Things are falling apart in the last installment of The Book of Dust, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a realm that appears, here more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Institutions are failing, or reassembling themselves along new and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from states, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of conglomerates, the hands of mobs. "Something is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and solid are faltering and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that drives this final volume, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, according to many, the author's final excursion into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting realm he first unveiled in the distant past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose landscape corresponds to that of this world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans look and reason and behave like us, but are paired by daemons, essences in beast form; where the skies are populated with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are taken and beverages is consumed, and older academics carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a child in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still distinctly the sharp and persistent heroine of the earlier books, but more mature, sadder, warier, less sure. This circumscription is amplified by her separation from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger 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 Lyra 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 saw Lyra undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with amazement and risk on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in action, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the religious ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, bureaucratic malice – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. The antagonist – our protagonist's relative, who blames her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the church's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his recently acquired power to broaden the religion's dominium. A key character, who carried baby Lyra to safety along a swollen river as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in espionage: he is assigned to a key location to learn more about his plans. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and precious essential oil which manifests mysteriously to be the source of a social and economic crisis rippling out from the region. The oil is seen by certain groups as a tradeable product, by others as a scientific or spiritual miracle, and by others still – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a origin of darkness; an challenge that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its origins, what it stands for, and if it should be eliminated or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
Similar to His Dark Materials, the heroine's deeds, and her future, are demonstrated to be inseparably connected with the fate of the world
In the previous volume, these storylines ran mostly in side by side. In the conclusion, they come together. As in His Dark Materials, the protagonist's movements and her fate are unveiled to be inseparably linked with the future of the world. Her personal quest to reunite with her soul and rediscover her imagination becomes the central struggle in a wider conflict with an authoritarian system which, as such authorities often attempt, is striving to suppress freedom of thought, innovation and expression: all the personal, rebellious ways in which people can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The story begins with the discovery of a set of curious cracks in the structure of the world's sky: gateways that seem to open into different dimensions. An example of a window appears to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its helm, classifies these windows as a challenge to the religion's doctrine and endeavors to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict rationalism and return to intuition, yet, her conviction that these sites must be preserved – that what they stand for and what they offer is in some way essential – strengthens. "The substance, or the substance, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a poetic conflict between innocence and maturity is set.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
