Things are collapsing in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the next of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a world that manifests, in this volume especially, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along novel and troubling lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from states, and accumulating in the offices of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the control of rioters. "Something is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says trader a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and strong are faltering and failing."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Just what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that animates the concluding book, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding foray into the elaborately built, deeply captivating universe he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose geography corresponds to that of our world, but whose history veers and changes with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, beings in creature form; where the air are populated with sorceresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, transports are taken and drinks is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a child in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still clearly the prickly and determined main character of the earlier books, but older, melancholic, more cautious, less certain. This restraint is amplified by her separation from her daemon, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to depart in pursuit of that innocent part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an trait which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with marvel and risk on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in action, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the church's ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of rigid, procedural evil – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's relative, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the role of leader of the church's High Council, and is intent on using his newfound power to expand the institution's dominium. Another protagonist, who saved baby Lyra to safety along a flooded Thames as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a secondary role in spycraft: he is sent to the city to discover more about Delamare's intentions. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and costly botanical extract which manifests somehow to be the cause of a societal and financial disturbance spreading out from the region. The oil is regarded by various factions as a marketable good, by others as a scientific or spiritual phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an insult that must be eradicated. The question of its origins, its significance, and whether it should be eliminated or preserved is becoming urgent.
Like His Dark Materials, our protagonist's decisions, and her fate, are shown to be deeply connected with the fate of the world
In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in parallel. In the conclusion, they come together. Similar to the original series, the protagonist's actions and her destiny are revealed to be inseparably linked with the future of the world. Her personal mission to reconnect with her companion and regain her vision becomes the primary battleground in a wider war with an controlling system which, as such regimes typically do, is striving to quell freedom of reason, originality and culture: all the internal, defiant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The story begins with the finding of a set of strange openings in the structure of the planet's air: portals that seem to open into alternate realities. An example of a window seems to be the source of the highly contested botanical substance. The church, with the antagonist at its head, labels these openings as a threat to the religion's beliefs and sets out to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict rationalism and revert to feeling, however, her conviction that these places must be defended – that what they stand for and their value is somehow crucial – grows. "Dust, or the substance, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a philosophical conflict between purity and knowledge is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
