Tings are unraveling in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the second of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that appears, now more than ever, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from states, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, gradually", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an city cafe. "Things we thought were firm and durable are deteriorating and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Precisely what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that propels The Rose Field, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's final foray into the elaborately built, deeply captivating realm he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a world whose landscape aligns with that of our world, but whose history veers and changes with ours; where the humans look and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, souls in creature form; where the air are filled with witches and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, transports are ridden and beverages is sipped, and mature academics carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still distinctly the spiky and persistent main character of the earlier books, but more mature, more sorrowful, warier, more doubtful. This limitation is amplified by her separation from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to leave in search of that innocent part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he represents as her "creativity"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which chronicled Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with amazement and peril on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister embodiment of austere, procedural evil – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's uncle, who faults her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of president of the church's High Council, and is determined on using his newfound power to broaden the religion's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued baby Lyra to security along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an academic with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to a key location to learn more about his plans. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and valuable essential oil which appears somehow to be the cause of a social and financial upheaval emanating out from Central Asia. The substance is regarded by certain groups as a commercial product, by alternate groups as a research-based or esoteric miracle, and by yet others – the extremist "highland figures" – as a source of evil; an insult that must be obliterated. The question of its origins, what it stands for, and if it should be removed or protected is escalating in importance.
As in the original trilogy, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are revealed to be deeply linked with the fate of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran mostly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they come together. As in the original series, her movements and her fate are unveiled to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the realm. Her individual quest to reconnect with her soul and rediscover her creativity becomes the central battleground in a wider war with an controlling government which, as these systems always have, is seeking to quell freedom of reason, innovation and culture: all the personal, defiant ways in which humans can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The story opens with the discovery of a series of strange fissures in the structure of the Earth's air: gateways that look to lead to different dimensions. One such portal seems to be the origin of the highly contested mystical extract. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its helm, classifies these windows as a challenge to the institution's orthodoxy and endeavors to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to move from rigid logic and revert to instinct, yet, her conviction that these locations must be defended – that their meaning and what they offer is somehow vital – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or whatever we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a Blakean struggle between innocence and experience is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
