Tings are collapsing in the last installment of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a realm that seems, here more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Establishments are failing, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is draining from authorities, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and strong are weakening and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Just what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that propels the concluding book, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, reportedly, Pullman's last foray into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling realm he first introduced 30 years ago, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose geography corresponds to that of our world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, souls in creature form; where the skies are populated with enchantresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, buses are ridden and beverages is drunk, and middle-aged professors carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still distinctly the sharp and determined heroine of the earlier books, but aged, melancholic, warier, more doubtful. This limitation is amplified by her split from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to go off in pursuit of that innocent part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he represents as her "vision"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with marvel and risk on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in play, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's masterfully eerie incarnation of rigid, procedural wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's relative, who faults her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the office of head of the Magisterium's governing body, and is set on using his newfound influence to extend the religion's control. A key character, who saved young the heroine to refuge along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a additional duty in spycraft: he is dispatched to the city to learn more about Delamare's aims. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and precious botanical extract which manifests somehow to be the source of a societal and economic disturbance spreading out from that area. The extract is regarded by some as a commercial product, by different parties as a empirical or spiritual phenomenon, and by further factions – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an insult that must be eradicated. The issue of its source, its meaning, and if it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.
Similar to the first series, the heroine's deeds, and her destiny, are revealed to be deeply entwined with the future of the world
In its predecessor, these plots ran broadly in parallel. In the conclusion, they merge. Like His Dark Materials, the protagonist's choices and her path are unveiled to be deeply woven with the destiny of the realm. Her personal quest to rejoin with her daemon and rediscover her vision becomes the primary battleground in a larger war with an controlling government which, as these systems often attempt, is seeking to quell autonomy of thinking, originality and expression: all the internal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The novel starts with the unveiling of a collection of strange openings in the makeup of the Earth's air: portals that look to give on to different dimensions. One such window manifests to be the origin of the much debated mystical extract. The church, with Delamare at its head, classifies these portals as a threat to the church's beliefs and sets out to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to move from strict rationalism and revert to intuition, yet, her certainty that these places must be preserved – that their significance and what they offer is somehow vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or no matter what we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a poetic conflict between purity and knowledge is set.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
