Things are falling apart in the last installment of The Book of Dust, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that seems, here more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from authorities, and pooling in the offices of theocrats, the coffers of business empires, the grasp of mobs. "Some force is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were firm and strong are faltering and failing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Exactly what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that drives the concluding book, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth ended. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding excursion into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating realm he first revealed three decades past, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose landscape aligns with that of the real world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, souls in animal form; where the heavens are filled with enchantresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, vehicles are ridden and tea is drunk, and mature professors carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a adult: still clearly the prickly and tenacious main character of the previous installments, but more mature, sadder, more careful, less sure. This circumscription is heightened by her division from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to depart in quest of that youthful part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a adventurous journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with wonder and peril on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in play, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the religious governing authority, and the author's brilliantly sinister incarnation of rigid, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's relative, who blames her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the role of president of the church's governing body, and is intent on using his newfound authority to broaden the religion's rule. Another protagonist, who saved baby the heroine to refuge along a swollen river as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a sideline in spycraft: he is sent to Geneva to discover more about Delamare's intentions. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and costly essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the cause of a social and financial crisis emanating out from Central Asia. The extract is regarded by some as a commercial commodity, by others as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by further factions – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a source of evil; an challenge that must be destroyed. The dilemma of where it comes from, its meaning, and whether it should be removed or safeguarded is escalating in importance.
As in the original trilogy, Lyra's deeds, and her future, are revealed to be inextricably linked with the fate of the universe
In the previous volume, these storylines ran broadly in tandem. In the conclusion, they come together. As in the original series, Lyra's choices and her destiny are unveiled to be deeply entwined with the future of the world. Her private journey to reconnect with her soul and regain her creativity becomes the central struggle in a wider battle with an authoritarian regime which, as such authorities always have, is striving to suppress autonomy of thought, creativity and expression: all the personal, resistant ways in which people can be free.
Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts
The novel opens with the finding of a collection of curious cracks in the structure of the Earth's air: gateways that appear to lead to alternate realities. An example of a portal seems to be the origin of the much debated mystical extract. The Magisterium, with its leader at its leadership, classifies these openings as a challenge to the religion's orthodoxy and aims to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from rigid logic and back to instinct, nevertheless, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that their significance and their value is somehow crucial – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we need it." The setting for a poetic tussle between purity and maturity is set.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
