Tings are falling apart in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a universe that manifests, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or restructuring themselves along new and troubling lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is draining from states, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the coffers of business empires, the grasp of rioters. "An element is at work, very quietly, gradually", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and solid are deteriorating and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Exactly what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that animates The Rose Field, which continues where its predecessor concluded. This is, reportedly, Pullman's last foray into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose geography aligns with that of the real world, but whose history veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and think and act like us, but are accompanied by daemons, beings in animal form; where the skies are populated with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, transports are ridden and tea is drunk, and older scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a child in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the prequel, the prequel with which the author began the series, is now a adult: still recognisably the prickly and persistent heroine of the prior volumes, but older, sadder, more cautious, more doubtful. This limitation is intensified by her separation from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to depart in quest of that innocent part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an quality which he represents as her "creativity"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which saw the protagonist undertake a adventurous journey across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and danger on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in play, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of austere, administrative evil – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's uncle, who faults her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of president of the church's High Council, and is intent on using his newfound authority to broaden the church's control. Malcolm Polstead, who saved young the heroine to security along a swollen Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in intelligence work: he is dispatched to Geneva to learn more about Delamare's aims. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and costly rose oil which manifests somehow to be the cause of a societal and financial disturbance spreading out from the region. The oil is regarded by some as a commercial commodity, by alternate groups as a scientific or esoteric phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an affront that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its source, its meaning, and whether it should be destroyed or preserved is escalating in importance.
Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions, and her fate, are shown to be deeply entwined with the future of the universe
In the previous volume, these plots ran mostly in parallel. In this final book, they converge. Similar to the original series, her choices and her destiny are shown to be inseparably entwined with the future of the universe. Her individual mission to reconnect with her soul and rediscover her imagination becomes the central battleground in a broader war with an oppressive government which, as these systems always have, is striving to suppress freedom of reason, creativity and culture: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The book begins with the discovery of a set of strange fissures in the fabric of the Earth's air: gateways that appear to lead to other worlds. One such opening appears to be the point of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The church, with the antagonist at its head, designates these windows as a threat to the institution's orthodoxy and aims to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict reason and return to feeling, however, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that what they stand for and their value is in some way crucial – strengthens. "The substance, or the extract, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a Blakean struggle between innocence and knowledge is established.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
