Tings are unraveling in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along new and troubling lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from governments, and pooling in the offices of religious leaders, the coffers of corporations, the control of crowds. "Something is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and strong are weakening and failing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that animates The Rose Field, which continues where the previous book left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's final foray into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating universe he first revealed 30 years ago, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a world whose terrain aligns with that of this world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and act like us, but are joined by external spirits, beings in animal form; where the heavens are populated with witches and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, transports are caught and beverages is sipped, and middle-aged scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a child in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the prequel, the introductory book with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still clearly the prickly and determined main character of the previous installments, but more mature, more sorrowful, more cautious, less sure. This circumscription is amplified by her division from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to depart in search of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he represents as her "creativity"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a wandering trek across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with marvel and peril on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of strict, administrative malice – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's uncle, who blames her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the office of head of the church's High Council, and is intent on using his recently acquired influence to expand the religion's dominium. Another protagonist, who carried infant the heroine to refuge along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a sideline in espionage: he is assigned to the city to learn more about his intentions. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and valuable rose oil which appears in some way to be the cause of a social and financial upheaval spreading out from Central Asia. The oil is viewed by various factions as a commercial good, by others as a empirical or spiritual miracle, and by others still – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a source of evil; an affront that must be eradicated. The question of its source, its meaning, and if it should be removed or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like His Dark Materials, the heroine's deeds, and her fate, are shown to be deeply linked with the destiny of the world
In its predecessor, these storylines ran mostly in tandem. In the conclusion, they come together. As in the original series, the protagonist's choices and her path are shown to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the universe. Her individual mission to rejoin with her soul and rediscover her imagination becomes the central battleground in a broader conflict with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes typically do, is seeking to quell freedom of reason, innovation and expression: all the personal, defiant ways in which individuals can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The story opens with the unveiling of a collection of unusual cracks in the fabric of the Earth's air: gateways that appear to lead to alternate realities. One such opening manifests to be the origin of the highly contested botanical substance. The authority, with Delamare at its head, classifies these portals as a threat to the religion's beliefs and sets out to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to move from rigid rationalism and revert to instinct, nevertheless, her certainty that these sites must be preserved – that what they stand for and what they provide is in some way vital – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a poetic struggle between naivety and maturity is established.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
