Tings are unraveling in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a realm that seems, now more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from states, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, silently, gradually", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and strong are faltering and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Exactly what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that animates The Rose Field, which continues where the previous book ended. This is, reportedly, Pullman's concluding venture into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose terrain aligns with that of our world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals appear and think and act like us, but are joined by daemons, souls in animal form; where the heavens are teeming with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, transports are caught and tea is drunk, and older professors carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a child in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a baby in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the sharp and tenacious protagonist of the prior volumes, but more mature, sadder, warier, less sure. This restraint is intensified by her split from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to go off in search of that innocent part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with wonder and danger on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the religious controlling power, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of austere, administrative malice – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of president of the church's governing body, and is intent on using his newfound influence to expand the religion's rule. Another protagonist, who carried infant the heroine to refuge along a flooded river as an child in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a sideline in spycraft: he is assigned to the city to find out more about the antagonist's aims. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and valuable botanical extract which appears in some way to be the origin of a social and economic crisis rippling out from Central Asia. The oil is regarded by some as a commercial product, by different parties as a empirical or esoteric phenomenon, and by others still – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of evil; an challenge that must be eradicated. The dilemma of where it comes from, its meaning, and whether it should be eliminated or preserved is escalating in importance.
Like the first series, our protagonist's deeds, and her fate, are demonstrated to be inextricably connected with the fate of the realm
In its predecessor, these storylines ran broadly in side by side. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to the original series, Lyra's actions and her fate are unveiled to be inseparably woven with the destiny of the universe. Her private mission to rejoin with her companion and recover her imagination becomes the primary battleground in a wider battle with an authoritarian regime which, as such authorities typically do, is striving to suppress freedom of thinking, originality and culture: all the personal, resistant ways in which individuals can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The novel opens with the unveiling of a set of strange cracks in the makeup of the world's air: gateways that look to open into other worlds. An example of a opening seems to be the source of the highly contested mystical extract. The church, with its leader at its helm, classifies these windows as a threat to the church's beliefs and sets out to destroy them. As Lyra begins to move from strict logic and return to intuition, however, her certainty that these places must be preserved – that their significance and what they offer is mysteriously crucial – increases. "Dust, or the extract, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a philosophical struggle between purity and knowledge is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
