Things are collapsing in the last installment of The Dust Trilogy, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a realm that appears, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or restructuring themselves along new and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from governments, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the coffers of conglomerates, the hands of rioters. "An element is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were firm and durable are faltering and giving way."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Exactly what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels this final volume, which resumes where the previous book concluded. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's last venture into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting realm he first unveiled in the distant past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography maps on to that of this world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, essences in animal form; where the heavens are teeming with witches and gryphons, but beneath those skies, vehicles are ridden and drinks is consumed, and middle-aged scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still clearly the prickly and determined protagonist of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, warier, less certain. This restraint is intensified by her division from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to depart in pursuit of that youthful part of her which she seems to have lost (an trait which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which followed Lyra undertake a wandering journey across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in motion, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the church's governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of austere, administrative malice – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's uncle, who faults her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of leader of the church's High Council, and is intent on using his fresh influence to broaden the religion's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who carried baby the heroine to refuge along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is dispatched to a key location to discover more about the antagonist's plans. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and valuable botanical extract which manifests mysteriously to be the cause of a social and economic crisis spreading out from that area. The extract is viewed by various factions as a tradeable product, by others as a research-based or spiritual phenomenon, and by further factions – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a source of malevolence; an affront that must be eradicated. The issue of its source, its meaning, and whether it should be removed or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like His Dark Materials, the heroine's deeds, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be inextricably linked with the fate of the realm
In its predecessor, these plots ran broadly in tandem. In the conclusion, they merge. Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's movements and her destiny are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the universe. Her personal mission to reunite with her daemon and recover her creativity becomes the primary conflict in a larger conflict with an oppressive regime which, as these systems typically do, is attempting to suppress independence of thought, creativity and expression: all the internal, rebellious ways in which humans can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The story begins with the discovery of a collection of strange cracks in the structure of the planet's atmosphere: gateways that seem to lead to alternate realities. An example of a portal seems to be the origin of the highly contested rose oil. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its head, labels these portals as a problem to the institution's doctrine and aims to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from rigid rationalism and revert to instinct, however, her belief that these sites must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is mysteriously crucial – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a philosophical tussle between naivety and maturity is set.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
