Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of the author's masterful trilogies set in a universe that manifests, here more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or restructuring themselves along novel and troubling lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from authorities, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of conglomerates, the hands of rioters. "An element is at work, stealthily, gradually", says trader a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were secure and durable are weakening and failing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Exactly what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that drives the concluding book, which picks up where the previous book left off. This is, reportedly, the author's concluding excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting world he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography corresponds to that of our world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans look and think and act like us, but are paired by external spirits, essences in creature form; where the skies are populated with witches and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, vehicles are taken and drinks is drunk, and mature scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious protagonist of the previous installments, but older, sadder, warier, less certain. This limitation is intensified by her split from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to go off in search of that innocent part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an quality which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with amazement and danger on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the church's ruling body, and the author's deliciously chilling incarnation of rigid, procedural wickedness – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the role of president of the church's governing body, and is set on using his newfound authority to broaden the church's dominium. A key character, who carried infant the heroine to safety along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an academic with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is assigned to the city to discover more about the antagonist's intentions. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and valuable essential oil which manifests in some way to be the source of a societal and economic crisis rippling out from Central Asia. The substance is viewed by some as a tradeable commodity, by different parties as a scientific or mystical miracle, and by others still – the extremist "highland figures" – as a origin of malevolence; an insult that must be eradicated. The question of where it comes from, what it stands for, and whether it should be destroyed or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like His Dark Materials, our protagonist's decisions, and her future, are revealed to be inseparably linked with the fate of the universe
In its predecessor, these plots ran broadly in tandem. In the conclusion, they merge. As in the first trilogy, Lyra's movements and her path are revealed to be deeply woven with the fate of the world. Her private quest to rejoin with her soul and recover her vision becomes the primary conflict in a wider battle with an controlling system which, as these systems typically do, is striving to suppress freedom of reason, innovation and culture: all the personal, defiant ways in which humans can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The book begins with the discovery of a collection of unusual fissures in the structure of the planet's air: gateways that seem to give on to alternate realities. One such window seems to be the origin of the highly contested botanical substance. The authority, with Delamare at its leadership, classifies these windows as a challenge to the religion's beliefs and endeavors to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from rigid logic and back to instinct, yet, her belief that these places must be defended – that what they stand for and what they offer is somehow crucial – strengthens. "The substance, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a philosophical struggle between purity and experience is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
