Things are falling apart in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that appears, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along new and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from states, and accumulating in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the hands of rioters. "Something is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and strong are weakening and failing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Just what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that animates this final volume, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, reportedly, the author's final venture into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting world he first introduced three decades past, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose terrain aligns with that of our world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and reason and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, souls in beast form; where the air are populated with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but below, transports are taken and tea is drunk, and mature scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a child in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still clearly the spiky and determined heroine of the earlier books, but more mature, melancholic, warier, less certain. This limitation is heightened by her division from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to go off in pursuit of that youthful part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an quality which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed Lyra undertake a wandering trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with marvel and peril on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in play, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of rigid, procedural evil – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the role of leader of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his fresh influence to extend the church's control. A key character, who rescued young Lyra to safety along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to Geneva to discover more about his intentions. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and valuable botanical extract which manifests in some way to be the origin of a societal and economic upheaval emanating out from that area. The oil is viewed by some as a tradeable good, by different parties as a research-based or mystical wonder, and by yet others – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a source of evil; an challenge that must be destroyed. The issue of its origins, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in the original trilogy, our protagonist's deeds, and her future, are revealed to be inextricably linked with the future of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran largely in tandem. In The Rose Field, they come together. As in the original series, the protagonist's choices and her destiny are shown to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the realm. Her individual quest to reconnect with her soul and rediscover her vision becomes the key battleground in a broader battle with an oppressive regime which, as such regimes often attempt, is striving to quell freedom of thought, originality and art: all the internal, resistant ways in which humans can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The book starts with the finding of a series of curious openings in the structure of the Earth's sky: portals that appear to give on to other worlds. An example of a opening appears to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The church, with Delamare at its head, designates these portals as a problem to the institution's doctrine and endeavors to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict logic and back to intuition, nevertheless, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that their meaning and what they provide is in some way essential – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a poetic struggle between innocence and maturity is established.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
