Things are collapsing in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the next of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that appears, here more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and troubling lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is draining from states, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the hands of mobs. "Something is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and solid are weakening and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that propels the concluding book, which resumes where its predecessor ended. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's concluding excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting world he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose geography corresponds to that of this world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans look and think and act like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, beings in beast form; where the air are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, buses are ridden and tea is drunk, and older professors carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began the series, is now a adult: still distinctly the spiky and persistent protagonist of the previous installments, but aged, melancholic, more careful, less sure. This circumscription is amplified by her division from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to depart in quest of that youthful part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an quality which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which followed Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and risk on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in play, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of strict, bureaucratic malice – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's family member, who faults her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the position of leader of the authority's High Council, and is intent on using his fresh influence to expand the religion's control. Malcolm Polstead, who saved infant Lyra to refuge along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in spycraft: he is sent to a key location to find out more about the antagonist's aims. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and precious botanical extract which seems somehow to be the origin of a societal and economic disturbance spreading out from the region. The extract is seen by some as a tradeable commodity, by different parties as a empirical or mystical miracle, and by further factions – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a source of evil; an challenge that must be destroyed. The question of where it comes from, its significance, and whether it should be destroyed or protected is escalating in importance.
Like the first series, Lyra's actions, and her destiny, are shown to be inseparably linked with the future of the universe
In its predecessor, these narratives ran mostly in parallel. In this final book, they come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, her choices and her path are shown to be inextricably linked with the fate of the universe. Her personal quest to reunite with her companion and recover her vision becomes the central conflict in a wider battle with an oppressive system which, as such authorities always have, is striving to quell autonomy of reason, creativity and expression: all the inner, defiant ways in which individuals can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The story starts with the discovery of a set of curious cracks in the structure of the world's atmosphere: windows that look to lead to alternate realities. A particular opening appears to be the origin of the much debated botanical substance. The authority, with Delamare at its helm, classifies these portals as a problem to the religion's orthodoxy and sets out to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from rigid rationalism and back to feeling, however, her belief that these sites must be defended – that their meaning and their value is in some way vital – strengthens. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a Blakean tussle between innocence and experience is prepared.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
