Things are unraveling in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that appears, now more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along new and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from authorities, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the hands of rioters. "Something is at work, very quietly, gradually", says merchant a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and strong are faltering and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that propels this final volume, which continues where the previous book ended. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's last foray into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose terrain corresponds to that of this world, but whose history veers and changes with ours; where the humans look and think and behave like us, but are paired by external spirits, beings in animal form; where the heavens are populated with witches and mythical beasts, but below, buses are caught and tea is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the prickly and persistent main character of the earlier books, but aged, sadder, more careful, less sure. This circumscription is amplified 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.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to leave in search of that youthful part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an quality which he represents as her "creativity"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and peril on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in action, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of rigid, bureaucratic malice – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's relative, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the position of leader of the Magisterium's governing body, and is intent on using his recently acquired influence to extend the church's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued young Lyra to safety along a swollen Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an academic with a secondary role in spycraft: he is sent to a key location to find out more about Delamare's plans. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and precious rose oil which manifests in some way to be the cause of a social and financial crisis rippling out from the region. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a marketable product, by alternate groups as a research-based or esoteric phenomenon, and by further factions – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a source of evil; an insult that must be eradicated. The issue of its origins, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or preserved is escalating in importance.
Like the first series, Lyra's actions, and her fate, are shown to be inseparably connected with the future of the world
In its predecessor, these storylines ran broadly in parallel. In this final book, they merge. As in the first trilogy, Lyra's movements and her destiny are revealed to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the world. Her personal quest to reconnect with her daemon and recover her imagination becomes the central struggle in a larger battle with an controlling system which, as such regimes always have, is seeking to suppress autonomy of reason, creativity and culture: all the personal, resistant ways in which people can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The novel opens with the discovery of a set of curious openings in the fabric of the planet's air: portals that look to lead to other worlds. An example of a opening seems to be the origin of the much debated rose oil. The authority, with its leader at its head, classifies these windows as a challenge to the institution's beliefs and aims to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from rigid reason and return to intuition, nevertheless, her belief that these locations must be preserved – that their meaning and what they provide is in some way vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the vision, or the field of roses, or no matter what we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a poetic tussle between purity and maturity is established.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
