Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that manifests, here more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from governments, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and strong are weakening and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that drives The Rose Field, which continues where its predecessor concluded. This is, according to many, the author's final foray into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling realm he first introduced in the distant past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose terrain corresponds to that of our world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans look and think and act like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, souls in beast form; where the air are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, vehicles are ridden and beverages is consumed, and middle-aged professors carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered 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 young woman: still distinctly the prickly and determined main character of the previous installments, but more mature, more sorrowful, warier, more doubtful. This limitation is heightened by her split from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to go off in pursuit of that youthful part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an quality which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with wonder and risk on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious governing authority, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister embodiment of strict, procedural wickedness – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the office of leader of the church's governing body, and is intent on using his newfound influence to broaden the institution's rule. A key character, who saved infant Lyra to safety along a flooded Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to Geneva to learn more about Delamare's aims. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and precious essential oil which manifests somehow to be the cause of a societal and financial upheaval rippling out from Central Asia. The substance is viewed by certain groups as a commercial good, by alternate groups as a scientific or spiritual wonder, and by yet others – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of darkness; an affront that must be obliterated. The dilemma of its origins, its meaning, and if it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.
Similar to the original trilogy, Lyra's deeds, and her fate, are revealed to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran mostly in tandem. In the conclusion, they come together. Like the original series, the protagonist's actions and her destiny are unveiled to be inseparably woven with the destiny of the realm. Her personal mission to rejoin with her daemon and regain her creativity becomes the central conflict in a larger conflict with an oppressive system which, as these systems often attempt, is seeking to suppress freedom of thought, innovation and art: all the inner, resistant ways in which humans can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The novel begins with the finding of a set of strange openings in the structure of the Earth's atmosphere: portals that appear to lead to alternate realities. An example of a opening seems to be the source of the highly contested mystical extract. The authority, with the antagonist at its leadership, designates these openings as a threat to the institution's beliefs and sets out to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from inflexible rationalism and revert to instinct, nevertheless, her belief that these places must be defended – that their significance and their value is mysteriously crucial – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a philosophical conflict between purity and experience is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
