Field of Roses: Philip Pullman's Gripping Conclusion to the His Dark Materials Trilogy

Tings are collapsing in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a realm that appears, now more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reassembling themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from states, and gathering in the halls of theocrats, the vaults of conglomerates, the hands of rioters. "Some force is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says trader a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and durable are faltering and collapsing."

The Central Mystery and Her Quest

Exactly what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that propels the concluding book, which picks up where its predecessor ended. This is, by all accounts, the author's last foray into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating universe he first revealed 30 years ago, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose geography maps on to that of this world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the people appear and reason and act like us, but are joined by daemons, beings in beast form; where the heavens are populated with witches and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, buses are taken and tea is consumed, and older scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a young woman: still distinctly the spiky and persistent main character of the prior volumes, but older, more sorrowful, more careful, less certain. This circumscription is amplified by her split from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.

Converging Storylines

The daemon's resolve to depart in pursuit of that innocent part of her which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which saw Lyra undertake a wandering journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with marvel and peril on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the faith's controlling power, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, administrative malice – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's relative, who faults her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the position of president of the authority's ruling assembly, and is set on using his newfound influence to broaden the church's control. A key character, who rescued baby Lyra to safety along a flooded Thames as an child in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in intelligence work: he is assigned to the city to find out more about Delamare's intentions. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and precious rose oil which appears mysteriously to be the source of a social and economic upheaval emanating out from the region. The oil is seen by certain groups as a commercial product, by different parties as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by further factions – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of darkness; an challenge that must be obliterated. The question of its source, its significance, and if it should be eliminated or safeguarded is escalating in importance.

Similar to the first series, the heroine's decisions, and her future, are demonstrated to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the realm

In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran largely in tandem. In this final book, they merge. Similar to the first trilogy, her choices and her destiny are shown to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the universe. Her individual quest to reconnect with her soul and regain her creativity becomes the key struggle in a wider conflict with an authoritarian regime which, as these systems always have, is attempting to stifle autonomy of reason, originality and art: all the internal, defiant ways in which individuals can be liberated.

Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts

The novel starts with the finding of a set of strange cracks in the fabric of the planet's air: windows that look to lead to different dimensions. An example of a portal appears to be the source of the much debated mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its helm, designates these windows as a problem to the church's doctrine and endeavors to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to move from inflexible rationalism and revert to feeling, however, her belief that these sites must be protected – that their significance and what they provide is mysteriously vital – increases. "Dust, or the substance, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a philosophical conflict between innocence and experience is established.

Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution

At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the