Tings are falling apart in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a realm that seems, now more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or restructuring themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is draining from states, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of conglomerates, the hands of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, gradually", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and durable are faltering and giving way."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that propels the concluding book, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, reportedly, Pullman's last venture into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling world he first revealed 30 years ago, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose landscape corresponds to that of the real world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by daemons, souls in animal form; where the skies are filled with sorceresses and gryphons, but below, vehicles are caught and tea is consumed, and mature scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a adult: still clearly the spiky and determined main character of the previous installments, but older, sadder, more cautious, less certain. This restraint is amplified by her division from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to leave in pursuit of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he represents as her "vision"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with wonder and peril on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the religious governing authority, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of austere, procedural malice – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the position of leader of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his newfound authority to expand the religion's rule. Another protagonist, who rescued infant Lyra to refuge along a flooded Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an academic with a sideline in espionage: he is assigned to Geneva to learn more about Delamare's aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious essential oil which seems in some way to be the origin of a social and financial crisis rippling out from that area. The oil is seen by certain groups as a marketable commodity, by different parties as a research-based or spiritual phenomenon, and by others still – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a origin of evil; an affront that must be destroyed. The issue of its source, its meaning, and if it should be removed or preserved is escalating in importance.
Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions, and her future, are shown to be inextricably connected with the destiny of the realm
In its predecessor, these storylines ran largely in parallel. In the conclusion, they merge. Similar to the first trilogy, the protagonist's choices and her fate are shown to be inextricably linked with the destiny of the realm. Her personal mission to reunite with her companion and recover her vision becomes the primary conflict in a broader battle with an oppressive government which, as such regimes often attempt, is striving to quell freedom of thought, innovation and expression: all the personal, defiant ways in which individuals can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The novel starts with the discovery of a collection of curious fissures in the structure of the Earth's air: gateways that appear to lead to different dimensions. An example of a opening seems to be the point of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its leadership, classifies these openings as a threat to the church's orthodoxy and sets out to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to move from rigid logic and back to feeling, however, her certainty that these places must be defended – that their meaning and their value is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a philosophical conflict between naivety and maturity is established.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
