Tings are falling apart in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a realm that manifests, now more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is flowing away from governments, and accumulating in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of corporations, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, very quietly, gradually", says businessman a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and solid are weakening and failing."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Exactly what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that drives this final volume, which picks up where the previous book left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's last venture into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating universe he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose terrain maps on to that of this world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and think and behave like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, beings in beast form; where the skies are filled with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but underneath, buses are caught and beverages is drunk, and mature professors carry luxury shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a child in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the prequel with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the sharp and determined heroine of the prior volumes, but older, more sorrowful, more careful, less certain. This circumscription is amplified by her division from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
His choice to depart in quest of that childlike part of her which she seems to have lost (an trait which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the catalysts of its predecessor, which chronicled Lyra undertake a adventurous journey across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with amazement and risk on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in action, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the faith's governing authority, and the author's masterfully eerie incarnation of rigid, bureaucratic evil – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's relative, who faults her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the role of leader of the church's High Council, and is determined on using his fresh influence to extend the church's rule. Another protagonist, who carried young 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 spycraft: he is dispatched to Geneva to find out more about his aims. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and valuable essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a societal and economic crisis spreading out from the region. The extract is viewed by some as a marketable commodity, by others as a scientific or spiritual miracle, and by yet others – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an challenge that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its origins, its meaning, and if it should be eliminated or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Similar to His Dark Materials, the heroine's actions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be deeply connected with the fate of the universe
In its predecessor, these narratives ran mostly in tandem. In this final book, they merge. As in His Dark Materials, her choices and her fate are unveiled to be inseparably linked with the fate of the universe. Her individual journey to reconnect with her daemon and recover her creativity becomes the primary battleground in a wider conflict with an controlling government which, as such regimes always have, is seeking to quell autonomy of thinking, creativity and art: all the internal, defiant ways in which humans can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles
The book opens with the unveiling of a set of unusual cracks in the structure of the world's sky: windows that look to lead to different dimensions. A particular window manifests to be the origin of the much debated mystical extract. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its helm, labels these portals as a problem to the institution's beliefs and aims to destroy them. As the heroine begins to turn away from rigid reason and return to feeling, however, her belief that these places must be protected – that their significance and what they offer is somehow crucial – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or whatever we name it," she says, "we need it." The stage for a Blakean struggle between naivety and knowledge is established.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
