Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from states, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of corporations, the control of crowds. "Some force is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says merchant a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his seat in an city cafe. "Things we thought were secure and strong are faltering and giving way."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Just what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that drives this final volume, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, by all accounts, the author's concluding foray into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting world he first unveiled three decades past, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose terrain corresponds to that of the real world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and think and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, essences in beast form; where the heavens are filled with enchantresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, buses are taken and beverages is drunk, and mature professors carry fancy shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a child in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the first volume, the introductory book with which Pullman began the series, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the prickly and determined protagonist of the earlier books, but aged, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This limitation is intensified by her split from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to go off in quest of that innocent part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "creativity"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with marvel and risk on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in motion, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the religious controlling power, and the author's deliciously chilling representation of rigid, administrative malice – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the role of head of the Magisterium's governing body, and is determined on using his newfound power to extend the church's rule. Another protagonist, who saved infant the heroine to security along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is dispatched to Geneva to learn more about his plans. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and valuable essential oil which seems in some way to be the origin of a societal and economic disturbance rippling out from the region. The extract is seen by some as a commercial product, by different parties as a scientific or esoteric phenomenon, and by others still – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a wellspring of evil; an insult that must be destroyed. The question of its origins, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to the first series, Lyra's decisions, and her destiny, are revealed to be deeply linked with the fate of the universe
In the previous volume, these storylines ran broadly in parallel. In this final book, they converge. Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's choices and her path are shown to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the realm. Her individual mission to rejoin with her soul and rediscover her vision becomes the key conflict in a larger war with an authoritarian government which, as such regimes typically do, is striving to suppress independence of thought, creativity and expression: all the internal, rebellious ways in which people can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The novel begins with the discovery of a set of unusual cracks in the makeup of the planet's sky: windows that appear to lead to alternate realities. One such portal appears to be the source of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The authority, with Delamare at its head, designates these openings as a challenge to the religion's doctrine and aims to eliminate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from strict logic and return to instinct, however, her belief that these sites must be defended – that their meaning and what they offer is in some way essential – grows. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or whatever we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a Blakean struggle between purity and maturity is set.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
