Things are unraveling in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the next of the author's masterful trilogies set in a world that seems, here more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or reassembling themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from authorities, and pooling in the offices of religious leaders, the coffers of business empires, the control of rioters. "An element is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were stable and durable are weakening and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where its predecessor concluded. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's concluding foray into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating world he first revealed 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose landscape maps on to that of this world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, essences in beast form; where the skies are filled with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, transports are ridden and tea is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a child in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious main character of the previous installments, but more mature, melancholic, warier, more doubtful. This restraint is intensified by her division from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to go off in search of that childlike part of her which she may have forgotten (an quality which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a wandering trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with amazement and danger on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in action, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the religious controlling power, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, administrative evil – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's relative, who blames her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the role of leader of the Magisterium's governing body, and is intent on using his recently acquired authority to expand the institution's rule. A key character, who saved infant Lyra to safety along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an academic with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is sent to the city to learn more about his plans. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and valuable botanical extract which manifests mysteriously to be the cause of a societal and financial disturbance spreading out from that area. The substance is seen by some as a tradeable product, by others as a research-based or esoteric phenomenon, and by yet others – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of evil; an challenge that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its source, what it stands for, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is becoming urgent.
Like the original trilogy, our protagonist's actions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be inseparably linked with the future of the realm
In its predecessor, these storylines ran mostly in tandem. In this final book, they converge. As in the original series, Lyra's movements and her fate are shown to be inextricably woven with the destiny of the universe. Her private quest to rejoin with her soul and regain her imagination becomes the primary battleground in a wider battle with an authoritarian regime which, as such regimes typically do, is seeking to stifle independence of reason, originality and art: all the personal, rebellious ways in which humans can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The novel starts with the finding of a series of strange cracks in the makeup of the world's sky: portals that look to open into different dimensions. A particular portal seems to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The Magisterium, with its leader at its helm, labels these portals as a challenge to the religion's orthodoxy and endeavors to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from rigid rationalism and revert to instinct, nevertheless, her conviction that these sites must be defended – that what they stand for and what they offer is in some way essential – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we call it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a philosophical struggle between innocence and knowledge is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
