Things are unraveling in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that appears, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and troubling lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from states, and gathering in the offices of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the hands of crowds. "An element is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says businessman a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and strong are faltering and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Exactly what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that drives this final volume, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, reportedly, Pullman's last excursion into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling realm he first revealed 30 years ago, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose terrain aligns with that of the real world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, souls in beast form; where the heavens are populated with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but below, transports are taken and drinks is consumed, and older academics carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first met as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the first volume, the origin story with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the prickly and persistent protagonist of the previous installments, but aged, melancholic, warier, less certain. This restraint is heightened by her separation from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to leave in pursuit of that innocent part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and risk on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in play, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of strict, procedural wickedness – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – our protagonist's uncle, who faults her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the position of leader of the Magisterium's High Council, and is determined on using his fresh power to extend the church's rule. Another protagonist, who rescued baby Lyra to refuge along a overflowing river as an child in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is assigned to a key location to find out more about the antagonist's intentions. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and precious essential oil which seems in some way to be the origin of a societal and economic crisis spreading out from Central Asia. The substance is regarded by various factions as a tradeable commodity, by others as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by further factions – the extremist "highland figures" – as a origin of darkness; an challenge that must be obliterated. The question of its source, its meaning, and if it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.
Like the first series, the heroine's deeds, and her fate, are shown to be deeply connected with the future of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in parallel. In this final book, they come together. Similar to the first trilogy, Lyra's movements and her path are shown to be deeply woven with the destiny of the universe. Her personal journey to rejoin with her daemon and regain her imagination becomes the key struggle in a broader war with an authoritarian regime which, as these systems always have, is striving to quell independence of reason, originality and culture: all the inner, defiant ways in which people can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The story starts with the finding of a series of curious openings in the fabric of the world's air: gateways that look to open into different dimensions. A particular window manifests to be the origin of the highly contested mystical extract. The church, with Delamare at its helm, labels these portals as a challenge to the institution's beliefs and endeavors to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to move from rigid rationalism and return to intuition, yet, her conviction that these places must be protected – that their significance and what they provide is somehow vital – increases. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or whatever we call it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a philosophical tussle between purity and maturity is established.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
