Things are unraveling in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, now more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from states, and gathering in the offices of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says merchant a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his seat in an city cafe. "Things we thought were firm and solid are deteriorating and failing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Just what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that animates The Rose Field, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, according to many, the author's last foray into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling realm he first introduced 30 years ago, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose terrain maps on to that of this world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, essences in beast form; where the heavens are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but below, transports are taken and drinks is sipped, and middle-aged 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 met once more as a baby in the prequel, the prequel with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious heroine of the previous installments, but aged, more sorrowful, warier, more doubtful. This restraint is amplified by her separation from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to leave in pursuit of that youthful part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an trait which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and peril on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in action, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the faith's ruling body, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister representation of rigid, bureaucratic wickedness – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's uncle, who blames her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his newfound influence to expand the church's control. A key character, who saved baby Lyra to safety along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is assigned to the city to find out more about his plans. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and valuable botanical extract which appears somehow to be the origin of a social and financial crisis emanating out from Central Asia. The extract is regarded by various factions as a marketable product, by others as a research-based or mystical miracle, and by further factions – the zealous "highland figures" – as a source of evil; an insult that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its origins, what it stands for, and if it should be removed or protected is escalating in importance.
Similar to the first series, our protagonist's deeds, and her future, are shown to be inextricably connected with the future of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran mostly in parallel. In The Rose Field, they merge. Like His Dark Materials, the protagonist's choices and her destiny are revealed to be inseparably woven with the destiny of the realm. Her individual mission to rejoin with her daemon and regain her creativity becomes the key battleground in a broader war with an oppressive regime which, as these systems typically do, is attempting to suppress independence of reason, creativity and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The novel opens with the discovery of a set of strange openings in the fabric of the world's air: gateways that appear to lead to alternate realities. An example of a portal manifests to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The authority, with Delamare at its head, classifies these portals as a problem to the institution's doctrine and endeavors to destroy them. As the heroine begins to shift from inflexible reason and return to intuition, nevertheless, her certainty that these sites must be protected – that what they stand for and their value is mysteriously essential – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or whatever we call it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a philosophical tussle between naivety and maturity is established.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the