Tings are falling apart in the last installment of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that appears, here more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is draining from authorities, and accumulating in the halls of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the grasp of rioters. "An element is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and solid are deteriorating and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that propels The Rose Field, which continues where the previous book concluded. This is, according to many, the author's final venture into the carefully crafted, infinitely beguiling realm he first revealed in the distant past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a world whose terrain maps on to that of our world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the humans look and think and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, souls in beast form; where the heavens are teeming with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but below, vehicles are ridden and drinks is drunk, and older academics carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the spiky and tenacious protagonist of the previous installments, but more mature, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This restraint is heightened by her division from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to depart in search of that childlike part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an trait which he represents as her "imagination"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a adventurous journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and the author's masterfully eerie embodiment of rigid, bureaucratic wickedness – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's family member, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the office of leader of the authority's ruling assembly, and is set on using his recently acquired influence to extend the religion's control. Another protagonist, who saved infant Lyra to safety along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is dispatched to Geneva to learn more about his aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and valuable essential oil which appears somehow to be the origin of a societal and financial upheaval emanating out from that area. The extract is regarded by various factions as a commercial product, by alternate groups as a empirical or esoteric wonder, and by further factions – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of malevolence; an insult that must be eradicated. The issue of where it comes from, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like the original trilogy, our protagonist's decisions, and her future, are demonstrated to be inextricably linked with the destiny of the universe
In the previous volume, these plots ran broadly in side by side. In this final book, they converge. Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's choices and her path are shown to be inextricably entwined with the future of the universe. Her individual journey to reunite with her soul and recover her imagination becomes the central battleground in a larger conflict with an oppressive regime which, as such authorities often attempt, is striving to suppress independence of thought, creativity and expression: all the inner, resistant ways in which individuals can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The story starts with the unveiling of a series of strange cracks in the makeup of the Earth's atmosphere: windows that appear to open into different dimensions. One such opening appears to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The church, with Delamare at its head, designates these openings as a threat to the institution's beliefs and sets out to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to shift from inflexible rationalism and revert to intuition, nevertheless, her certainty that these locations must be preserved – that their significance and what they offer is somehow crucial – increases. "The substance, or the substance, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a poetic conflict between purity and knowledge is set.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
