Things are unraveling in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that manifests, here more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along new and troubling lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from governments, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, silently, very subtly", says merchant a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Things we thought were secure and solid are deteriorating and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that animates the concluding book, which picks up where the previous book left off. This is, reportedly, the author's final excursion into the elaborately built, deeply captivating universe he first revealed 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose geography aligns with that of our world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and think and act like us, but are paired by daemons, essences in beast form; where the skies are teeming with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, vehicles are caught and drinks is consumed, and older professors carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still recognisably the spiky and determined heroine of the earlier books, but more mature, sadder, more cautious, more doubtful. This limitation is heightened by her split from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to depart in search of that youthful part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with wonder and peril on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the church's governing authority, and the author's brilliantly sinister representation of rigid, procedural malice – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the office of head of the authority's ruling assembly, and is set on using his newfound power to extend the church's rule. A key character, who rescued infant Lyra to security along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is dispatched to a key location to learn more about his aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and precious rose oil which seems somehow to be the cause of a social and economic disturbance rippling out from that area. The extract is regarded by some as a commercial product, by others as a empirical or esoteric phenomenon, and by yet others – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an insult that must be eradicated. The issue of where it comes from, its significance, and whether it should be destroyed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Similar to His Dark Materials, the heroine's actions, and her future, are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the universe
In its predecessor, these plots ran mostly in tandem. In the conclusion, they converge. As in the original series, the protagonist's choices and her destiny are shown to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the realm. Her individual journey to reconnect with her soul and recover her vision becomes the key conflict in a wider war with an oppressive system which, as such regimes often attempt, is striving to stifle independence of reason, creativity and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The book begins with the discovery of a set of strange cracks in the makeup of the planet's sky: windows that look to give on to alternate realities. One such window seems to be the point of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The authority, with Delamare at its head, classifies these windows as a threat to the religion's orthodoxy and aims to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to shift from rigid rationalism and return to feeling, nevertheless, her conviction that these locations must be defended – that their meaning and what they provide is somehow crucial – grows. "The substance, or rose oil, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a poetic struggle between innocence and maturity is established.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
