Tings are unraveling in the last installment of The Book of Dust, the second of the author's masterful trilogies set in a world that appears, in this volume especially, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along novel and troubling lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from authorities, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the control of mobs. "Some force is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an city cafe. "Things we thought were secure and solid are weakening and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path
Exactly what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that animates The Rose Field, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, according to many, the author's last venture into the carefully crafted, infinitely beguiling realm he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose terrain maps on to that of the real world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are joined by daemons, essences in animal form; where the heavens are populated with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, transports are ridden and tea is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a adult: still distinctly the spiky and tenacious main character of the prior volumes, but more mature, more sorrowful, more careful, less sure. This limitation is amplified by her division from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to depart in search of that childlike part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, facing with amazement and danger on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the church's governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie incarnation of strict, bureaucratic evil – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the Magisterium's High Council, and is determined on using his fresh power to broaden the church's control. Another protagonist, who carried infant Lyra to safety along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an academic with a sideline in intelligence work: he is assigned to the city to find out more about the antagonist's intentions. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious rose oil which appears somehow to be the source of a societal and financial crisis emanating out from that area. The substance is regarded by various factions as a marketable product, by others as a research-based or esoteric wonder, and by others still – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an affront that must be eradicated. The issue of where it comes from, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or protected is escalating in importance.
As in the first series, Lyra's decisions, and her destiny, are shown to be inextricably linked with the future of the universe
In the previous volume, these plots ran broadly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they come together. As in the first trilogy, the protagonist's actions and her fate are unveiled to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the universe. Her private quest to reunite with her companion and recover her vision becomes the central battleground in a wider battle with an controlling government which, as these systems often attempt, is striving to suppress autonomy of thinking, originality and culture: all the personal, defiant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The story opens with the discovery of a series of strange openings in the fabric of the Earth's air: portals that seem to lead to alternate realities. An example of a window seems to be the source of the highly contested rose oil. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its leadership, classifies these windows as a threat to the church's beliefs and aims to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to move from strict logic and back to instinct, yet, her conviction that these places must be preserved – that what they stand for and their value is in some way crucial – grows. "The substance, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or whatever we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a Blakean tussle between innocence and maturity is set.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
