Things are collapsing in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that appears, in this volume especially, as a energized and tilted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or restructuring themselves along new and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from authorities, and gathering in the chambers of religious leaders, the treasuries of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says businessman a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his place in an city cafe. "Things we thought were secure and durable are deteriorating and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Just what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that drives this final volume, which continues where the previous book left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final excursion into the carefully crafted, infinitely beguiling world he first introduced three decades past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose landscape corresponds to that of our world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the people appear and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by daemons, essences in creature form; where the skies are teeming with sorceresses and gryphons, but below, buses are ridden and drinks is sipped, and older academics carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the first volume, the origin story with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still distinctly the spiky and determined main character of the prior volumes, but aged, melancholic, more cautious, less sure. This circumscription is intensified by her split from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to depart in pursuit of that youthful part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an trait which he represents as her "creativity"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a wandering voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with wonder and risk on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in action, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the religious governing authority, and Pullman's masterfully eerie representation of strict, administrative malice – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's relative, who faults her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the role of head of the church's governing body, and is set on using his recently acquired influence to broaden the institution's rule. Another protagonist, who rescued infant Lyra to refuge along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to Geneva to find out more about the antagonist's plans. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and precious botanical extract which seems in some way to be the source of a social and financial crisis rippling out from that area. The substance is regarded by various factions as a commercial commodity, by different parties as a scientific or mystical phenomenon, and by yet others – the zealous "highland figures" – as a source of darkness; an challenge that must be obliterated. The question of where it comes from, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's actions, and her future, are demonstrated to be inseparably connected with the fate of the realm
In its predecessor, these narratives ran broadly in parallel. In the conclusion, they merge. As in the original series, Lyra's movements and her path are unveiled to be deeply woven with the destiny of the universe. Her personal mission to rejoin with her soul and recover her vision becomes the key conflict in a larger battle with an authoritarian regime which, as these systems typically do, is striving to stifle freedom of thinking, creativity and art: all the personal, rebellious ways in which people can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The novel starts with the unveiling of a collection of curious fissures in the makeup of the world's air: portals that seem to open into different dimensions. One such portal manifests to be the source of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its leadership, classifies these portals as a challenge to the institution's doctrine and endeavors to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict logic and return to instinct, however, her belief that these sites must be protected – that their significance and what they offer is somehow vital – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a Blakean tussle between naivety and knowledge is established.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
