Tings are falling apart in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a world that seems, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from governments, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the treasuries of business empires, the control of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says businessman a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and strong are weakening and giving way."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels The Rose Field, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, by all accounts, the author's final venture into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating realm he first introduced 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a world whose landscape maps on to that of our world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and think and act like us, but are joined by external spirits, essences in beast form; where the heavens are populated with sorceresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, buses are caught and beverages is sipped, and mature professors carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the prickly and determined protagonist of the prior volumes, but older, more sorrowful, more careful, less certain. This circumscription is heightened by her division from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to go off in quest of that innocent part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an quality which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw the protagonist undertake a wandering voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and danger on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in play, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the faith's controlling power, and the author's brilliantly sinister representation of strict, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's relative, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the role of president of the Magisterium's High Council, and is determined on using his fresh influence to broaden the institution's control. Another protagonist, who saved infant the heroine to safety along a swollen Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in spycraft: he is sent to Geneva to discover more about his aims. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and precious rose oil which appears mysteriously to be the source of a societal and financial upheaval rippling out from Central Asia. The substance is seen by various factions as a tradeable product, by alternate groups as a research-based or mystical miracle, and by others still – the zealous "highland figures" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an affront that must be obliterated. The question of its origins, its meaning, and if it should be removed or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the first series, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be deeply connected with the destiny of the universe
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in parallel. In the conclusion, they converge. Like His Dark Materials, the protagonist's choices and her destiny are unveiled to be inseparably linked with the future of the world. Her private quest to rejoin with her soul and recover her creativity becomes the primary struggle in a larger conflict with an authoritarian system which, as these systems typically do, is attempting to quell autonomy of reason, creativity and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which people can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The story starts with the finding of a collection of unusual fissures in the makeup of the Earth's air: gateways that appear to lead to alternate realities. An example of a opening appears to be the point of the much debated mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its leadership, labels these portals as a threat to the religion's orthodoxy and endeavors to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to shift from rigid rationalism and back to feeling, nevertheless, her certainty that these sites must be preserved – that their significance and their value is mysteriously vital – increases. "The substance, or rose oil, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we call it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a philosophical tussle between purity and maturity is set.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
