Things are falling apart in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that appears, here more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reassembling themselves along new and troubling lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from states, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the grasp of mobs. "Something is at work, silently, gradually", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were firm and solid are deteriorating and failing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that propels the concluding book, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, reportedly, the author's concluding foray into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting world he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a world whose terrain maps on to that of the real world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and behave like us, but are accompanied by daemons, essences in animal form; where the heavens are teeming with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but below, vehicles are caught and beverages is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still clearly the prickly and tenacious heroine of the prior volumes, but more mature, more sorrowful, more cautious, less sure. This restraint is heightened by her separation from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to go off in pursuit of that childlike part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an trait which he represents as her "creativity"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed the protagonist undertake a adventurous voyage across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and danger on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in play, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the faith's ruling body, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of strict, administrative wickedness – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. The antagonist – Lyra's uncle, who blames her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the office of president of the Magisterium's High Council, and is set on using his newfound authority to extend the institution's control. A key character, who rescued baby Lyra to refuge along a swollen river as an young boy in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is dispatched to a key location to find out more about his intentions. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and valuable essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the source of a social and economic upheaval spreading out from that area. The oil is regarded by certain groups as a tradeable commodity, by others as a research-based or esoteric miracle, and by others still – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an challenge that must be destroyed. The question of its source, what it stands for, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
As in His Dark Materials, the heroine's deeds, and her destiny, are revealed to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the realm
In the previous volume, these storylines ran broadly in parallel. In this final book, they converge. Similar to the first trilogy, her actions and her destiny are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the realm. Her private journey to rejoin with her companion and recover her imagination becomes the primary struggle in a larger battle with an authoritarian regime which, as such regimes always have, is attempting to quell autonomy of reason, innovation and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The story starts with the discovery of a set of curious cracks in the makeup of the planet's sky: portals that appear to give on to different dimensions. An example of a window seems to be the source of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The church, with the antagonist at its head, designates these windows as a challenge to the institution's beliefs and sets out to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to move from strict rationalism and return to instinct, yet, her certainty that these sites must be defended – that their meaning and what they offer is mysteriously vital – increases. "The substance, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or whatever we call it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a Blakean tussle between purity and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
