist's intentions. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and precious rose oil which appears mysteriously to be the cause of a social and financial disturbance rippling out from that area. The oil is viewed by various factions as a commercial good, by others as a scientific or spiritual phenomenon, and by others still – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of evil; an insult that must be obliterated. The issue of its source, its significance, and whether it should be destroyed or protected is becoming urgent.
As in the first series, the heroine's deeds, and her fate, are demonstrated to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the universe
In the previous volume, these plots ran largely in side by side. In the conclusion, they converge. Similar to the original series, Lyra's actions and her destiny are revealed to be deeply woven with the fate of the universe. Her individual journey to rejoin with her daemon and recover her imagination becomes the key conflict in a wider conflict with an authoritarian system which, as such regimes often attempt, is attempting to quell freedom of thought, originality and culture: all the internal, rebellious ways in which humans can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The book starts with the finding of a set of strange cracks in the makeup of the world's air: portals that look to open into different dimensions. A particular window manifests to be the source of the highly contested rose oil. The authority, with the antagonist at its head, classifies these portals as a challenge to the church's beliefs and aims to destroy them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict rationalism and revert to intuition, nevertheless, her certainty that these places must be preserved – that their significance and what they provide is somehow crucial – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a poetic conflict between innocence and maturity is established.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
