Tings are unraveling in the last installment of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that appears, here more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along new and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from authorities, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the treasuries of corporations, the control of rioters. "Some force is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and strong are deteriorating and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that drives The Rose Field, which resumes where its predecessor concluded. This is, by all accounts, the author's concluding excursion into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting realm he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose landscape aligns with that of this world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and think and behave like us, but are paired by external spirits, beings in animal form; where the skies are teeming with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are ridden and tea is consumed, and older scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a child in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the first volume, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still recognisably the spiky and tenacious heroine of the earlier books, but more mature, melancholic, more careful, more doubtful. This limitation is intensified by her split from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to leave in quest of that childlike part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he represents as her "vision"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with marvel and risk on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of austere, bureaucratic malice – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. The antagonist – Lyra's family member, who faults her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the office of head of the church's governing body, and is intent on using his recently acquired influence to extend the religion's control. Malcolm Polstead, who carried baby Lyra to refuge along a flooded Thames as an child in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is sent to a key location to find out more about Delamare's aims. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and precious essential oil which appears somehow to be the origin of a societal and financial upheaval rippling out from Central Asia. The oil is regarded by certain groups as a commercial good, by alternate groups as a research-based or spiritual miracle, and by yet others – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of evil; an affront that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its origins, its significance, and if it should be eliminated or preserved is escalating in importance.
Similar to His Dark Materials, our protagonist's deeds, and her future, are revealed to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the universe
In its predecessor, these plots ran broadly in side by side. In The Rose Field, they converge. As in the first trilogy, the protagonist's choices and her fate are revealed to be deeply entwined with the future of the universe. Her private journey to reunite with her companion and rediscover her vision becomes the central conflict in a wider battle with an oppressive system which, as these systems often attempt, is attempting to quell autonomy of reason, creativity and expression: all the inner, resistant ways in which humans can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The novel begins with the unveiling of a series of strange fissures in the makeup of the planet's atmosphere: gateways that appear to open into other worlds. An example of a portal appears to be the origin of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its leadership, labels these portals as a problem to the religion's doctrine and aims to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to move from rigid reason and revert to feeling, yet, her certainty that these places must be defended – that their significance and what they offer is mysteriously essential – strengthens. "The substance, or the substance, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a philosophical tussle between naivety and maturity is set.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the