Things are collapsing in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from authorities, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the treasuries of corporations, the control of mobs. "Some force is at work, silently, gradually", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the Silk Roads from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and solid are deteriorating and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Exactly what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that drives the concluding book, which continues where its predecessor concluded. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding venture into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose geography aligns with that of this world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals look and think and act like us, but are accompanied by animal souls, essences in creature form; where the skies are filled with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but below, transports are taken and drinks is drunk, and older scholars carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first met as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still distinctly the sharp and determined protagonist of the prior volumes, but more mature, sadder, warier, more doubtful. This circumscription is intensified by her division from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to go off in search of that youthful part of her which she seems to have lost (an trait which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a picaresque journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and risk on the way. But from the start, profound shifts were in action, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the religious controlling power, and the author's deliciously chilling representation of strict, administrative wickedness – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – our protagonist's family member, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the role of leader of the church's High Council, and is set on using his fresh authority to extend the church's rule. Malcolm Polstead, who saved infant the heroine to refuge along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an academic with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is assigned to Geneva to learn more about the antagonist's intentions. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and valuable rose oil which seems mysteriously to be the source of a societal and economic disturbance rippling out from Central Asia. The oil is seen by some as a tradeable product, by different parties as a scientific or spiritual phenomenon, and by others still – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an insult that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its origins, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's decisions, and her destiny, are revealed to be deeply entwined with the future of the universe
In the previous volume, these plots ran mostly in side by side. In the conclusion, they come together. Similar to the first trilogy, the protagonist's movements and her destiny are revealed to be inseparably woven with the future of the universe. Her private mission to reconnect with her daemon and regain her imagination becomes the key battleground in a wider battle with an authoritarian system which, as such authorities often attempt, is attempting to quell freedom of reason, innovation and culture: all the personal, defiant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles
The novel begins with the unveiling of a set of curious cracks in the structure of the planet's air: gateways that seem to give on to alternate realities. A particular window seems to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The church, with the antagonist at its helm, designates these portals as a problem to the institution's orthodoxy and aims to destroy them. As Lyra begins to turn away from rigid reason and return to intuition, nevertheless, her belief that these sites must be defended – that their significance and what they offer is in some way crucial – grows. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a poetic struggle between innocence and maturity is set.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
