Things are unraveling in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that manifests, here more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reassembling themselves along new and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from states, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the hands of mobs. "Something is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and solid are deteriorating and failing."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that animates this final volume, which resumes where the previous book ended. This is, reportedly, Pullman's concluding foray into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling realm he first unveiled three decades past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a world whose terrain maps on to that of our world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, beings in animal form; where the heavens are populated with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, transports are taken and beverages is drunk, and middle-aged professors carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the first volume, the introductory book with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still clearly the spiky and tenacious heroine of the earlier books, but more mature, melancholic, more careful, less sure. This limitation is amplified by her separation from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to go off in pursuit of that innocent part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an quality which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which followed Lyra undertake a picaresque voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with marvel and risk on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of strict, administrative evil – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's uncle, who faults her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the office of leader of the Magisterium's governing body, and is determined on using his newfound power to broaden the church's control. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued baby the heroine to safety along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an academic with a sideline in intelligence work: he is sent to Geneva to find out more about his plans. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and precious rose oil which appears in some way to be the cause of a social and economic disturbance emanating out from that area. The substance is viewed by various factions as a commercial product, by different parties as a scientific or mystical miracle, and by others still – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a source of evil; an insult that must be eradicated. The dilemma of where it comes from, its significance, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like the first series, our protagonist's actions, and her future, are shown to be inseparably connected with the destiny of the realm
In its predecessor, these plots ran mostly in parallel. In The Rose Field, they merge. Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's movements and her path are revealed to be deeply woven with the fate of the universe. Her personal journey to reconnect with her companion and recover her creativity becomes the central conflict in a larger battle with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes typically do, is attempting to suppress independence of reason, originality and culture: all the personal, defiant ways in which humans can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The novel opens with the finding of a collection of unusual openings in the structure of the world's air: portals that appear to lead to different dimensions. An example of a window appears to be the source of the much debated botanical substance. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its leadership, classifies these portals as a problem to the religion's doctrine and endeavors to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from strict logic and revert to instinct, nevertheless, her belief that these sites must be defended – that what they stand for and what they offer is in some way crucial – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a philosophical conflict between purity and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the