Things are collapsing in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, in this volume especially, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from states, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of business empires, the grasp of crowds. "Some force is at work, very quietly, gradually", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and strong are faltering and failing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Precisely what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that drives the concluding book, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final excursion into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting realm he first unveiled three decades past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose geography aligns with that of this world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the humans look and reason and act like us, but are paired by external spirits, beings in beast form; where the heavens are populated with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but below, vehicles are caught and tea is sipped, and mature scholars carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the first volume, the introductory book with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still clearly the prickly and determined protagonist of the prior volumes, but older, more sorrowful, more careful, less certain. This limitation is amplified by her split from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to leave in quest of that youthful part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a adventurous journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with wonder and risk on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister embodiment of austere, procedural wickedness – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's uncle, who faults her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of head of the Magisterium's High Council, and is determined on using his recently acquired influence to expand the institution's control. Malcolm Polstead, who carried young the heroine to security along a flooded Thames as an child in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to a key location to find out more about the antagonist's intentions. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and costly essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the source of a social and economic crisis emanating out from that area. The extract is seen by some as a tradeable product, by alternate groups as a research-based or esoteric phenomenon, and by others still – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a source of malevolence; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of its source, its meaning, and whether it should be removed or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in the original trilogy, our protagonist's deeds, and her fate, are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the future of the realm
In its predecessor, these narratives ran mostly in side by side. In the conclusion, they come together. Similar to the original series, Lyra's movements and her path are shown to be deeply entwined with the future of the world. Her private mission to rejoin with her daemon and rediscover her creativity becomes the central struggle in a broader battle with an authoritarian regime which, as such authorities often attempt, is attempting to quell freedom of reason, creativity and art: all the personal, resistant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The book starts with the unveiling of a set of curious fissures in the fabric of the world's air: windows that look to lead to other worlds. One such window appears to be the point of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its helm, designates these windows as a threat to the institution's orthodoxy and endeavors to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict reason and revert to intuition, nevertheless, her conviction that these places must be protected – that their meaning and what they offer is in some way vital – increases. "The substance, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a Blakean tussle between purity and knowledge is established.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
