Things are unraveling in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, in this volume especially, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is draining from governments, and pooling in the offices of theocrats, the vaults of conglomerates, the hands of crowds. "Some force is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his seat in an city cafe. "Things we thought were stable and durable are deteriorating and failing."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that animates this final volume, which resumes where its predecessor left off. This is, by all accounts, the author's last foray into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling world he first unveiled three decades past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose terrain corresponds to that of our world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and think and behave like us, but are paired by daemons, beings in beast form; where the heavens are filled with witches and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, transports are caught and drinks is drunk, and older professors carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still clearly the prickly and determined heroine of the prior volumes, but older, more sorrowful, warier, more doubtful. This circumscription is intensified by her separation from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to depart in pursuit of that youthful part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which followed Lyra undertake a adventurous journey across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with amazement and risk on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in motion, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister incarnation of austere, procedural malice – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. The antagonist – the heroine's uncle, who faults her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the office of head of the authority's governing body, and is set on using his newfound influence to broaden the institution's control. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued young the heroine to safety along a flooded river as an child in the prequel, is now an academic with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is sent to the city to find out more about Delamare's plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and precious botanical extract which manifests in some way to be the source of a social and financial disturbance spreading out from the region. The oil is seen by some as a marketable good, by different parties as a scientific or spiritual miracle, and by further factions – the zealous "highland figures" – as a origin of darkness; an affront that must be destroyed. The issue of its origins, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or protected is escalating in importance.
As in the original trilogy, Lyra's actions, and her fate, are revealed to be inextricably connected with the destiny of the realm
In the previous volume, these narratives ran mostly in side by side. In this final book, they come together. Similar to the original series, the protagonist's actions and her destiny are shown to be inseparably entwined with the future of the world. Her personal journey to reconnect with her soul and recover her vision becomes the key struggle in a broader conflict with an authoritarian system which, as these systems often attempt, is attempting to stifle independence of thinking, creativity and expression: all the inner, defiant ways in which individuals can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The novel opens with the unveiling of a collection of unusual cracks in the makeup of the world's air: portals that look to lead to other worlds. One such window manifests to be the origin of the much debated mystical extract. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its helm, classifies these portals as a threat to the church's doctrine and sets out to destroy them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict reason and back to intuition, yet, her belief that these places must be defended – that what they stand for and what they offer is in some way crucial – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a Blakean struggle between innocence and maturity is set.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
