Things are falling apart in the last installment of The Book of Dust, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that appears, now more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or restructuring themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from states, and gathering in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the hands of mobs. "Something is at work, stealthily, gradually", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and durable are deteriorating and giving way."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Exactly what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that drives The Rose Field, which continues where the previous book ended. This is, reportedly, the author's concluding venture into the carefully crafted, infinitely beguiling universe he first revealed in the distant past, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose landscape corresponds to that of the real world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the people appear and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by daemons, beings in animal form; where the skies are filled with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but below, buses are taken and drinks is consumed, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still recognisably the spiky and determined protagonist of the earlier books, but older, melancholic, warier, less sure. This restraint is intensified by her separation from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to depart in pursuit of that innocent part of her which she appears to have shed (an quality which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which chronicled Lyra undertake a wandering journey across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and risk on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of strict, administrative malice – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's family member, who blames her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the office of leader of the authority's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his recently acquired influence to expand the religion's control. Malcolm Polstead, who saved young the heroine to security along a swollen river as an child in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in spycraft: he is sent to a key location to learn more about his aims. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and costly botanical extract which appears in some way to be the origin of a societal and financial disturbance rippling out from the region. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a marketable good, by different parties as a scientific or mystical phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a origin of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of where it comes from, what it stands for, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Similar to the first series, the heroine's deeds, and her fate, are revealed to be inextricably linked with the fate of the realm
In its predecessor, these plots ran mostly in parallel. In this final book, they converge. Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's choices and her destiny are unveiled to be inseparably woven with the fate of the world. Her individual quest to reunite with her companion and recover her creativity becomes the primary struggle in a broader conflict with an oppressive system which, as these systems typically do, is attempting to suppress independence of reason, innovation and expression: all the internal, defiant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The book begins with the unveiling of a set of strange fissures in the structure of the planet's sky: windows that appear to open into other worlds. A particular opening appears to be the origin of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its leadership, designates these windows as a challenge to the religion's beliefs and aims to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from strict rationalism and revert to instinct, nevertheless, her certainty that these locations must be protected – that their significance and what they provide is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "The substance, or the extract, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a philosophical conflict between naivety and experience is set.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the