Tings are unraveling in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a realm that manifests, in this volume especially, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from governments, and pooling in the halls of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the control of mobs. "An element is at work, very quietly, gradually", says trader a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and durable are faltering and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that propels this final volume, which resumes where its predecessor ended. This is, reportedly, the author's last venture into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting realm he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose terrain aligns with that of our world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, essences in beast form; where the heavens are filled with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, transports are ridden and tea is drunk, and middle-aged scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the first volume, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the prickly and persistent protagonist of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, more careful, less certain. This limitation is intensified by her separation from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to go off in pursuit of that childlike part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a wandering trek across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and danger on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in action, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie incarnation of rigid, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's family member, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the role of head of the church's High Council, and is set on using his recently acquired influence to broaden the religion's control. Malcolm Polstead, who carried baby Lyra to security along a swollen river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in intelligence work: he is dispatched to Geneva to learn more about his plans. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and precious botanical extract which appears somehow to be the cause of a societal and economic upheaval emanating out from that area. The oil is viewed by various factions as a marketable commodity, by others as a empirical or esoteric phenomenon, and by others still – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of where it comes from, its significance, and if it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.
Similar to the original trilogy, our protagonist's decisions, and her future, are shown to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the universe
In the previous volume, these storylines ran largely in tandem. In this final book, they come together. As in the first trilogy, Lyra's choices and her path are unveiled to be inseparably woven with the destiny of the realm. Her private quest to reconnect with her companion and rediscover her vision becomes the key struggle in a wider battle with an oppressive system which, as such regimes often attempt, is striving to suppress freedom of thought, creativity and art: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The book begins with the discovery of a collection of unusual openings in the structure of the world's air: windows that look to open into alternate realities. One such window seems to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The authority, with its leader at its helm, labels these openings as a challenge to the church's doctrine and sets out to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to shift from inflexible logic and return to instinct, nevertheless, her conviction that these sites must be defended – that their significance and what they provide is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "The substance, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or whatever we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a Blakean tussle between purity and knowledge is set.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
