Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that manifests, here more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from states, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the hands of crowds. "Something is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and strong are deteriorating and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Precisely what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that drives The Rose Field, which resumes where the previous book ended. This is, reportedly, the author's final excursion into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating world he first revealed three decades past, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose geography maps on to that of this world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, beings in beast form; where the heavens are teeming with witches and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are taken and tea is consumed, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a child in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the origin story with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still recognisably the sharp and determined protagonist of the previous installments, but more mature, melancholic, more cautious, less certain. This circumscription is intensified by her split from her daemon, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to depart in pursuit of that innocent part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which chronicled Lyra undertake a wandering journey across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and danger on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in play, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the religious controlling power, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, administrative malice – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. The antagonist – Lyra's uncle, who blames her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the office of leader of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his recently acquired authority to expand the church's rule. A key character, who saved baby the heroine to refuge along a swollen river as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to the city to discover more about the antagonist's intentions. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious rose oil which seems in some way to be the origin of a social and economic disturbance emanating out from that area. The oil is viewed by certain groups as a marketable good, by others as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by yet others – the extremist "highland figures" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an affront that must be eradicated. The question of its origins, its meaning, and if it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.
As in His Dark Materials, the heroine's actions, and her future, are revealed to be deeply linked with the future of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran mostly in parallel. In the conclusion, they merge. As in His Dark Materials, her actions and her fate are shown to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the universe. Her personal journey to rejoin with her companion and rediscover her imagination becomes the primary battleground in a broader conflict with an authoritarian government which, as these systems always have, is seeking to suppress independence of reason, innovation and expression: all the personal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The book starts with the finding of a set of curious cracks in the structure of the planet's sky: gateways that look to open into alternate realities. A particular opening manifests to be the point of the much debated rose oil. The church, with the antagonist at its head, classifies these portals as a threat to the church's doctrine and aims to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from rigid logic and revert to instinct, yet, her belief that these places must be defended – that what they stand for and their value is mysteriously essential – increases. "Dust, or the extract, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or whatever we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a Blakean tussle between innocence and maturity is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
