Things are collapsing in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or restructuring themselves along novel and troubling lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is draining from authorities, and pooling in the offices of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the hands of rioters. "An element is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says trader a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the Silk Roads from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and durable are deteriorating and giving way."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Just what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that animates this final volume, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's final venture into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling universe he first introduced three decades past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose landscape aligns with that of our world, but whose history veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, beings in animal form; where the air are teeming with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are taken and drinks is drunk, and mature professors carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still recognisably the spiky and persistent protagonist of the earlier books, but older, melancholic, more cautious, more doubtful. This limitation is intensified by her separation from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to go off in search of that youthful part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an trait which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in action, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the religious ruling body, and the author's deliciously chilling representation of austere, procedural wickedness – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. The antagonist – the heroine's family member, who holds responsible her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of leader of the authority's governing body, and is intent on using his recently acquired influence to expand the religion's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued young Lyra to refuge along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in spycraft: he is assigned to the city to learn more about his aims. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and valuable essential oil which seems in some way to be the cause of a social and economic crisis spreading out from the region. The oil is regarded by some as a commercial product, by different parties as a scientific or mystical phenomenon, and by others still – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of evil; an challenge that must be eradicated. The issue of its source, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or protected is becoming urgent.
Similar to His Dark Materials, our protagonist's decisions, and her destiny, are shown to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran broadly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they merge. Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions and her fate are revealed to be inextricably woven with the destiny of the world. Her private mission to reunite with her daemon and rediscover her imagination becomes the central conflict in a larger conflict with an controlling regime which, as these systems always have, is seeking to suppress freedom of thinking, creativity and expression: all the internal, resistant ways in which individuals can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The story begins with the unveiling of a collection of unusual cracks in the structure of the planet's air: portals that seem to open into different dimensions. An example of a opening appears to be the source of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The Magisterium, with its leader at its head, labels these windows as a threat to the church's doctrine and sets out to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict reason and return to instinct, however, her conviction that these sites must be defended – that what they stand for and what they provide is mysteriously vital – grows. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a Blakean tussle between innocence and maturity is set.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
