Tings are collapsing in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that manifests, now more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and troubling lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from states, and gathering in the offices of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and durable are weakening and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Just what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that drives this final volume, which resumes where its predecessor left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's concluding excursion into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling universe he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose landscape aligns with that of the real world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the people appear and reason and act like us, but are joined by daemons, beings in creature form; where the skies are populated with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, buses are ridden and tea is drunk, and mature professors carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still clearly the spiky and persistent main character of the prior volumes, but aged, melancholic, more cautious, less certain. This circumscription is intensified by her split from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to depart in quest of that childlike part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an quality which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed Lyra undertake a wandering journey across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and peril on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, procedural wickedness – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the role of president of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his newfound influence to extend the institution's dominium. Another protagonist, who rescued young Lyra to safety along a overflowing river as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is dispatched to a key location to learn more about his plans. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and costly essential oil which appears in some way to be the origin of a social and economic disturbance rippling out from that area. The oil is viewed by various factions as a tradeable product, by others as a scientific or spiritual miracle, and by further factions – the zealous "highland figures" – as a origin of darkness; an challenge that must be destroyed. The question of its origins, what it stands for, and if it should be removed or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
As in the original trilogy, the heroine's deeds, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be deeply linked with the future of the universe
In the previous volume, these plots ran mostly in side by side. In The Rose Field, they converge. As in the original series, Lyra's movements and her destiny are unveiled to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the world. Her private quest to reunite with her companion and rediscover her vision becomes the central struggle in a wider conflict with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes often attempt, is striving to quell freedom of thinking, creativity and art: all the personal, defiant ways in which people can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The novel opens with the discovery of a set of strange fissures in the fabric of the planet's atmosphere: windows that look to give on to alternate realities. An example of a opening appears to be the source of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The church, with Delamare at its helm, classifies these windows as a threat to the institution's beliefs and aims to destroy them. As Lyra begins to shift from inflexible rationalism and return to feeling, yet, her belief that these locations must be protected – that what they stand for and their value is mysteriously vital – increases. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a philosophical conflict between naivety and experience is established.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
