Things are falling apart in the concluding book 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 skewed version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from authorities, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, silently, very subtly", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and solid are faltering and failing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that drives The Rose Field, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, reportedly, the author's last venture into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting realm he first unveiled in the distant past, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose geography aligns with that of our world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are paired by daemons, souls in creature form; where the skies are teeming with witches and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are taken and drinks is sipped, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the first volume, the introductory book with which the author began the series, is now a young woman: still recognisably the prickly and tenacious main character of the prior volumes, but more mature, sadder, warier, less certain. This restraint is heightened by her division from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to depart in pursuit of that innocent part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an trait which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and peril on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the faith's controlling power, and the author's masterfully eerie representation of austere, bureaucratic malice – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's relative, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the role of head of the church's governing body, and is set on using his fresh power to extend the church's control. Malcolm Polstead, who saved infant Lyra to refuge along a swollen river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a sideline in spycraft: he is assigned to the city to find out more about the antagonist's aims. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and costly rose oil which appears in some way to be the source of a societal and financial upheaval spreading out from Central Asia. The substance is seen by certain groups as a commercial commodity, by others as a empirical or esoteric wonder, and by yet others – the zealous "highland figures" – as a source of evil; an insult that must be obliterated. The question of its origins, its significance, and whether it should be removed or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
Like the first series, our protagonist's decisions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be deeply entwined with the future of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran mostly in parallel. In the conclusion, they come together. Like the original series, her movements and her path are unveiled to be deeply linked with the future of the universe. Her personal quest to reconnect with her soul and regain her creativity becomes the primary battleground in a wider battle with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes always have, is seeking to stifle freedom of thinking, originality and art: all the personal, rebellious ways in which humans can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The book opens with the finding of a collection of strange fissures in the structure of the world's air: portals that look to give on to different dimensions. A particular window appears to be the point of the much debated rose oil. The authority, with Delamare at its helm, labels these windows as a problem to the religion's beliefs and sets out to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict logic and revert to instinct, nevertheless, her certainty that these sites must be preserved – that what they stand for and their value is in some way essential – grows. "The substance, or the substance, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a philosophical tussle between innocence and knowledge is set.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
