Tings are falling apart in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a realm that seems, now more than ever, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is draining from authorities, and gathering in the offices of religious leaders, the coffers of business empires, the grasp of rioters. "An element is at work, very quietly, gradually", says trader a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Things we thought were firm and durable are deteriorating and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that animates this final volume, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's last excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose terrain corresponds to that of our world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, souls in creature form; where the skies are teeming with witches and gryphons, but below, transports are taken and tea is drunk, and older academics carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still clearly the sharp and tenacious protagonist of the prior volumes, but aged, sadder, more cautious, less sure. This restraint is intensified by her separation from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to leave in quest of that childlike part of her which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled Lyra undertake a picaresque trek across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and danger on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the faith's controlling power, and Pullman's masterfully eerie incarnation of strict, bureaucratic evil – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's relative, who faults her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the position of president of the church's governing body, and is set on using his fresh influence to extend the religion's control. Another protagonist, who rescued young the heroine to refuge along a flooded river as an child in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in espionage: he is assigned to a key location to learn more about Delamare's intentions. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and valuable botanical extract which seems mysteriously to be the source of a societal and economic upheaval rippling out from the region. The extract is regarded by various factions as a commercial commodity, by others as a scientific or esoteric miracle, and by yet others – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a source of darkness; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of where it comes from, its meaning, and whether it should be eliminated or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in the original trilogy, the heroine's actions, and her fate, are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran broadly in side by side. In this final book, they merge. Similar to the first trilogy, Lyra's movements and her fate are revealed to be inextricably woven with the future of the world. Her individual mission to rejoin with her companion and rediscover her vision becomes the central battleground in a larger battle with an controlling regime which, as such regimes typically do, is striving to stifle independence of thinking, creativity and art: all the inner, defiant ways in which people can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The story opens with the unveiling of a set of curious openings in the fabric of the planet's atmosphere: portals that look to lead to alternate realities. A particular opening appears to be the origin of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its helm, classifies these windows as a challenge to the church's doctrine and sets out to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from inflexible reason and revert to feeling, nevertheless, her belief that these sites must be defended – that what they stand for and their value is mysteriously essential – grows. "Dust, or rose oil, or the vision, or the field of roses, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a poetic struggle between purity and maturity is set.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
