Things are collapsing in the last installment of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that seems, now more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along novel and troubling lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from states, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the control of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, gradually", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Things we thought were secure and solid are deteriorating and collapsing."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Exactly what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that animates the concluding book, which picks up where its predecessor ended. This is, according to many, the author's final foray into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating world he first introduced 30 years ago, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose geography aligns with that of the real world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans look and reason and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, essences in beast form; where the air are filled with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are caught and beverages is consumed, and mature scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a child in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the origin story with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the prickly and tenacious heroine of the earlier books, but more mature, sadder, more cautious, more doubtful. This circumscription is intensified by her division from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to depart in search of that childlike part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he represents as her "vision"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a adventurous voyage across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with marvel and peril on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in motion, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the faith's controlling power, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of strict, administrative wickedness – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the position of president of the authority's governing body, and is determined on using his newfound authority to broaden the religion's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who carried young Lyra to security along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to a key location to learn more about his aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and costly rose oil which seems in some way to be the source of a social and economic disturbance emanating out from the region. The oil is viewed by some as a commercial product, by others as a empirical or esoteric wonder, and by yet others – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an insult that must be obliterated. The dilemma of its source, its meaning, and whether it should be destroyed or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like the first series, Lyra's decisions, and her future, are demonstrated to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the universe
In the previous volume, these narratives ran largely in tandem. In The Rose Field, they merge. As in the first trilogy, her actions and her fate are shown to be inextricably woven with the fate of the realm. Her personal journey to reconnect with her companion and regain her creativity becomes the central conflict in a larger war with an controlling regime which, as such regimes always have, is striving to quell independence of thinking, innovation and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which people can be independent.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The story starts with the discovery of a series of unusual fissures in the structure of the Earth's sky: gateways that appear to give on to other worlds. One such portal appears to be the point of the much debated botanical substance. The Magisterium, with its leader at its head, classifies these windows as a threat to the religion's orthodoxy and sets out to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from inflexible rationalism and back to instinct, nevertheless, her belief that these sites must be defended – that what they stand for and what they offer is somehow vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a Blakean struggle between naivety and knowledge is set.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
