Things are unraveling in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that manifests, now more than ever, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is draining from governments, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of corporations, the grasp of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says businessman a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were firm and durable are weakening and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that animates this final volume, which picks up where the previous book ended. This is, according to many, Pullman's last venture into the elaborately built, deeply captivating universe he first revealed 30 years ago, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose terrain corresponds to that of this world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and think and behave like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, souls in beast form; where the skies are populated with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but below, transports are ridden and drinks is drunk, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the prequel, the origin story with which the author began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the prickly and persistent heroine of the prior volumes, but aged, sadder, warier, less certain. This circumscription is intensified by her split from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to go off in quest of that youthful part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled Lyra undertake a picaresque voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and danger on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in action, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of austere, bureaucratic malice – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – the heroine's family member, who faults her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the office of president of the church's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his newfound influence to extend the religion's control. Another protagonist, who rescued young Lyra to safety along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is sent to the city to learn more about Delamare's aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and costly essential oil which manifests mysteriously to be the origin of a societal and financial disturbance rippling out from that area. The oil is viewed by some as a commercial product, by alternate groups as a research-based or esoteric phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a source of malevolence; an affront that must be destroyed. The dilemma of where it comes from, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in the first series, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be deeply connected with the fate of the realm
In its predecessor, these plots ran broadly in side by side. In this final book, they come together. Like the original series, her movements and her path are shown to be inextricably linked with the future of the universe. Her individual journey to reconnect with her daemon and rediscover her vision becomes the primary struggle in a wider war with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes often attempt, is seeking to stifle freedom of reason, originality and art: all the inner, resistant ways in which people can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The book begins with the finding of a collection of curious fissures in the structure of the Earth's sky: gateways that appear to give on to alternate realities. One such opening appears to be the origin of the highly contested mystical extract. The church, with its leader at its helm, classifies these windows as a threat to the religion's doctrine and aims to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from rigid logic and revert to instinct, nevertheless, her conviction that these places must be defended – that their meaning and their value is in some way vital – grows. "The substance, or rose oil, or the vision, or the field of roses, or whatever we name it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a poetic struggle between naivety and knowledge is established.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
