Things are collapsing in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the next of the author's masterful trilogies set in a world that manifests, here more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or restructuring themselves along new and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from states, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the control of crowds. "Some force is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Things we thought were firm and solid are deteriorating and collapsing."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels this final volume, which resumes where its predecessor concluded. This is, reportedly, Pullman's final excursion into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating world he first unveiled three decades past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose geography aligns with that of this world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and reason and behave like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, beings in beast form; where the heavens are filled with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, vehicles are ridden and drinks is consumed, and older professors carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the prequel, the prequel with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still clearly the spiky and persistent protagonist of the prior volumes, but aged, more sorrowful, warier, less sure. This circumscription is heightened by her separation from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to go off in quest of that innocent part of her which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with amazement and danger on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, bureaucratic evil – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's uncle, who blames her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of president of the Magisterium's High Council, and is determined on using his newfound influence to expand the institution's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who saved infant the heroine to security along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in intelligence work: he is assigned to the city to learn more about his aims. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and precious rose oil which appears somehow to be the cause of a social and financial crisis spreading out from Central Asia. The substance is viewed by some as a marketable product, by different parties as a research-based or esoteric miracle, and by yet others – the extremist "highland figures" – as a origin of malevolence; an challenge that must be eradicated. The question of its origins, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or preserved is escalating in importance.
Similar to the original trilogy, Lyra's decisions, and her destiny, are shown 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 come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's movements and her destiny are unveiled to be inextricably woven with the future of the world. Her private journey to reconnect with her daemon and rediscover her imagination becomes the central battleground in a wider war with an authoritarian government which, as such regimes always have, is attempting to quell independence of reason, creativity and art: all the personal, defiant ways in which people can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The story opens with the discovery of a collection of strange openings in the fabric of the world's air: windows that seem to lead to different dimensions. A particular portal appears to be the origin of the much debated rose oil. The church, with the antagonist at its head, designates these windows as a problem to the institution's doctrine and sets out to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from strict reason and back to intuition, yet, her conviction that these sites must be protected – that their significance and what they offer is in some way crucial – strengthens. "The substance, or the extract, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or whatever we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a philosophical conflict between innocence and knowledge is established.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
