Things are collapsing in the last installment of The Book of Dust, the second of the author's grand trilogies set in a world that appears, in this volume especially, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reassembling themselves along novel 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". Authority is shifting from governments, and gathering in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of corporations, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and strong are faltering and failing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Exactly what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that drives the concluding book, which resumes where its predecessor left off. This is, according to many, the author's last venture into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting realm he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose geography corresponds to that of this world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals appear and think and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, essences in animal form; where the air are teeming with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are taken and beverages is consumed, and older scholars carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a child in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the prequel, the origin story with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the spiky and tenacious heroine of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, more careful, less certain. This circumscription is heightened by her division from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to go off in search of that childlike part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an trait which he represents as her "vision"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with wonder and danger on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in play, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the church's ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister representation of strict, administrative evil – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the office of head of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his newfound authority to extend the institution's control. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued young the heroine to refuge along a flooded Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an academic with a sideline in intelligence work: he is dispatched to a key location to find out more about his aims. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and valuable essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the cause of a societal and economic crisis emanating out from the region. The extract is seen by certain groups as a tradeable good, by alternate groups as a research-based or mystical phenomenon, and by others still – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of darkness; an insult that must be eradicated. The dilemma of where it comes from, its significance, and whether it should be eliminated or preserved is becoming urgent.
Similar to the original trilogy, our protagonist's deeds, and her destiny, are shown to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran mostly in side by side. In The Rose Field, they converge. Like His Dark Materials, the protagonist's movements and her fate are shown to be inseparably entwined with the future of the realm. Her private mission to rejoin with her soul and rediscover her imagination becomes the key conflict in a wider battle with an authoritarian regime which, as these systems often attempt, is striving to quell autonomy of reason, creativity and culture: all the internal, defiant ways in which people can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The story opens with the discovery of a series of curious fissures in the makeup of the world's air: gateways that seem to open into alternate realities. A particular window manifests to be the source of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The authority, with the antagonist at its leadership, labels these openings as a problem to the religion's orthodoxy and endeavors to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from inflexible logic and return to feeling, nevertheless, her certainty that these places must be defended – that what they stand for and what they offer is mysteriously crucial – increases. "Dust, or the extract, or the vision, or the field of roses, or whatever we call it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a philosophical struggle between innocence and experience is set.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the