Tings are falling apart in the last installment of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that manifests, in this volume especially, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from governments, and accumulating in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the hands of crowds. "Some force is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says trader a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and durable are deteriorating and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Just what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that drives this final volume, which picks up where its predecessor concluded. This is, reportedly, the author's last excursion into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating realm he first introduced in the distant past, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography aligns with that of this world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals appear and think and behave like us, but are accompanied by daemons, souls in creature form; where the air are teeming with witches and gryphons, but beneath those skies, vehicles are taken and beverages is drunk, and older professors carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still recognisably the sharp and determined protagonist of the prior volumes, but aged, more sorrowful, more cautious, less sure. This restraint is amplified by her split from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to go off in pursuit of that childlike part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an quality which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which saw the protagonist undertake a wandering journey across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the religious controlling power, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of strict, bureaucratic wickedness – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's family member, who blames her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the position of president of the authority's governing body, and is set on using his newfound power to expand the religion's control. Malcolm Polstead, who saved young the heroine to refuge along a swollen Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in spycraft: he is dispatched to a key location to learn more about Delamare's intentions. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and precious rose oil which manifests mysteriously to be the cause of a societal and economic upheaval spreading out from that area. The substance is regarded by certain groups as a marketable good, by different parties as a empirical or mystical wonder, and by others still – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an challenge that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its source, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the first series, our protagonist's decisions, and her fate, are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the realm
In its predecessor, these storylines ran largely in parallel. In this final book, they converge. Like His Dark Materials, the protagonist's choices and her path are unveiled to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the universe. Her personal mission to reconnect with her daemon and regain her vision becomes the central struggle in a larger war with an controlling government which, as such regimes often attempt, is seeking to suppress autonomy of thinking, innovation and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The story opens with the finding of a series of unusual fissures in the fabric of the planet's atmosphere: gateways that look to lead to other worlds. A particular opening seems to be the point of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The church, with its leader at its head, labels these portals as a threat to the institution's beliefs and sets out to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to move from strict rationalism and return to instinct, however, her certainty that these places must be preserved – that what they stand for and what they provide is mysteriously crucial – increases. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or whatever we call it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a poetic struggle between innocence and knowledge is established.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
