Things are falling apart in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that appears, in this volume especially, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is draining from states, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of corporations, the hands of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, gradually", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and strong are weakening and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that animates the concluding book, which picks up where its predecessor concluded. This is, reportedly, Pullman's last venture into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling world he first revealed three decades past, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose terrain maps on to that of this world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans look and reason and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, souls in beast form; where the heavens are filled with witches and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, vehicles are ridden and drinks is sipped, and mature professors carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began the series, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the prickly and determined heroine of the previous installments, but aged, more sorrowful, more careful, more doubtful. This limitation is amplified by her split from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to leave in quest of that youthful part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque journey across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in action, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister embodiment of rigid, bureaucratic malice – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's relative, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the authority's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his recently acquired power to expand the religion's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued young the heroine to refuge along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an academic with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is assigned to a key location to learn more about the antagonist's plans. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and valuable botanical extract which manifests somehow to be the source of a societal and financial upheaval spreading out from the region. The oil is viewed by some as a tradeable commodity, by different parties as a scientific or esoteric phenomenon, and by further factions – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a source of evil; an challenge that must be obliterated. The issue of where it comes from, its significance, and whether it should be removed or protected is escalating in importance.
Like the original trilogy, our protagonist's decisions, and her future, are shown to be inextricably connected with the destiny of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in parallel. In The Rose Field, they merge. As in the first trilogy, the protagonist's choices and her fate are shown to be deeply linked with the fate of the universe. Her private journey to reconnect with her soul and recover her creativity becomes the primary conflict in a wider battle with an oppressive government which, as such regimes always have, is attempting to stifle autonomy of thinking, innovation and art: all the internal, rebellious ways in which humans can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The book begins with the finding of a collection of unusual cracks in the fabric of the Earth's air: windows that appear to lead to alternate realities. One such portal appears to be the point of the much debated rose oil. The authority, with its leader at its leadership, designates these windows as a challenge to the institution's doctrine and endeavors to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to move from rigid logic and back to instinct, yet, her conviction that these places must be preserved – that what they stand for and what they offer is mysteriously vital – grows. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a Blakean struggle between purity and knowledge is established.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
