Tings are unraveling in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that appears, in this volume especially, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from states, and accumulating in the offices of theocrats, the coffers of conglomerates, the grasp of mobs. "Something is at work, stealthily, gradually", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his place in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and durable are deteriorating and giving way."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels this final volume, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final foray into the elaborately built, deeply captivating universe he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose terrain corresponds to that of the real world, but whose history veers and changes with ours; where the people look and think and behave like us, but are paired by animal souls, beings in beast form; where the heavens are populated with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but below, transports are caught and beverages is drunk, and older academics carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still recognisably the spiky and persistent main character of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, more cautious, less certain. This limitation is heightened by her split from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to leave in search of that youthful part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an quality which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which saw Lyra undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with amazement and danger on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in action, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the church's governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of strict, bureaucratic evil – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's relative, who faults her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of leader of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is set on using his newfound authority to broaden the institution's control. A key character, who saved baby Lyra to security along a swollen Thames as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an academic with a secondary role in spycraft: he is assigned to Geneva to find out more about his intentions. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and costly essential oil which seems in some way to be the origin of a social and economic crisis spreading out from that area. The oil is regarded by some as a commercial commodity, by different parties as a scientific or mystical phenomenon, and by others still – the zealous "highland figures" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an affront that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its source, what it stands for, and whether it should be destroyed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Like His Dark Materials, the heroine's decisions, and her future, are shown to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran broadly in side by side. In The Rose Field, they merge. As in the first trilogy, Lyra's movements and her fate are unveiled to be inseparably woven with the destiny of the universe. Her personal quest to rejoin with her daemon and recover her vision becomes the central battleground in a larger battle with an oppressive system which, as these systems always have, is striving to stifle freedom of reason, innovation and expression: all the inner, rebellious ways in which people can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The book begins with the unveiling of a series of curious openings in the makeup of the world's sky: gateways that seem to lead to other worlds. A particular window appears to be the source of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its helm, labels these windows as a threat to the church's beliefs and sets out to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to shift from strict reason and back to instinct, yet, her conviction that these sites must be protected – that their meaning and what they provide is mysteriously crucial – grows. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the vision, or the field of roses, or whatever we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a philosophical conflict between naivety and maturity is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
