Things are unraveling in the last installment of The Book of Dust, the next of the author's masterful trilogies set in a realm that appears, in this volume especially, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from authorities, and accumulating in the halls of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "An element is at work, silently, very subtly", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and solid are faltering and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Just what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that drives this final volume, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, reportedly, Pullman's final venture into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling world he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a world whose geography corresponds to that of this world, but whose history veers and changes with ours; where the people look and reason and behave like us, but are paired by external spirits, essences in beast form; where the heavens are teeming with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but below, transports are taken and beverages is sipped, and mature scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the sharp and persistent main character of the previous installments, but aged, sadder, more careful, more doubtful. This limitation is amplified by her separation from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to leave in search of that youthful part of her which she appears to have shed (an trait which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and danger on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious controlling power, and the author's masterfully eerie representation of strict, procedural wickedness – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – Lyra's relative, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of leader of the church's governing body, and is intent on using his newfound influence to extend the church's rule. A key character, who carried baby Lyra to security along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an academic with a sideline in espionage: he is dispatched to a key location to discover more about the antagonist's aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious essential oil which seems in some way to be the source of a social and financial upheaval rippling out from the region. The substance is regarded by certain groups as a marketable good, by different parties as a empirical or mystical phenomenon, and by further factions – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a origin of malevolence; an challenge that must be obliterated. The issue of where it comes from, its significance, and whether it should be destroyed or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
As in the first series, the heroine's decisions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be deeply connected with the fate of the realm
In its predecessor, these plots ran largely in parallel. In the conclusion, they converge. As in the original series, her movements and her path are unveiled to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the universe. Her private journey to reconnect with her soul and recover her imagination becomes the primary struggle in a larger war with an controlling government which, as these systems often attempt, is seeking to quell independence of reason, creativity and expression: all the internal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The book opens with the discovery of a set of curious fissures in the structure of the Earth's atmosphere: portals that look to lead to alternate realities. A particular window manifests to be the source of the highly contested mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its helm, designates these windows as a problem to the church's beliefs and sets out to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to shift from strict logic and back to instinct, yet, her belief that these sites must be defended – that their meaning and what they offer is somehow crucial – increases. "Dust, or the extract, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a poetic struggle between purity and knowledge is established.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
