Tings are falling apart in the last installment of The Dust Trilogy, the next of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, now more than ever, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from states, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of conglomerates, the hands of rioters. "Some force is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and solid are weakening and failing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Just what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that propels the concluding book, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding foray into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling world he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography aligns with that of this world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and think and behave like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, essences in beast form; where the heavens are teeming with witches and gryphons, but underneath, vehicles are taken and beverages is consumed, and mature academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the sharp and persistent main character of the prior volumes, but older, more sorrowful, warier, less certain. This restraint is amplified by her split from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to leave in quest of that youthful part of her which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which followed Lyra undertake a wandering journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with wonder and peril on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in motion, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's masterfully eerie incarnation of strict, administrative wickedness – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's uncle, who faults her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of head of the Magisterium's High Council, and is determined on using his fresh power to broaden the religion's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued infant Lyra to safety along a overflowing river as an young boy in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in espionage: he is dispatched to the city to learn more about the antagonist's aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and costly rose oil which manifests mysteriously to be the origin of a social and financial crisis rippling out from Central Asia. The extract is seen by certain groups as a commercial good, by different parties as a research-based or esoteric wonder, and by further factions – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of malevolence; an challenge that must be destroyed. The issue of its origins, its meaning, and if it should be removed or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the original trilogy, our protagonist's deeds, and her fate, are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran broadly in parallel. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, the protagonist's movements and her destiny are shown to be inseparably woven with the future of the universe. Her individual journey to reunite with her companion and recover her imagination becomes the key conflict in a wider war with an oppressive system which, as such authorities always have, is attempting to stifle autonomy of reason, innovation and culture: all the personal, defiant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The story begins with the discovery of a set of strange fissures in the makeup of the world's atmosphere: windows that seem to open into alternate realities. An example of a portal seems to be the origin of the much debated rose oil. The authority, with its leader at its leadership, labels these openings as a problem to the religion's beliefs and aims to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from inflexible logic and back to instinct, nevertheless, her conviction that these sites must be preserved – that what they stand for and what they provide is in some way vital – grows. "The substance, or rose oil, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a poetic struggle between naivety and experience is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
