Things are falling apart in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that appears, here more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or reassembling themselves along new and troubling lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from authorities, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the control of rioters. "Something is at work, silently, very subtly", says merchant a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were firm and solid are faltering and failing."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that animates this final volume, which resumes where its predecessor concluded. This is, according to many, Pullman's concluding excursion into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating universe he first revealed 30 years ago, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose landscape maps on to that of the real world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans look and reason and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, beings in beast form; where the air are populated with witches and mythical beasts, but underneath, transports are ridden and drinks is sipped, and mature scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in La Belle Sauvage, the origin story with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still clearly the sharp and determined main character of the prior volumes, but more mature, sadder, warier, more doubtful. This circumscription is amplified by her split from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to depart in pursuit of that innocent part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an quality which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed the protagonist undertake a wandering trek across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and peril on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's brilliantly sinister incarnation of austere, procedural evil – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. The antagonist – the heroine's family member, who faults her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of head of the church's governing body, and is set on using his recently acquired influence to extend the religion's rule. A key character, who rescued infant the heroine to safety along a swollen river as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a additional duty in spycraft: he is dispatched to the city to find out more about his intentions. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and costly essential oil which seems somehow to be the source of a societal and financial upheaval emanating out from Central Asia. The oil is regarded by some as a commercial good, by alternate groups as a research-based or mystical wonder, and by yet others – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of malevolence; an challenge that must be eradicated. The question of its source, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Similar to the original trilogy, the heroine's deeds, and her fate, are demonstrated to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the universe
In its predecessor, these storylines ran mostly in tandem. In the conclusion, they merge. As in the original series, her choices and her destiny are unveiled to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the realm. Her private journey to reunite with her companion and rediscover her imagination becomes the key conflict in a wider war with an authoritarian government which, as these systems often attempt, is striving to quell autonomy of thinking, originality and culture: all the internal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The novel opens with the discovery of a set of unusual cracks in the structure of the planet's sky: windows that appear to give on to other worlds. A particular opening appears to be the source of the much debated botanical substance. The Magisterium, with its leader at its head, designates these openings as a challenge to the religion's doctrine and sets out to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from strict logic and return to feeling, yet, her belief that these locations must be preserved – that what they stand for and their value is in some way crucial – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we name it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a poetic tussle between innocence and maturity is set.
Story Tempo and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
