Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the next of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a world that manifests, in this volume especially, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along novel and troubling lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is draining from authorities, and gathering in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of corporations, the hands of crowds. "Some force is at work, stealthily, gradually", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his place in an city cafe. "Things we thought were secure and solid are weakening and giving way."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Just what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that propels this final volume, which continues where the previous book left off. This is, according to many, the author's last excursion into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating realm he first unveiled in the distant past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose landscape aligns with that of the real world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, souls in beast form; where the skies are teeming with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, vehicles are taken and drinks is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the origin story with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious heroine of the previous installments, but aged, more sorrowful, more cautious, less sure. This restraint is amplified by her split from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
Pan's decision to depart in search of that innocent part of her which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which saw the protagonist undertake a wandering journey across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with amazement and peril on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister incarnation of austere, procedural evil – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's uncle, who faults her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of leader of the Magisterium's High Council, and is intent on using his recently acquired authority to extend the church's rule. A key character, who saved young Lyra to refuge along a overflowing Thames as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in espionage: he is sent to a key location to learn more about Delamare's plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and valuable rose oil which manifests in some way to be the origin of a social and financial crisis rippling out from Central Asia. The extract is regarded by various factions as a commercial commodity, by others as a empirical or spiritual wonder, and by further factions – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of darkness; an challenge that must be destroyed. The dilemma of where it comes from, what it stands for, and whether it should be destroyed or preserved is becoming urgent.
As in the original trilogy, the heroine's deeds, and her future, are revealed to be inextricably linked with the future of the universe
In the previous volume, these narratives ran mostly in tandem. In the conclusion, they converge. As in His Dark Materials, Lyra's movements and her fate are unveiled to be deeply linked with the fate of the universe. Her individual journey to rejoin with her daemon and rediscover her creativity becomes the central struggle in a broader battle with an authoritarian government which, as these systems always have, is attempting to quell independence of reason, innovation and expression: all the personal, rebellious ways in which humans can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The story starts with the unveiling of a series of unusual fissures in the fabric of the planet's sky: portals that appear to open into different dimensions. A particular portal manifests to be the origin of the highly contested botanical substance. The authority, with Delamare at its leadership, labels these windows as a threat to the church's doctrine and aims to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from strict logic and back to instinct, nevertheless, her belief that these locations must be defended – that their meaning and their value is in some way essential – grows. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a Blakean conflict between purity and experience is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
