Tings are unraveling in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a universe that seems, now more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Establishments are failing, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from states, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the grasp of crowds. "Some force is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Things we thought were firm and strong are deteriorating and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Just what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that propels this final volume, which picks up where the previous book ended. This is, reportedly, Pullman's concluding foray into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose landscape corresponds to that of the real world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the individuals appear and think and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, beings in creature form; where the air are populated with witches and legendary creatures, but below, buses are ridden and tea is consumed, and middle-aged scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which the author began the series, is now a young woman: still clearly the sharp and persistent protagonist of the prior volumes, but more mature, melancholic, more careful, more doubtful. This restraint is heightened by her split from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to leave in search of that innocent part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an trait which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which chronicled Lyra undertake a picaresque trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, facing with amazement and peril on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in motion, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the religious governing authority, and the author's masterfully eerie representation of strict, procedural evil – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's family member, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of head of the authority's governing body, and is set on using his newfound influence to broaden the religion's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued young the heroine to refuge along a swollen Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an academic with a sideline in intelligence work: he is assigned to a key location to find out more about the antagonist's plans. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and precious essential oil which seems somehow to be the cause of a social and financial disturbance rippling out from Central Asia. The extract is regarded by various factions as a commercial good, by different parties as a research-based or esoteric wonder, and by others still – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a origin of malevolence; an insult that must be obliterated. The question of its origins, its meaning, and whether it should be destroyed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
As in the original trilogy, our protagonist's decisions, and her future, are shown to be inextricably connected with the fate of the universe
In the previous volume, these narratives ran broadly in side by side. In the conclusion, they come together. As in the original series, the protagonist's actions and her fate are unveiled to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the realm. Her private quest to reconnect with her daemon and regain her creativity becomes the primary battleground in a wider war with an controlling regime which, as such regimes always have, is attempting to stifle independence of reason, originality and culture: all the internal, resistant ways in which people can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The story opens with the finding of a set of curious fissures in the makeup of the planet's atmosphere: gateways that look to give on to different dimensions. An example of a portal manifests to be the origin of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The authority, with the antagonist at its helm, designates these openings as a challenge to the religion's doctrine and endeavors to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from inflexible reason and revert to intuition, nevertheless, her conviction that these locations must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is somehow crucial – increases. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a poetic tussle between purity and knowledge is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
