Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the next of the author's masterful trilogies set in a realm that appears, in this volume especially, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or restructuring themselves along new and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from authorities, and pooling in the offices of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the control of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, gradually", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and durable are deteriorating and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Just what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that drives this final volume, which resumes where the previous book concluded. This is, reportedly, Pullman's concluding venture into the elaborately built, deeply captivating world he first introduced 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography maps on to that of the real world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the people look and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by daemons, beings in beast form; where the heavens are populated with witches and legendary creatures, but below, buses are taken and tea is sipped, and mature scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the prickly and persistent heroine of the prior volumes, but more mature, more sorrowful, more cautious, less sure. This circumscription is heightened by her split from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to go off in search of that innocent part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an trait which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with amazement and risk on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the church's ruling body, and the author's masterfully eerie embodiment of strict, administrative wickedness – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. The antagonist – our protagonist's relative, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of president of the church's High Council, and is set on using his newfound authority to expand the institution's control. A key character, who carried young Lyra to security along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an academic with a sideline in espionage: he is assigned to the city to discover more about his plans. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and precious botanical extract which seems in some way to be the origin of a societal and financial upheaval emanating out from the region. The substance is seen by various factions as a marketable product, by different parties as a scientific or esoteric phenomenon, and by further factions – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of darkness; an challenge that must be destroyed. The question of its source, its significance, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is escalating in importance.
Like the first series, our protagonist's decisions, and her future, are demonstrated to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran largely in tandem. In The Rose Field, they converge. Similar to the original series, Lyra's choices and her destiny are shown to be inextricably woven with the future of the realm. Her personal journey to reconnect with her soul and recover her creativity becomes the central battleground in a wider war with an controlling government which, as such authorities always have, is striving to quell freedom of thinking, originality and expression: all the internal, resistant ways in which individuals can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The book begins with the finding of a collection of unusual openings in the fabric of the planet's atmosphere: windows that seem to lead to other worlds. A particular portal manifests to be the source of the highly contested rose oil. The authority, with the antagonist at its leadership, labels these windows as a problem to the religion's doctrine and endeavors to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to move from inflexible reason and revert to instinct, nevertheless, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that their meaning and what they provide is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a poetic conflict between purity and knowledge is established.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
