Things are falling apart in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that manifests, in this volume especially, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from states, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the treasuries of corporations, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, silently, very subtly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his place in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and strong are weakening and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Precisely what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that propels this final volume, which resumes where its predecessor ended. This is, according to many, the author's concluding excursion into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating universe he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose landscape aligns with that of this world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the people appear and reason and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, souls in beast form; where the air are filled with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, vehicles are ridden and beverages is consumed, and mature professors carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first met as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the sharp and tenacious heroine of the prior volumes, but older, melancholic, more careful, less certain. This limitation is intensified by her division from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to go off in search of that innocent part of her which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with amazement and danger on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in action, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie incarnation of strict, bureaucratic wickedness – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the office of leader of the Magisterium's High Council, and is intent on using his newfound influence to expand the institution's dominium. Another protagonist, who carried infant the heroine to safety along a swollen Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an academic with a sideline in intelligence work: he is dispatched to the city to learn more about his aims. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and precious botanical extract which appears somehow to be the cause of a societal and economic upheaval rippling out from that area. The extract is viewed by various factions as a tradeable commodity, by different parties as a empirical or spiritual wonder, and by others still – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of malevolence; an affront that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its origins, its significance, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is escalating in importance.
Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's decisions, and her destiny, are shown to be inseparably linked with the future of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran broadly in side by side. In The Rose Field, they converge. Similar to the first trilogy, her movements and her path are unveiled to be inseparably woven with the destiny of the universe. Her private quest to reunite with her daemon and rediscover her creativity becomes the key conflict in a larger war with an authoritarian system which, as such authorities typically do, is seeking to suppress autonomy of thought, innovation and expression: all the personal, resistant ways in which people can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The book opens with the unveiling of a set of unusual cracks in the structure of the planet's air: gateways that seem to give on to other worlds. An example of a opening appears 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 religion's doctrine and aims to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from rigid logic and return to instinct, yet, her belief that these places must be defended – that what they stand for and their value is in some way crucial – grows. "The substance, or the extract, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a poetic struggle between innocence and knowledge is set.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
