Things are falling apart in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the second of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that manifests, here more than ever, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reassembling themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Authority is flowing away from governments, and accumulating in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of conglomerates, the grasp of crowds. "An element is at work, very quietly, very subtly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and durable are faltering and failing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Just what that element might be, and methods to fight it, is the question that animates this final volume, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's last excursion into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting realm he first revealed in the distant past, with the release of Northern Lights. It's a world whose geography corresponds to that of the real world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the people look and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, souls in beast form; where the air are populated with witches and mythical beasts, but below, transports are caught and drinks is consumed, and older academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a 12-year-old in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which Pullman began the series, is now a young woman: still recognisably the sharp and determined heroine of the earlier books, but more mature, sadder, more careful, less certain. This limitation is heightened by her division from her daemon, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to go off in search of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an quality which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled Lyra undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, encountering with wonder and risk on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in action, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the church's controlling power, and the author's deliciously chilling incarnation of strict, administrative wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's family member, who faults her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the authority's governing body, and is set on using his recently acquired power to extend the religion's dominium. Another protagonist, who carried infant Lyra to safety along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in espionage: he is sent to Geneva to learn more about Delamare's plans. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and precious rose oil which appears in some way to be the origin of a societal and financial disturbance emanating out from Central Asia. The extract is seen by various factions as a commercial commodity, by alternate groups as a scientific or spiritual phenomenon, and by yet others – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a origin of darkness; an affront that must be eradicated. The question of its origins, its significance, and if it should be eliminated or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
As in the original trilogy, Lyra's actions, and her destiny, are revealed to be deeply linked with the fate of the universe
In the previous volume, these narratives ran largely in parallel. In the conclusion, they converge. Like His Dark Materials, her movements and her path are revealed to be inextricably linked with the fate of the realm. Her private mission to reconnect with her companion and recover her creativity becomes the key battleground in a wider battle with an oppressive government which, as these systems often attempt, is seeking to suppress autonomy of thought, creativity and expression: all the personal, defiant ways in which individuals can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The story begins with the unveiling of a set of strange fissures in the fabric of the world's sky: portals that appear to lead to other worlds. A particular window seems to be the source of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The authority, with the antagonist at its helm, labels these portals as a threat to the religion's doctrine and sets out to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from strict logic and revert to intuition, however, her belief that these places must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is in some way vital – increases. "Dust, or the extract, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or whatever we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a Blakean tussle between purity and experience is set.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
