Tings are falling apart in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a world that manifests, in this volume especially, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or reorganizing themselves along novel and troubling lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from states, and gathering in the halls of theocrats, the coffers of corporations, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, very quietly, gradually", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and durable are faltering and giving way."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that drives this final volume, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, the author's final excursion into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling universe he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography corresponds to that of the real world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, beings in beast form; where the heavens are populated with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but below, buses are caught and tea is sipped, and older professors carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a young woman: still clearly the spiky and tenacious protagonist of the prior volumes, but more mature, more sorrowful, warier, less certain. This restraint is intensified by her split from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to go off in pursuit of that innocent part of her which she may have forgotten (an trait which he represents as her "imagination"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with wonder and peril on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in motion, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the church's governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of strict, administrative malice – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's family member, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of president of the authority's governing body, and is set on using his fresh power to expand the institution's rule. Another protagonist, who carried young Lyra to safety along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is assigned to a key location to learn more about the antagonist's plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and costly essential oil which seems somehow to be the cause of a societal and financial crisis spreading out from that area. The oil is seen by various factions as a tradeable product, by others as a empirical or spiritual phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a wellspring of evil; an insult that must be obliterated. The issue of its source, what it stands for, and if it should be eliminated or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's decisions, and her future, are shown to be inextricably connected with the fate of the universe
In the previous volume, these plots ran mostly in side by side. In this final book, they come together. As in His Dark Materials, the protagonist's actions and her destiny are revealed to be inseparably linked with the fate of the world. Her personal quest to reunite with her companion and regain her vision becomes the primary conflict in a broader war with an oppressive government which, as these systems often attempt, is seeking to quell independence of reason, originality and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The novel starts with the discovery of a series of unusual cracks in the structure of the Earth's atmosphere: portals that look to open into different dimensions. An example of a window appears to be the source of the highly contested mystical extract. The authority, with Delamare at its head, labels these openings as a problem to the institution's orthodoxy and aims to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to shift from rigid rationalism and revert to instinct, yet, her certainty that these locations must be preserved – that their meaning and what they offer is mysteriously crucial – grows. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a philosophical struggle between purity and knowledge is established.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
