Tings are unraveling in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that appears, in this volume especially, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and troubling lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is draining from authorities, and gathering in the halls of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says businessman a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and solid are weakening and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Just what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that propels this final volume, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, according to many, Pullman's last foray into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting universe he first unveiled three decades past, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose geography corresponds to that of this world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, beings in animal form; where the skies are filled with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but below, transports are caught and drinks is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the first volume, the origin story with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a adult: still clearly the sharp and persistent main character of the prior volumes, but older, melancholic, more cautious, more doubtful. This restraint is amplified by her division from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to depart in search of that youthful part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an quality which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which chronicled Lyra undertake a adventurous voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with amazement and peril on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in play, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the faith's governing authority, and the author's masterfully eerie representation of austere, administrative malice – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's uncle, who faults her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the church's ruling assembly, and is set on using his newfound power to extend the religion's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who saved young Lyra to safety along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to a key location to learn more about the antagonist's aims. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the uncommon and costly botanical extract which appears in some way to be the cause of a social and economic disturbance emanating out from Central Asia. The oil is seen by certain groups as a tradeable product, by different parties as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by yet others – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a source of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The question of its source, its significance, and if it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.
Similar to the original trilogy, the heroine's actions, and her future, are revealed to be deeply connected with the future of the realm
In its predecessor, these storylines ran broadly in side by side. In this final book, they merge. Similar to the first trilogy, her actions and her path are unveiled to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the world. Her individual quest to reunite with her soul and recover her vision becomes the primary battleground in a broader battle with an oppressive system which, as these systems often attempt, is striving to suppress independence of thinking, innovation and expression: all the personal, resistant ways in which individuals can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The book starts with the discovery of a collection of strange fissures in the structure of the world's atmosphere: gateways that seem to lead to different dimensions. An example of a portal seems to be the source of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its head, labels these openings as a problem to the church's doctrine and endeavors to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to shift from rigid reason and return to feeling, yet, her belief that these places must be preserved – that their significance and what they provide is somehow essential – increases. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a poetic conflict between naivety and experience is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
