Things are falling apart in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, now more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is draining from authorities, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, very quietly, gradually", says businessman a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and strong are faltering and giving way."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Exactly what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that drives this final volume, which resumes where its predecessor left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final venture into the carefully crafted, infinitely beguiling universe he first revealed 30 years ago, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose landscape aligns with that of our world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, beings in creature form; where the skies are populated with witches and mythical beasts, but below, buses are ridden and tea is consumed, and middle-aged scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a child in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the first volume, the prequel with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still recognisably the prickly and tenacious heroine of the previous installments, but more mature, more sorrowful, more careful, more doubtful. This limitation is amplified by her split from her daemon, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to leave in pursuit of that innocent part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which followed the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and danger on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's masterfully eerie representation of austere, procedural wickedness – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's uncle, who blames her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of president of the authority's governing body, and is intent on using his fresh authority to broaden the institution's dominium. Another protagonist, who carried young Lyra to refuge along a flooded river as an young boy in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in espionage: he is sent to a key location to learn more about the antagonist's plans. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and precious essential oil which manifests mysteriously to be the origin of a social and financial disturbance spreading out from that area. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a commercial good, by different parties as a scientific or esoteric phenomenon, and by further factions – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a source of evil; an challenge that must be obliterated. The issue of its origins, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or preserved is becoming urgent.
Like His Dark Materials, the heroine's decisions, and her future, are shown to be inseparably entwined with the future of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran broadly in side by side. In the conclusion, they converge. Similar to the original series, the protagonist's actions and her path are shown to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the world. Her personal quest to reconnect with her daemon and recover her imagination becomes the key struggle in a broader battle with an oppressive government which, as such authorities often attempt, is striving to stifle autonomy of thought, originality and expression: all the internal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The book starts with the finding of a collection of unusual cracks in the structure of the Earth's air: portals that seem to lead to different dimensions. An example of a portal seems to be the source of the highly contested botanical substance. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its helm, labels these portals as a problem to the institution's orthodoxy and aims to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from inflexible reason and back to feeling, however, her conviction that these locations must be defended – that their significance and their value is in some way crucial – strengthens. "The substance, or the extract, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a Blakean tussle between innocence and experience is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
