Tings are unraveling in the last installment of The Book of Dust, the second of the author's masterful trilogies set in a universe that manifests, here more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An unseen 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 pooling in the halls of theocrats, the treasuries of business empires, the grasp of rioters. "An element is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and strong are deteriorating and failing."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Exactly what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that propels the concluding book, which resumes where the previous book ended. This is, according to many, Pullman's last foray into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating realm he first introduced three decades past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose landscape maps on to that of our world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are paired by external spirits, beings in creature form; where the skies are teeming with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but below, transports are caught and tea is drunk, and mature scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a young girl 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 the series, is now a young woman: still distinctly the spiky and determined main character of the earlier books, but older, melancholic, more careful, more doubtful. This limitation is heightened by her division from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to go off in quest of that innocent part of her which she appears to have shed (an quality which he represents as her "imagination"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw the protagonist undertake a wandering voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister embodiment of rigid, procedural wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the role of leader of the church's High Council, and is intent on using his newfound influence to broaden the religion's control. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued young the heroine to safety along a swollen river as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to the city to find out more about the antagonist's aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and precious rose oil which appears mysteriously to be the source of a social and economic crisis emanating out from Central Asia. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a tradeable commodity, by others as a research-based or spiritual phenomenon, and by yet others – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a source of evil; an affront that must be eradicated. The issue of where it comes from, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is becoming urgent.
Like the first series, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are shown to be deeply connected with the destiny of the realm
In the previous volume, these plots ran broadly in side by side. In The Rose Field, they come together. Like the first trilogy, her choices and her fate are revealed to be deeply linked with the future of the realm. Her private quest to reunite with her daemon and regain her creativity becomes the key conflict in a larger battle with an authoritarian regime which, as such regimes often attempt, is striving to quell freedom of reason, innovation and expression: all the inner, defiant ways in which individuals can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The novel begins with the unveiling of a set of curious fissures in the structure of the planet's sky: gateways that seem to lead to alternate realities. A particular opening appears to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its leadership, classifies these windows as a problem to the religion's beliefs and sets out to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from strict rationalism and back to feeling, yet, her conviction that these locations must be protected – that their meaning and their value is in some way essential – grows. "The substance, or rose oil, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a philosophical conflict between innocence and experience is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the