Things are falling apart in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that appears, now more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along novel and troubling lines. An unseen 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 states, and accumulating in the halls of theocrats, the treasuries of business empires, the control of mobs. "An element is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and solid are deteriorating and giving way."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that animates this final volume, which picks up where the previous book concluded. This is, reportedly, Pullman's last venture into the elaborately built, deeply captivating universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose terrain corresponds to that of our world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and think and behave like us, but are joined by daemons, souls in beast form; where the skies are teeming with witches and mythical beasts, but underneath, transports are ridden and beverages is consumed, and mature academics carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the prickly and determined heroine of the previous installments, but more mature, more sorrowful, more careful, less certain. This limitation is heightened by her separation from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to leave in pursuit of that innocent part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an quality which he represents as her "vision"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and risk on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's masterfully eerie incarnation of rigid, procedural wickedness – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's uncle, who faults her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the role of leader of the church's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his newfound power to expand the church's dominium. Another protagonist, who rescued baby the heroine to safety along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to Geneva to find out more about the antagonist's aims. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and valuable rose oil which appears in some way to be the source of a societal and financial crisis rippling out from Central Asia. The substance is regarded by various factions as a tradeable commodity, by alternate groups as a empirical or spiritual miracle, and by yet others – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a wellspring of darkness; an insult that must be eradicated. The issue of its origins, its meaning, and whether it should be destroyed or preserved is escalating in importance.
Like the original trilogy, Lyra's decisions, and her future, are shown to be deeply linked with the fate of the world
In its predecessor, these plots ran broadly in parallel. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to the first trilogy, the protagonist's movements and her path are shown to be deeply linked with the future of the realm. Her private mission to reconnect with her companion and regain her imagination becomes the key struggle in a broader battle with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes always have, is attempting to quell independence of thought, creativity and expression: all the inner, resistant ways in which humans can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The novel opens with the finding of a collection of strange fissures in the structure of the world's atmosphere: portals that look to lead to other worlds. One such portal manifests to be the origin of the much debated mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its helm, designates these windows as a challenge to the religion's beliefs and sets out to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to shift from inflexible logic and return to intuition, however, her belief that these locations must be defended – that their significance and what they provide is in some way crucial – increases. "Dust, or the extract, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a philosophical tussle between naivety and knowledge is established.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
