Things are falling apart in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that seems, here more than ever, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along novel and troubling lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from governments, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, stealthily, gradually", says businessman a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and solid are weakening and failing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Just what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that drives The Rose Field, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, the author's concluding foray into the elaborately built, deeply captivating realm he first revealed three decades past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a world whose terrain maps on to that of our world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals look and think and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, essences in animal form; where the heavens are populated with enchantresses and gryphons, but below, buses are caught and tea is drunk, and older scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in the first volume, the origin story with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still recognisably the sharp and persistent heroine of the prior volumes, but more mature, sadder, more cautious, less sure. This restraint is heightened by her division from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to leave in pursuit of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an quality which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed the protagonist undertake a adventurous journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of austere, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's relative, who faults her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the office of head of the Magisterium's High Council, and is intent on using his newfound influence to extend the church's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who carried young Lyra to safety along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is sent to the city to discover more about Delamare's plans. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and valuable essential oil which seems mysteriously to be the source of a social and financial upheaval rippling out from that area. The oil is viewed by various factions as a tradeable commodity, by others as a scientific or esoteric miracle, and by yet others – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a source of darkness; an insult that must be obliterated. The question of where it comes from, its meaning, and whether it should be eliminated or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in the original trilogy, Lyra's deeds, and her destiny, are shown to be inextricably linked with the fate of the world
In its predecessor, these storylines ran mostly in tandem. In this final book, they come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, her choices and her destiny are revealed to be inseparably woven with the future of the world. Her personal mission to rejoin with her daemon and recover her vision becomes the primary conflict in a wider war with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes often attempt, is seeking to quell independence of thinking, originality and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The story begins with the unveiling of a set of curious cracks in the makeup of the Earth's atmosphere: portals that appear to open into other worlds. One such window seems to be the origin of the much debated botanical substance. The authority, with Delamare at its leadership, labels these portals as a problem to the institution's doctrine and sets out to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from inflexible rationalism and back to instinct, yet, her conviction that these sites must be preserved – that their meaning and what they provide is somehow vital – increases. "Dust, or rose oil, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we call it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a poetic struggle between innocence and maturity is set.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
