Tings are falling apart in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, in this volume especially, as a charged and tilted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is draining from authorities, and gathering in the halls of religious leaders, the coffers of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "Something is at work, very quietly, gradually", says trader a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and solid are faltering and giving way."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Precisely what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that propels this final volume, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, by all accounts, the author's concluding foray into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting realm he first unveiled in the distant past, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose landscape maps on to that of this world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people appear and reason and act like us, but are paired by daemons, souls in animal form; where the skies are filled with witches and mythical beasts, but below, vehicles are ridden and tea is sipped, and older professors carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in La Belle Sauvage, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still clearly the spiky and determined main character of the previous installments, but more mature, melancholic, warier, less sure. This circumscription is amplified by her separation from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to depart in pursuit of that youthful part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an quality which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a wandering voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of strict, bureaucratic evil – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his recently acquired power to broaden the church's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who saved young the heroine to safety along a swollen river as an child in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to Geneva to find out more about Delamare's plans. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and costly essential oil which manifests in some way to be the cause of a societal and economic disturbance spreading out from that area. The extract is viewed by various factions as a commercial product, by different parties as a empirical or esoteric phenomenon, and by others still – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of malevolence; an insult that must be obliterated. The dilemma of its source, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or preserved is becoming urgent.
Similar to the first series, our protagonist's actions, and her future, are revealed to be inextricably linked with the future of the universe
In its predecessor, these storylines ran mostly in tandem. In this final book, they come together. Similar to the original series, Lyra's actions and her destiny are shown to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the realm. Her private journey to reconnect with her companion and rediscover her imagination becomes the key battleground in a broader battle with an controlling system which, as these systems often attempt, is attempting to quell autonomy of reason, originality and culture: all the personal, resistant ways in which humans can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The novel starts with the discovery of a collection of strange cracks in the makeup of the planet's sky: portals that look to lead to alternate realities. One such opening appears to be the source of the much debated botanical substance. The church, with its leader at its head, designates these openings as a challenge to the institution's doctrine and sets out to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from inflexible rationalism and revert to feeling, nevertheless, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that their meaning and what they provide is in some way essential – grows. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a poetic conflict between innocence and maturity is established.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
