Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from states, and pooling in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of business empires, the hands of crowds. "Something is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says businessman a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and durable are faltering and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Just what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that drives the concluding book, which continues where its predecessor left off. This is, reportedly, Pullman's last venture into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting realm he first revealed 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a world whose landscape aligns with that of our world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and think and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, souls in animal form; where the skies are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but below, buses are taken and tea is consumed, and middle-aged professors carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still distinctly the sharp and determined heroine of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, more careful, more doubtful. This circumscription is heightened by her split from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to depart in pursuit of that childlike part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a wandering trek across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and risk on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of rigid, administrative malice – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. The antagonist – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the office of president of the church's High Council, and is determined on using his newfound influence to extend the church's control. Another protagonist, who rescued young Lyra to safety along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is sent to Geneva to discover more about his aims. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and costly rose oil which manifests somehow to be the cause of a social and economic disturbance spreading out from the region. The extract is viewed by certain groups as a tradeable product, by different parties as a scientific or spiritual phenomenon, and by further factions – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an insult that must be destroyed. The question of where it comes from, its meaning, and whether it should be eliminated or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the first series, the heroine's deeds, and her fate, are revealed to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the realm
In the previous volume, these narratives ran broadly in tandem. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's movements and her fate are unveiled to be deeply woven with the future of the universe. Her individual mission to reconnect with her companion and regain her creativity becomes the central struggle in a wider battle with an authoritarian regime which, as such authorities often attempt, is attempting to suppress autonomy of thought, originality and art: all the inner, resistant ways in which people can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The book starts with the unveiling of a set of curious cracks in the fabric of the world's sky: portals that appear to lead to different dimensions. A particular opening manifests to be the origin of the highly contested mystical extract. The church, with its leader at its leadership, designates these windows as a threat to the religion's doctrine and endeavors to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from inflexible reason and back to instinct, however, her conviction that these places must be protected – that what they stand for and their value is in some way essential – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a Blakean tussle between naivety and maturity is set.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
