Things are falling apart in the last installment of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a world that seems, here more than ever, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from authorities, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the coffers of business empires, the hands of rioters. "Something is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and strong are weakening and failing."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Just what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that drives the concluding book, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's last foray into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting realm he first unveiled in the distant past, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose landscape maps on to that of our world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and think and behave like us, but are paired by animal souls, beings in creature form; where the skies are filled with witches and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, transports are taken and drinks is consumed, and older scholars carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still clearly the sharp and persistent protagonist of the earlier books, but more mature, sadder, warier, more doubtful. This restraint is intensified by her split from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to depart in search of that childlike part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which saw the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with wonder and risk on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of austere, bureaucratic malice – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's family member, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the role of president of the church's governing body, and is set on using his fresh influence to extend the religion's rule. Another protagonist, who carried young the heroine to refuge along a swollen river as an young boy in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in spycraft: he is sent to Geneva to learn more about the antagonist's plans. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and valuable essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the source of a societal and economic upheaval spreading out from the region. The extract is viewed by certain groups as a tradeable commodity, by different parties as a research-based or spiritual miracle, and by others still – the extremist "highland figures" – as a wellspring of darkness; an challenge that must be destroyed. The issue of its source, its meaning, and if it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.
Like the first series, our protagonist's actions, and her destiny, are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran mostly in parallel. In The Rose Field, they merge. Similar to His Dark Materials, the protagonist's actions and her path are unveiled to be deeply linked with the fate of the realm. Her individual journey to rejoin with her soul and rediscover her creativity becomes the key conflict in a broader conflict with an authoritarian system which, as such authorities often attempt, is seeking to quell freedom of thought, originality and expression: all the internal, defiant ways in which individuals can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The story begins with the finding of a collection of strange cracks in the makeup of the Earth's sky: windows that look to open into other worlds. A particular opening seems to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The authority, with the antagonist at its leadership, classifies these windows as a threat to the church's doctrine and sets out to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from rigid logic and back to feeling, however, her belief that these places must be defended – that what they stand for and what they provide is somehow essential – grows. "The substance, or the substance, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a Blakean tussle between naivety and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
