Things are falling apart in the concluding book 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 skewed version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reassembling themselves along new and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is draining from governments, and pooling in the offices of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the grasp of crowds. "Some force is at work, silently, gradually", says merchant a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Things we thought were stable and solid are deteriorating and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that drives The Rose Field, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, by all accounts, the author's concluding venture into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling world he first revealed in the distant past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose geography aligns with that of this world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and behave like us, but are accompanied by daemons, beings in beast form; where the air are filled with witches and gryphons, but below, vehicles are caught and drinks is consumed, and middle-aged professors carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the introductory book with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still clearly the spiky and persistent heroine of the previous installments, but aged, sadder, more careful, less sure. This restraint is intensified by her separation from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to depart in quest of that childlike part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an quality which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with amazement and peril on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and the author's masterfully eerie incarnation of rigid, bureaucratic wickedness – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's relative, who holds responsible her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of head of the church's governing body, and is determined on using his fresh influence to extend the church's dominium. Another protagonist, who carried baby Lyra to security along a swollen river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to a key location to discover more about his aims. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and valuable essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a social and economic upheaval emanating out from Central Asia. The substance is regarded by various factions as a marketable product, by others as a empirical or esoteric miracle, and by further factions – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a origin of darkness; an affront that must be obliterated. The question of where it comes from, its meaning, and if it should be removed or preserved is escalating in importance.
As in the original trilogy, our protagonist's deeds, and her future, are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the future of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran broadly in side by side. In the conclusion, they converge. Similar to His Dark Materials, the protagonist's choices and her path are revealed to be deeply entwined with the future of the realm. Her private mission to rejoin with her companion and recover her creativity becomes the central battleground in a larger war with an authoritarian system which, as such authorities often attempt, is striving to suppress autonomy of thought, originality and art: all the internal, rebellious ways in which humans can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The story begins with the discovery of a set of unusual openings in the makeup of the world's air: portals that appear to lead to alternate realities. A particular window manifests to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its head, classifies these openings as a challenge to the religion's doctrine and sets out to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict logic and back to feeling, however, her belief that these places must be preserved – that their meaning and what they offer is somehow crucial – grows. "Dust, or the extract, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a poetic conflict between purity and knowledge is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
