Things are falling apart in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that appears, now more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or restructuring themselves along new and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from authorities, and accumulating in the offices of theocrats, the treasuries of corporations, the hands of rioters. "Something is at work, silently, very subtly", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and strong are faltering and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Precisely what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that drives this final volume, which continues where the previous book concluded. This is, by all accounts, the author's final venture into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling world he first introduced in the distant past, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose terrain aligns with that of this world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and act like us, but are paired by daemons, essences in beast form; where the air are filled with witches and gryphons, but below, buses are caught and beverages is consumed, and mature professors carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still clearly the spiky and persistent protagonist of the previous installments, but more mature, melancholic, more careful, less certain. This restraint is heightened by her split from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to depart in quest of that childlike part of her which she seems to have lost (an trait which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled Lyra undertake a wandering trek across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and danger on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the church's ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of austere, procedural evil – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's uncle, who faults her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of head of the church's governing body, and is determined on using his recently acquired authority to broaden the church's rule. A key character, who rescued young the heroine to refuge along a swollen river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a sideline in spycraft: he is sent to Geneva to find out more about the antagonist's plans. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and precious rose oil which manifests mysteriously to be the source of a social and economic disturbance emanating out from the region. The oil is regarded by some as a marketable product, by alternate groups as a research-based or spiritual wonder, and by yet others – the extremist "highland figures" – as a origin of malevolence; an affront that must be obliterated. The question of its source, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
Like the original trilogy, Lyra's deeds, and her future, are demonstrated to be inseparably linked with the fate of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran mostly in side by side. In this final book, they merge. Like His Dark Materials, her movements and her fate are shown to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the universe. Her personal quest to reconnect with her companion and rediscover her vision becomes the primary battleground in a broader battle with an authoritarian system which, as these systems often attempt, is seeking to suppress freedom of reason, creativity and culture: all the personal, defiant ways in which people can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The book begins with the finding of a series of strange openings in the structure of the Earth's air: windows that appear to give on to alternate realities. A particular opening appears to be the point of the much debated rose oil. The authority, with its leader at its helm, classifies these portals as a challenge to the institution's orthodoxy and endeavors to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from strict rationalism and return to feeling, however, her belief that these places must be protected – that their meaning and their value is in some way crucial – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the vision, or the field of roses, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a philosophical conflict between innocence and maturity is established.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
