Things are falling apart in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that appears, now more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is draining from governments, and gathering in the offices of theocrats, the treasuries of corporations, the control of crowds. "Something is at work, very quietly, gradually", says merchant a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and solid are deteriorating and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that drives this final volume, which continues where its predecessor concluded. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final venture into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling universe he first introduced three decades past, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a world whose geography maps on to that of the real world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and act like us, but are joined by daemons, souls in animal form; where the skies are filled with enchantresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, buses are caught and tea is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the first volume, the origin story with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still clearly the spiky and determined protagonist of the previous installments, but older, more sorrowful, warier, less sure. This circumscription is intensified by her split from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
His choice to depart in quest of that childlike part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he represents as her "creativity"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with amazement and danger on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in motion, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the faith's controlling power, and the author's deliciously chilling embodiment of austere, administrative malice – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. The antagonist – the heroine's relative, who faults her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the role of head of the authority's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his recently acquired authority to expand the church's dominium. Another protagonist, who saved infant the heroine to refuge along a overflowing river as an child in the first book, is now an academic with a secondary role in espionage: he is sent to a key location to find out more about Delamare's intentions. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and precious essential oil which appears in some way to be the source of a societal and financial upheaval emanating out from that area. The extract is seen by certain groups as a tradeable product, by others as a scientific or spiritual phenomenon, and by further factions – the extremist "highland figures" – as a source of darkness; an insult that must be obliterated. The dilemma of where it comes from, what it stands for, and whether it should be destroyed or protected is escalating in importance.
As in His Dark Materials, the heroine's decisions, and her destiny, are demonstrated to be deeply entwined with the future of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran mostly in parallel. In this final book, they converge. As in the original series, Lyra's movements and her fate are shown to be inseparably woven with the destiny of the realm. Her individual journey to reconnect with her companion and recover her creativity becomes the central battleground in a wider war with an oppressive regime which, as these systems always have, is attempting to stifle autonomy of thinking, innovation and culture: all the inner, rebellious ways in which humans can be free.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The novel opens with the discovery of a series of curious cracks in the makeup of the planet's atmosphere: portals that appear to lead to alternate realities. A particular portal manifests to be the origin of the much debated rose oil. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its leadership, designates these openings as a threat to the church's doctrine and endeavors to destroy them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict rationalism and return to instinct, yet, her belief that these places must be preserved – that their significance and what they provide is in some way essential – grows. "Dust, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or whatever we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a poetic struggle between naivety and experience is established.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
