Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that seems, here more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from governments, and gathering in the halls of religious leaders, the coffers of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "An element is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and strong are weakening and failing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that propels The Rose Field, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, reportedly, the author's final excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting universe he first unveiled three decades past, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a world whose terrain aligns with that of our world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are joined by daemons, beings in creature form; where the skies are populated with enchantresses and gryphons, but underneath, vehicles are taken and tea is sipped, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a adult: still recognisably the prickly and persistent heroine of the prior volumes, but aged, more sorrowful, more cautious, more doubtful. This restraint is intensified by her separation from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to leave in search of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque journey across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and danger on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the church's governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of strict, bureaucratic wickedness – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's family member, who faults her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the Magisterium's High Council, and is intent on using his fresh influence to extend the institution's rule. A key character, who rescued baby the heroine to security along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to a key location to find out more about Delamare's plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and precious botanical extract which manifests somehow to be the source of a social and economic disturbance spreading out from Central Asia. The extract is viewed by some as a tradeable good, by others as a empirical or spiritual wonder, and by yet others – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an affront that must be obliterated. The question of its origins, its meaning, and whether it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.
Like the first series, our protagonist's actions, and her future, are revealed to be inseparably linked with the future of the world
In the previous volume, these storylines ran mostly in parallel. In The Rose Field, they converge. Similar to His Dark Materials, the protagonist's choices and her fate are shown to be inextricably woven with the fate of the world. Her personal journey to reconnect with her companion and regain her imagination becomes the key battleground in a wider war with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes typically do, is seeking to quell autonomy of thinking, creativity and culture: all the internal, defiant ways in which humans can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The book begins with the unveiling of a collection of unusual openings in the fabric of the Earth's sky: windows that look to give on to alternate realities. A particular opening appears to be the point of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its leadership, classifies these openings as a threat to the religion's beliefs and endeavors to destroy them. As Lyra begins to turn away from strict logic and return to feeling, yet, her certainty that these places must be protected – that what they stand for and their value is mysteriously crucial – increases. "The substance, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or whatever we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a Blakean tussle between naivety and maturity is established.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
