Things are collapsing in the last installment of The Book of Dust, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that appears, in this volume especially, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from authorities, and gathering in the halls of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the hands of crowds. "An element is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and strong are deteriorating and failing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Precisely what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that drives The Rose Field, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's last foray into the elaborately built, deeply captivating world he first unveiled in the distant past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose landscape aligns with that of our world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and reason and behave like us, but are paired by external spirits, souls in beast form; where the skies are filled with sorceresses and gryphons, but underneath, vehicles are caught and tea is consumed, and older scholars carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a child in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still clearly the sharp and determined main character of the prior volumes, but more mature, sadder, more cautious, less sure. This circumscription is heightened by her division from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to depart in search of that youthful part of her which she seems to have lost (an trait which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which chronicled Lyra undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with wonder and danger on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in action, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of austere, bureaucratic malice – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's uncle, who faults her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the office of president of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his fresh authority to expand the institution's rule. A key character, who saved young Lyra to safety along a swollen Thames as an child in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in spycraft: he is sent to Geneva to discover more about his aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious rose oil which seems mysteriously to be the origin of a social and financial disturbance spreading out from the region. The extract is seen by various factions as a commercial good, by others as a empirical or mystical phenomenon, and by further factions – the zealous "highland figures" – as a origin of malevolence; an challenge that must be obliterated. The issue of its origins, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the original trilogy, our protagonist's deeds, and her destiny, are shown to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran broadly in parallel. In the conclusion, they come together. Similar to the first trilogy, Lyra's actions and her destiny are unveiled to be inextricably woven with the fate of the realm. Her personal journey to reunite with her companion and recover her vision becomes the key struggle in a larger battle with an oppressive regime which, as these systems often attempt, is attempting to suppress independence of thinking, creativity and culture: all the personal, resistant ways in which humans can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The book starts with the finding of a series of unusual fissures in the makeup of the world's atmosphere: portals that look to open into alternate realities. A particular window seems to be the origin of the much debated rose oil. The Magisterium, with its leader at its head, labels these openings as a challenge to the institution's orthodoxy and endeavors to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict rationalism and back to intuition, yet, her belief that these places must be preserved – that their meaning and what they offer is somehow essential – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a poetic tussle between innocence and maturity is prepared.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
