Things are collapsing in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a world that manifests, in this volume especially, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from states, and gathering in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and strong are weakening and giving way."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels the concluding book, which continues where its predecessor ended. This is, according to many, Pullman's final excursion 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 aligns with that of our world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and behave like us, but are joined by daemons, beings in beast form; where the skies are teeming with witches and mythical beasts, but below, transports are caught and beverages is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the first volume, the prequel with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still recognisably the spiky and persistent heroine of the earlier books, but more mature, melancholic, warier, less sure. This limitation is intensified by her separation from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to go off in search of that youthful part of her which she seems to have lost (an trait which he represents as her "creativity"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a adventurous voyage across the continent and into the Caucasus, facing with marvel and danger on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in play, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the religious ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's relative, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the role of head of the church's High Council, and is set on using his recently acquired influence to extend the institution's rule. A key character, who carried young Lyra to security along a swollen river as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in espionage: he is assigned to the city to find out more about Delamare's intentions. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and costly essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the cause of a social and financial upheaval spreading out from that area. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a marketable commodity, by others as a scientific or spiritual wonder, and by others still – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The question of where it comes from, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
As in His Dark Materials, our protagonist's deeds, and her future, are shown to be inseparably connected with the fate of the world
In the previous volume, these plots ran broadly in side by side. In this final book, they merge. Similar to the first trilogy, her movements and her fate are revealed to be inextricably linked with the future of the world. Her private quest to reconnect with her daemon and rediscover her creativity becomes the key conflict in a broader war with an authoritarian regime which, as such authorities always have, is attempting to suppress freedom of reason, originality and expression: all the personal, defiant ways in which individuals can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The story opens with the unveiling of a collection of curious cracks in the fabric of the world's sky: gateways that look to lead to different dimensions. A particular opening manifests to be the source of the highly contested botanical substance. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its head, labels these windows as a problem to the church's doctrine and endeavors to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to move from strict reason and revert to instinct, however, her belief that these locations must be defended – that what they stand for and what they offer is somehow vital – increases. "Dust, or the extract, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a philosophical tussle between purity and knowledge is established.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
