Things are collapsing in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that seems, now more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reassembling themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from authorities, and gathering in the halls of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the hands of mobs. "An element is at work, silently, very subtly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Things we thought were stable and strong are weakening and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Precisely what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that propels The Rose Field, which continues where its predecessor concluded. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding foray into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a world whose landscape corresponds to that of this world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the people look and reason and act like us, but are joined by daemons, souls in animal form; where the air are filled with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but below, buses are caught and drinks is drunk, and mature academics carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still recognisably the spiky and tenacious main character of the prior volumes, but aged, more sorrowful, warier, less sure. This limitation is heightened by her division from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to go off in search of that innocent part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with wonder and risk on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the church's governing authority, and the author's masterfully eerie representation of austere, bureaucratic wickedness – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's family member, who blames her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the position of president of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his fresh power to broaden the religion's control. Another protagonist, who saved infant Lyra to safety along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to Geneva to discover more about his intentions. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and precious botanical extract which seems in some way to be the cause of a social and financial disturbance spreading out from that area. The substance is viewed by certain groups as a commercial commodity, by different parties as a research-based or esoteric phenomenon, and by further factions – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of darkness; an challenge that must be destroyed. The issue of where it comes from, its meaning, and whether it should be removed or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like the first series, Lyra's deeds, and her future, are revealed to be deeply linked with the destiny of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran mostly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they merge. As in the first trilogy, Lyra's actions and her destiny are shown to be deeply linked with the fate of the realm. Her private quest to reconnect with her companion and recover her creativity becomes the central struggle in a wider battle with an controlling system which, as such regimes typically do, is striving to stifle freedom of reason, innovation and art: all the inner, defiant ways in which humans can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The story starts with the unveiling of a series of unusual fissures in the structure of the Earth's air: windows that appear to lead to different dimensions. An example of a opening appears to be the source of the highly contested botanical substance. The church, with Delamare at its head, classifies these windows as a challenge to the religion's beliefs and endeavors to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict reason and revert to feeling, however, her belief that these places must be defended – that their meaning and what they offer is mysteriously vital – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a philosophical tussle between naivety and knowledge is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the