Tings are unraveling in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the second of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from authorities, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the hands of crowds. "Some force is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and strong are weakening and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Just what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that propels The Rose Field, which picks up where the previous book concluded. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's last foray into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting realm he first introduced three decades past, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose landscape aligns with that of this world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are paired by daemons, souls in creature form; where the skies are filled with witches and gryphons, but underneath, transports are taken and beverages is consumed, and older academics carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a child in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still recognisably the spiky and determined main character of the prior volumes, but more mature, more sorrowful, warier, more doubtful. This limitation is intensified by her division from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to leave in pursuit of that innocent part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an trait which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and danger on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister embodiment of rigid, procedural malice – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's family member, who faults her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the role of leader of the church's High Council, and is intent on using his recently acquired authority to expand the institution's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who carried baby the heroine to security along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is assigned to the city to find out more about the antagonist's aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and costly essential oil which seems in some way to be the cause of a societal and economic crisis emanating out from the region. The substance is viewed by various factions as a commercial product, by alternate groups as a scientific or esoteric miracle, and by others still – the zealous "highland figures" – as a source of malevolence; an challenge that must be eradicated. The question of where it comes from, what it stands for, and if it should be destroyed or protected is escalating in importance.
Like the first series, our protagonist's deeds, and her fate, are demonstrated to be inextricably connected with the future of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran broadly in parallel. In The Rose Field, they merge. Similar to the original series, Lyra's choices and her destiny are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the universe. Her private quest to reconnect with her soul and recover her vision becomes the key struggle in a broader conflict with an controlling regime which, as these systems typically do, is seeking to quell autonomy of reason, creativity and culture: all the internal, defiant ways in which humans can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The story starts with the unveiling of a collection of curious openings in the fabric of the planet's air: gateways that look to give on to other worlds. One such window seems to be the origin of the highly contested rose oil. The authority, with its leader at its leadership, classifies these portals as a threat to the institution's beliefs and endeavors to destroy them. As the heroine begins to shift from strict reason and revert to intuition, nevertheless, her certainty that these sites must be protected – that what they stand for and their value is somehow essential – grows. "Dust, or the extract, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a poetic struggle between innocence and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
