Things are falling apart in the last installment of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that manifests, in this volume especially, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reassembling themselves along new and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from governments, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the control of rioters. "Something is at work, very quietly, gradually", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Things we thought were secure and strong are faltering and giving way."
Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that drives the concluding book, which continues where its predecessor concluded. This is, reportedly, Pullman's concluding venture into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating world he first revealed in the distant past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose terrain corresponds to that of this world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and behave like us, but are joined by daemons, souls in creature form; where the skies are populated with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, vehicles are ridden and tea is sipped, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a child in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a adult: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious main character of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, warier, less sure. This restraint is heightened by her division from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to depart in search of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an trait which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a adventurous journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with marvel and risk on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in action, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the church's controlling power, and the author's deliciously chilling representation of austere, administrative evil – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's relative, who holds responsible her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the church's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his fresh influence to expand the religion's rule. A key character, who rescued infant Lyra to security along a overflowing Thames as an child in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to the city to find out more about his intentions. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and costly rose oil which appears in some way to be the source of a social and financial disturbance spreading out from Central Asia. The substance is regarded by some as a marketable commodity, by alternate groups as a scientific or mystical phenomenon, and by yet others – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a source of darkness; an challenge that must be eradicated. The question of its source, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or preserved is escalating in importance.
As in the first series, Lyra's deeds, and her fate, are shown to be deeply entwined with the fate of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran broadly in tandem. In the conclusion, they come together. Like His Dark Materials, her choices and her path are shown to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the realm. Her private journey to reconnect with her soul and regain her creativity becomes the primary conflict in a larger conflict with an controlling system which, as such authorities typically do, is seeking to suppress independence of thought, originality and art: all the internal, resistant ways in which people can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The book opens with the finding of a collection of curious fissures in the fabric of the world's sky: windows that appear to lead to different dimensions. One such window appears to be the origin of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The authority, with the antagonist at its head, designates these portals as a problem to the institution's orthodoxy and aims to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to shift from rigid logic and revert to feeling, yet, her belief that these places must be preserved – that their meaning and what they offer is somehow essential – increases. "Dust, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a philosophical tussle between innocence and knowledge is established.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
