Things are collapsing in the last installment of The Dust Trilogy, the next of the author's masterful trilogies set in a world that appears, here more than ever, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along new and troubling lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from governments, and pooling in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of business empires, the control of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and strong are weakening and failing."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Exactly what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that propels this final volume, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, reportedly, Pullman's last venture into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating world he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose terrain maps on to that of this world, but whose history veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and think and act like us, but are joined by daemons, beings in beast form; where the heavens are populated with witches and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, buses are ridden and drinks is sipped, and middle-aged scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first met as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the prequel, the introductory book with which the author began the series, is now a young woman: still distinctly the prickly and persistent protagonist of the prior volumes, but older, more sorrowful, warier, less sure. This restraint is amplified by her split from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to go off in search of that youthful part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an quality which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled Lyra undertake a wandering journey across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and risk on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in action, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the religious governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling embodiment of austere, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – our protagonist's relative, who faults her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of president of the Magisterium's High Council, and is intent on using his recently acquired authority to extend the institution's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who saved infant Lyra to safety along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in espionage: he is dispatched to Geneva to discover more about Delamare's plans. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and precious botanical extract which seems in some way to be the source of a social and economic crisis spreading out from the region. The substance is seen by some as a marketable commodity, by different parties as a empirical or esoteric wonder, and by yet others – the zealous "highland figures" – as a wellspring of darkness; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of where it comes from, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
As in the first series, the heroine's deeds, and her fate, are demonstrated to be deeply connected with the future of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran broadly in side by side. In the conclusion, they come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions and her path are shown to be deeply entwined with the fate of the world. Her private mission to reunite with her soul and recover her vision becomes the key conflict in a larger war with an oppressive system which, as these systems typically do, is seeking to suppress independence of reason, creativity and expression: all the personal, rebellious ways in which people can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The book opens with the discovery of a collection of curious openings in the fabric of the Earth's sky: windows that seem to open into different dimensions. A particular portal seems to be the point of the highly contested rose oil. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its helm, designates these windows as a problem to the religion's beliefs and endeavors to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to move from inflexible reason and return to feeling, nevertheless, her certainty that these locations must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is somehow vital – strengthens. "Dust, or the substance, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we call it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a philosophical tussle between purity and maturity is set.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
