Tings are collapsing in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a realm that seems, in this volume especially, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or restructuring themselves along new and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from governments, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the control of crowds. "Some force is at work, stealthily, gradually", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and strong are faltering and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Just what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels The Rose Field, which continues where its predecessor concluded. This is, reportedly, the author's concluding venture into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting world he first revealed 30 years ago, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose landscape corresponds to that of the real world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and think and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, souls in creature form; where the air are filled with witches and gryphons, but beneath those skies, transports are caught and beverages is consumed, and mature academics carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the first volume, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the spiky and tenacious protagonist of the previous installments, but older, more sorrowful, more cautious, more doubtful. This restraint is heightened by her division from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to leave in search of that childlike part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an quality which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which followed Lyra undertake a adventurous trek across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with wonder and danger on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the church's governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of strict, administrative wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's family member, who faults her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the role of leader of the authority's governing body, and is intent on using his recently acquired authority to extend the religion's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who saved young the heroine to safety along a swollen Thames as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to the city to learn more about the antagonist's aims. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and costly rose oil which seems mysteriously to be the source of a societal and financial crisis spreading out from Central Asia. The oil is regarded by various factions as a tradeable good, by others as a scientific or mystical phenomenon, and by others still – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of darkness; an insult that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its source, what it stands for, and whether it should be removed or preserved is escalating in importance.
Like the original trilogy, Lyra's actions, and her fate, are revealed to be inextricably connected with the fate of the universe
In the previous volume, these plots ran mostly in tandem. In this final book, they merge. Similar to the original series, Lyra's actions and her destiny are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the universe. Her private mission to rejoin with her soul and recover her vision becomes the key struggle in a wider conflict with an controlling regime which, as these systems always have, is striving to stifle freedom of reason, creativity and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which humans can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The novel starts with the unveiling of a series of strange fissures in the fabric of the planet's air: portals that appear to give on to alternate realities. A particular window manifests to be the origin of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its leadership, labels these windows as a threat to the religion's doctrine and endeavors to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from inflexible logic and revert to instinct, however, her belief that these places must be defended – that their significance and what they offer is mysteriously crucial – grows. "Dust, or the extract, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a poetic tussle between innocence and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
