Things are collapsing in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the second of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that manifests, now more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from authorities, and pooling in the offices of theocrats, the coffers of corporations, the control of mobs. "An element is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says trader a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and solid are deteriorating and failing."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that drives this final volume, which resumes where the previous book concluded. This is, according to many, the author's concluding foray into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating world he first unveiled three decades past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose terrain maps on to that of the real world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans look and think and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, essences in creature form; where the air are populated with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but below, vehicles are taken and tea is sipped, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a child in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still clearly the sharp and determined main character of the previous installments, but aged, sadder, more careful, less certain. This limitation is intensified by her division from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to leave in search of that childlike part of her which she may have forgotten (an trait which he represents as her "imagination"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed Lyra undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with marvel and risk on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in play, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the religious controlling power, and the author's masterfully eerie embodiment of austere, bureaucratic evil – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's relative, who blames her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the role of leader of the authority's High Council, and is set on using his newfound power to broaden the church's control. A key character, who saved infant Lyra to security along a swollen river as an child in the prequel, is now an academic with a secondary role in espionage: he is assigned to Geneva to learn more about his intentions. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and precious rose oil which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a social and economic crisis emanating out from the region. The extract is viewed by some as a tradeable good, by alternate groups as a empirical or esoteric miracle, and by others still – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a source of evil; an challenge that must be obliterated. The question of its source, its significance, and if it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.
As in the original trilogy, Lyra's deeds, and her fate, are shown to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the world
In its predecessor, these storylines ran mostly in parallel. In the conclusion, they converge. Like the original series, Lyra's actions and her fate are unveiled to be deeply entwined with the future of the realm. Her private journey to reunite with her companion and regain her creativity becomes the central struggle in a broader battle with an oppressive government which, as such authorities often attempt, is striving to suppress autonomy of thinking, innovation and art: all the personal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The story starts with the discovery of a set of strange openings in the fabric of the world's air: gateways that look to open into alternate realities. An example of a window seems to be the origin of the much debated mystical extract. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its leadership, labels these openings as a threat to the church's orthodoxy and endeavors to destroy them. As the heroine begins to shift from strict reason and back to feeling, yet, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that their meaning and what they provide is mysteriously vital – grows. "The substance, or the extract, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a philosophical conflict between naivety and experience is established.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
