Things are falling apart in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that appears, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from authorities, and pooling in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the grasp of crowds. "Some force is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and solid are deteriorating and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's last venture into the elaborately built, deeply captivating realm he first revealed three decades past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography aligns with that of the real world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and reason and behave like us, but are paired by animal souls, souls in beast form; where the air are teeming with witches and gryphons, but underneath, vehicles are caught and tea is sipped, and middle-aged academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a child in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the prequel, the origin story with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the spiky and persistent main character of the prior volumes, but older, sadder, more careful, less certain. This limitation is amplified by her division from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to go off in quest of that youthful part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a wandering journey across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and peril on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister incarnation of strict, bureaucratic wickedness – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the role of leader of the Magisterium's High Council, and is set on using his recently acquired power to extend the religion's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued baby Lyra to security along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a secondary role in espionage: he is sent to the city to find out more about Delamare's aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and costly essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a social and financial disturbance spreading out from the region. The substance is regarded by some as a tradeable product, by alternate groups as a research-based or esoteric phenomenon, and by yet others – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of evil; an affront that must be eradicated. The issue of its source, its significance, and if it should be removed or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
Like His Dark Materials, our protagonist's actions, and her future, are shown to be deeply linked with the destiny of the universe
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in parallel. In the conclusion, they come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions and her path are unveiled to be inseparably linked with the fate of the world. Her private journey to reunite with her soul and regain her vision becomes the central struggle in a wider war with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes always have, is striving to stifle freedom of thinking, originality and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which people can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The book starts with the unveiling of a collection of strange fissures in the fabric of the Earth's sky: gateways that appear to open into different dimensions. A particular portal manifests to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its head, labels these portals as a threat to the religion's orthodoxy and endeavors to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from strict logic and back to feeling, however, her certainty that these locations must be preserved – that what they stand for and what they offer is mysteriously crucial – grows. "Dust, or the extract, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a Blakean struggle between innocence and maturity is established.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
