Things are collapsing in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the next of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a world that seems, now more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or restructuring themselves along novel and troubling lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is draining from governments, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of business empires, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says trader a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and durable are weakening and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that propels The Rose Field, which picks up where the previous book left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's final excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose geography aligns with that of the real world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the people appear and think and behave like us, but are paired by external spirits, essences in creature form; where the heavens are teeming with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but below, vehicles are caught and beverages is drunk, and older professors carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a child in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the first volume, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still clearly the prickly and tenacious protagonist of the prior volumes, but more mature, melancholic, more careful, less certain. This circumscription is amplified by her separation from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to go off in quest of that innocent part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which chronicled Lyra undertake a wandering journey across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with wonder and peril on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister representation of strict, administrative wickedness – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the position of president of the Magisterium's governing body, and is intent on using his recently acquired influence to expand the religion's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who carried young the heroine to refuge along a swollen Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an academic with a secondary role in spycraft: he is dispatched to the city to learn more about Delamare's aims. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and costly essential oil which appears in some way to be the cause of a social and economic upheaval spreading out from the region. The extract is seen by certain groups as a marketable good, by others as a research-based or esoteric phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of evil; an insult that must be obliterated. The dilemma of where it comes from, what it stands for, and whether it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.
Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's deeds, and her fate, are shown to be inseparably connected with the destiny of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran broadly in parallel. In The Rose Field, they come together. Like His Dark Materials, her choices and her path are unveiled to be deeply entwined with the future of the realm. Her personal quest to rejoin with her companion and recover her vision becomes the primary struggle in a larger conflict with an controlling government which, as these systems always have, is striving to quell autonomy of reason, creativity and expression: all the inner, resistant ways in which individuals can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The novel opens with the finding of a collection of curious openings in the fabric of the Earth's air: gateways that appear to open into other worlds. One such opening seems to be the source of the highly contested rose oil. The authority, with its leader at its head, labels these openings as a threat to the religion's doctrine and sets out to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to shift from rigid reason and return to instinct, however, her certainty that these sites must be preserved – that their meaning and their value is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we call it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a poetic conflict between purity and maturity is established.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
