Things are falling apart in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a world that seems, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is draining from states, and accumulating in the halls of theocrats, the treasuries of business empires, the grasp of mobs. "An element is at work, very quietly, gradually", says trader a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were firm and strong are faltering and failing."
Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that propels the concluding book, which continues where its predecessor concluded. This is, reportedly, the author's last venture into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating realm he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose geography maps on to that of the real world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the individuals appear and think and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, beings in beast form; where the heavens are filled with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are ridden and tea is sipped, and older professors carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a child in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the spiky and tenacious main character of the earlier books, but older, melancholic, more cautious, more doubtful. This restraint is amplified by her division from her daemon, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to go off in pursuit of that youthful part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an quality which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her mission to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with marvel and danger on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in action, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister embodiment of austere, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's relative, who blames her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of leader of the church's governing body, and is intent on using his newfound influence to broaden the religion's control. Another protagonist, who rescued infant the heroine to safety along a flooded Thames as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a sideline in spycraft: he is sent to the city to find out more about Delamare's intentions. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and precious botanical extract which seems mysteriously to be the origin of a social and financial disturbance rippling out from the region. The extract is viewed by certain groups as a commercial commodity, by alternate groups as a scientific or mystical phenomenon, and by yet others – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a source of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The dilemma of its source, its significance, and whether it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.
Like the original trilogy, the heroine's actions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be inseparably connected with the fate of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran mostly in side by side. In the conclusion, they converge. Similar to His Dark Materials, the protagonist's choices and her destiny are shown to be deeply linked with the destiny of the world. Her private journey to reunite with her companion and recover her vision becomes the primary struggle in a wider conflict with an controlling government which, as these systems typically do, is attempting to stifle freedom of reason, innovation and art: all the internal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The story opens with the finding of a set of unusual openings in the fabric of the planet's air: gateways that look to open into alternate realities. A particular portal manifests to be the point of the much debated rose oil. The church, with Delamare at its helm, designates these openings as a problem to the religion's doctrine and aims to destroy them. As the heroine begins to shift from rigid rationalism and back to feeling, nevertheless, her conviction that these locations must be defended – that their significance and their value is in some way vital – strengthens. "Dust, or rose oil, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a Blakean tussle between naivety and experience is set.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
