Things are falling apart in the concluding book of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that appears, here more than ever, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from governments, and gathering in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of business empires, the grasp of crowds. "Some force is at work, silently, gradually", says merchant a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and strong are faltering and failing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that drives this final volume, which continues where its predecessor concluded. This is, reportedly, the author's last foray into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting universe he first revealed three decades past, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a world whose geography maps on to that of the real world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and think and behave like us, but are joined by daemons, beings in beast form; where the air are teeming with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but below, transports are caught and drinks is consumed, and mature academics carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a child in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still distinctly the prickly and persistent main character of the earlier books, but older, more sorrowful, warier, less sure. This limitation is intensified by her separation from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to depart in pursuit of that childlike part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a wandering journey across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with amazement and danger on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the faith's ruling body, and Pullman's masterfully eerie representation of austere, bureaucratic evil – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's uncle, who faults her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the authority's governing body, and is intent on using his fresh authority to expand the religion's dominium. Another protagonist, who carried baby Lyra to refuge along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in espionage: he is sent to Geneva to find out more about Delamare's aims. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and costly essential oil which manifests in some way to be the cause of a societal and financial upheaval emanating out from the region. The substance is seen by some as a marketable good, by alternate groups as a research-based or mystical miracle, and by further factions – the zealous "men from the mountains" – as a source of evil; an insult that must be destroyed. The dilemma of where it comes from, its significance, and if it should be removed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
As in the original trilogy, the heroine's deeds, and her future, are shown to be inextricably connected with the destiny of the universe
In its predecessor, these plots ran largely in parallel. In the conclusion, they converge. As in the original series, the protagonist's actions and her path are unveiled to be deeply linked with the fate of the universe. Her individual quest to reunite with her companion and regain her creativity becomes the key conflict in a broader war with an controlling regime which, as such regimes typically do, is seeking to stifle autonomy of reason, originality and culture: all the internal, defiant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The book starts with the discovery of a series of unusual openings in the fabric of the world's atmosphere: portals that seem to lead to alternate realities. One such portal seems to be the source of the highly contested botanical substance. The authority, with Delamare at its head, classifies these windows as a challenge to the church's doctrine and endeavors to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict logic and back to intuition, nevertheless, her conviction that these locations must be protected – that their significance and what they offer is mysteriously essential – increases. "Dust, or the extract, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a Blakean conflict between purity and experience is set.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
