Tings are collapsing in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from states, and gathering in the offices of religious leaders, the coffers of conglomerates, the grasp of mobs. "An element is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his place in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and solid are faltering and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Just what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that animates this final volume, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, reportedly, the author's final foray into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating world he first revealed in the distant past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose landscape aligns with that of our world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, beings in beast form; where the heavens are filled with witches and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are caught and tea is consumed, and older academics carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a child in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the prequel, the introductory book with which the author began the series, is now a adult: still clearly the prickly and determined main character of the previous installments, but older, sadder, warier, less certain. This circumscription is intensified by her split from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to depart in quest of that innocent part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an trait which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which chronicled Lyra undertake a adventurous trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and risk on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the faith's controlling power, and the author's brilliantly sinister representation of strict, bureaucratic wickedness – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's uncle, who blames her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of president of the church's ruling assembly, and is set on using his newfound authority to extend the religion's dominium. Another protagonist, who rescued infant Lyra to safety along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a sideline in intelligence work: he is dispatched to a key location to learn more about his intentions. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious essential oil which manifests mysteriously to be the source of a social and financial disturbance spreading out from that area. The substance is seen by certain groups as a tradeable good, by alternate groups as a research-based or spiritual wonder, and by yet others – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an challenge that must be eradicated. The issue of where it comes from, what it stands for, and if it should be eliminated or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
Like the first series, Lyra's deeds, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran largely in parallel. In The Rose Field, they converge. Like the first trilogy, the protagonist's actions and her path are unveiled to be deeply linked with the future of the universe. Her private journey to reunite with her daemon and regain her imagination becomes the primary struggle in a broader battle with an oppressive government which, as such regimes always have, is striving to quell independence of thought, innovation and art: all the inner, rebellious ways in which people can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The novel starts with the discovery of a series of unusual openings in the makeup of the world's air: windows that seem to lead to alternate realities. One such portal manifests to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The Magisterium, with its leader at its helm, classifies these openings as a problem to the religion's doctrine and endeavors to destroy them. As Lyra begins to move from inflexible rationalism and back to feeling, nevertheless, her conviction that these sites must be defended – that their meaning and their value is mysteriously essential – increases. "The substance, or the extract, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a philosophical tussle between innocence and experience is set.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
