Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that manifests, here more than ever, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is draining from governments, and gathering in the halls of theocrats, the treasuries of business empires, the hands of rioters. "An element is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were firm and solid are faltering and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that propels this final volume, which continues where its predecessor ended. This is, reportedly, Pullman's concluding foray into the elaborately built, deeply captivating realm he first introduced 30 years ago, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose landscape corresponds to that of this world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and think and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, beings in creature form; where the air are filled with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, vehicles are ridden and beverages is sipped, and older scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still distinctly the sharp and persistent main character of the prior volumes, but more mature, sadder, more careful, less sure. This limitation is intensified by her split from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to depart in search of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an quality which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled Lyra undertake a picaresque trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and risk on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the church's governing authority, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, bureaucratic malice – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. The antagonist – our protagonist's uncle, who faults her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of head of the church's High Council, and is set on using his fresh authority to broaden the church's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued baby the heroine to refuge along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an academic with a sideline in spycraft: he is assigned to the city to find out more about Delamare's intentions. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious essential oil which manifests mysteriously to be the origin of a societal and economic disturbance rippling out from the region. The substance is seen by some as a marketable product, by others as a empirical or esoteric wonder, and by further factions – the extremist "highland figures" – as a origin of evil; an insult that must be obliterated. The question of where it comes from, what it stands for, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in the first series, our protagonist's deeds, and her fate, are demonstrated to be inseparably connected with the fate of the world
In its predecessor, these plots ran largely in tandem. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to the original series, Lyra's actions and her path are revealed to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the realm. Her private quest to reconnect with her companion and regain her vision becomes the primary battleground in a larger war with an authoritarian system which, as these systems always have, is seeking to stifle autonomy of thinking, originality and art: all the inner, defiant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The story begins with the unveiling of a set of strange openings in the fabric of the planet's air: windows that appear to give on to other worlds. A particular portal manifests to be the source of the highly contested botanical substance. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its helm, classifies these windows as a challenge to the institution's doctrine and sets out to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to move from rigid rationalism and revert to intuition, nevertheless, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that their meaning and their value is mysteriously crucial – grows. "Dust, or the substance, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a Blakean struggle between innocence and experience is established.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
