Things are unraveling in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the second of the author's masterful trilogies set in a realm that manifests, here more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or restructuring themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from authorities, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the control of mobs. "Some force is at work, silently, gradually", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his place in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and strong are weakening and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Exactly what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that propels the concluding book, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, according to many, Pullman's final foray into the elaborately built, deeply captivating universe he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a world whose geography corresponds to that of our world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and reason and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, souls in beast form; where the skies are teeming with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but below, vehicles are ridden and drinks is consumed, and mature academics carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still clearly the sharp and tenacious protagonist of the previous installments, but more mature, melancholic, more cautious, more doubtful. This limitation is heightened by her split from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to leave in quest of that childlike part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an quality which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which followed the protagonist undertake a wandering journey across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with marvel and risk on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in play, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the church's governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of austere, administrative wickedness – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. The antagonist – Lyra's family member, who blames her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of head of the authority's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his newfound authority to extend the institution's rule. A key character, who carried young the heroine to security along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an academic with a sideline in intelligence work: he is dispatched to a key location to discover more about Delamare's plans. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and costly botanical extract which manifests in some way to be the cause of a social and financial crisis emanating out from that area. The extract is regarded by some as a tradeable good, by others as a scientific or spiritual wonder, and by others still – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an insult that must be obliterated. The issue of its origins, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is escalating in importance.
As in His Dark Materials, the heroine's deeds, and her fate, are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the fate of the world
In the previous volume, these plots ran mostly in tandem. In this final book, they come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's movements and her fate are revealed to be deeply entwined with the fate of the universe. Her private journey to rejoin with her companion and rediscover her imagination becomes the primary battleground in a larger battle with an authoritarian regime which, as these systems always have, is seeking to quell independence of thinking, originality and art: all the internal, resistant ways in which humans can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The book starts with the unveiling of a set of unusual cracks in the makeup of the planet's atmosphere: portals that seem to give on to other worlds. An example of a portal manifests to be the source of the highly contested botanical substance. The authority, with its leader at its leadership, classifies these portals as a threat to the institution's doctrine and aims to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to move from strict reason and revert to instinct, yet, her conviction that these sites must be defended – that their meaning and what they provide is in some way vital – strengthens. "Dust, or the substance, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a philosophical tussle between purity and experience is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
