Tings are collapsing in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that appears, here more than ever, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is draining from states, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the grasp of crowds. "An element is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says merchant a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Things we thought were firm and solid are faltering and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Just what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that propels this final volume, which picks up where the previous book left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's final venture into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting universe he first unveiled in the distant past, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a world whose geography corresponds to that of the real world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, beings in creature form; where the skies are filled with enchantresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, transports are taken and drinks is sipped, and mature professors carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began the series, is now a young woman: still recognisably the spiky and tenacious protagonist of the prior volumes, but older, sadder, more careful, less certain. This limitation is intensified by her split from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to depart in quest of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled Lyra undertake a adventurous journey across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with amazement and danger on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in play, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and the author's masterfully eerie embodiment of austere, bureaucratic wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's uncle, who blames her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of leader of the authority's High Council, and is intent on using his fresh influence to extend the institution's control. Malcolm Polstead, who carried young Lyra to security along a flooded Thames as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in spycraft: he is dispatched to the city to learn more about his plans. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and precious rose oil which manifests in some way to be the cause of a societal and economic crisis rippling out from that area. The substance is viewed by various factions as a tradeable product, by others as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by others still – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a source of malevolence; an affront that must be obliterated. The issue of its origins, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like the original trilogy, our protagonist's actions, and her future, are revealed to be inseparably linked with the fate of the world
In its predecessor, these plots ran largely in tandem. In The Rose Field, they come together. Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's movements and her fate are shown to be inextricably woven with the destiny of the realm. Her individual quest to reconnect with her soul and regain her creativity becomes the key battleground in a wider conflict with an authoritarian system which, as these systems often attempt, is attempting to quell freedom of thinking, innovation and culture: all the inner, resistant ways in which people can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The book starts with the finding of a collection of strange openings in the fabric of the world's air: gateways that look to lead to alternate realities. A particular window manifests to be the origin of the highly contested botanical substance. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its head, classifies these portals as a threat to the institution's orthodoxy and sets out to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to move from inflexible reason and revert to instinct, nevertheless, her certainty that these locations must be defended – that their meaning and their value is in some way vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we call it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a philosophical tussle between purity and maturity is set.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
