Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that appears, here more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar 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". Control is shifting from states, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the coffers of conglomerates, the control of mobs. "An element is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and solid are deteriorating and failing."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that drives the concluding book, which picks up where its predecessor concluded. This is, by all accounts, the author's last venture into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling universe he first introduced three decades past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose landscape corresponds to that of this world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans look and think and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, souls in creature form; where the air are filled with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but below, transports are taken and drinks is consumed, and middle-aged scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the first volume, the origin story with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still clearly the spiky and determined heroine of the prior volumes, but aged, more sorrowful, warier, less sure. This limitation is amplified by her separation from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to leave in search of that innocent part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a wandering journey across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with amazement and peril on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of strict, bureaucratic evil – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of leader of the authority's governing body, and is intent on using his recently acquired power to broaden the institution's rule. Another protagonist, who saved young Lyra to security along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in spycraft: he is dispatched to Geneva to find out more about the antagonist's intentions. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and precious rose oil which seems mysteriously to be the source of a societal and economic disturbance rippling out from Central Asia. The extract is viewed by various factions as a tradeable product, by others as a scientific or spiritual phenomenon, and by yet others – the zealous "highland figures" – as a origin of evil; an affront that must be eradicated. The issue of where it comes from, what it stands for, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
Similar to the first series, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are revealed to be deeply connected with the destiny of the realm
In its predecessor, these storylines ran largely in side by side. In this final book, they merge. As in His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions and her destiny are unveiled to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the universe. Her private quest to reconnect with her companion and recover her vision becomes the primary battleground in a larger conflict with an controlling government which, as such authorities always have, is attempting to suppress autonomy of thinking, originality and art: all the internal, resistant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The book begins with the discovery of a series of strange openings in the fabric of the Earth's atmosphere: portals that seem to open into different dimensions. A particular window appears to be the source of the highly contested mystical extract. The authority, with Delamare at its head, labels these windows as a challenge to the religion's beliefs and aims to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from rigid logic and revert to feeling, nevertheless, her conviction that these sites must be protected – that their significance and what they provide is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a poetic tussle between purity and maturity is set.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
