Things are falling apart in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that appears, here more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is draining from states, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the grasp of rioters. "Something is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and durable are weakening and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that drives The Rose Field, which continues where its predecessor concluded. This is, according to many, the author's last venture into the elaborately built, deeply captivating realm he first introduced three decades past, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose geography maps on to that of our world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people appear and think and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, souls in creature form; where the skies are filled with enchantresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, buses are caught and beverages is sipped, and mature academics carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a adult: still clearly the sharp and tenacious main character of the prior volumes, but aged, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This circumscription is amplified by her split from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to depart in quest of that innocent part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an quality which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with marvel and danger on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in play, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the church's ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister representation of rigid, bureaucratic malice – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. The antagonist – the heroine's relative, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of president of the church's governing body, and is determined on using his fresh influence to extend the church's rule. Another protagonist, who rescued young Lyra to security along a swollen river as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is assigned to the city to discover more about Delamare's intentions. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and costly botanical extract which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a societal and economic crisis rippling out from that area. The extract is viewed by certain groups as a tradeable good, by others as a empirical or spiritual phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an challenge that must be destroyed. The question of its source, its meaning, and whether it should be destroyed or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the original trilogy, the heroine's actions, and her fate, are shown to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran broadly in side by side. In the conclusion, they merge. Similar to the original series, the protagonist's choices and her path are shown to be deeply linked with the destiny of the universe. Her private quest to reconnect with her daemon and rediscover her vision becomes the central conflict in a wider war with an oppressive government which, as such authorities often attempt, is seeking to quell freedom of thinking, originality and art: all the personal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The story starts with the finding of a set of curious fissures in the fabric of the world's air: windows that seem to open into other worlds. One such portal appears to be the origin of the highly contested botanical substance. The Magisterium, with its leader at its head, labels these portals as a threat to the religion's beliefs and sets out to destroy them. As Lyra begins to turn away from strict logic and return to instinct, nevertheless, her conviction that these sites must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is mysteriously essential – grows. "The substance, or the extract, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a poetic struggle between naivety and knowledge is set.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
