Tings are collapsing in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or restructuring themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is draining from authorities, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the coffers of corporations, the control of mobs. "Some force is at work, very quietly, gradually", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and durable are weakening and collapsing."
Core Enigma and Her Quest
Just what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that drives this final volume, which continues where its predecessor ended. This is, by all accounts, the author's concluding excursion into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling realm he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose geography corresponds to that of the real world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are accompanied by external spirits, beings in animal form; where the skies are populated with sorceresses and legendary creatures, but below, transports are caught and beverages is sipped, and mature professors carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then met once more as a toddler in the prequel, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a young woman: still recognisably the spiky and persistent protagonist of the prior volumes, but older, sadder, more cautious, more doubtful. This restraint is heightened by her separation from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to leave in pursuit of that innocent part of the heroine which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with amazement and risk on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the faith's ruling body, and the author's deliciously chilling representation of austere, administrative malice – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's family member, who faults her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the office of president of the authority's ruling assembly, and is determined on using his newfound power to broaden the religion's control. Another protagonist, who rescued young the heroine to refuge along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an academic with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is dispatched to the city to find out more about the antagonist's aims. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and precious essential oil which manifests in some way to be the source of a social and financial crisis rippling out from Central Asia. The oil is regarded by certain groups as a tradeable product, by alternate groups as a scientific or esoteric phenomenon, and by further factions – the zealous "highland figures" – as a wellspring of darkness; an challenge that must be obliterated. The issue of its origins, its significance, and whether it should be destroyed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Like the first series, the heroine's decisions, and her fate, are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the future of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran largely in tandem. In this final book, they merge. Similar to the original series, the protagonist's choices and her fate are unveiled to be inextricably woven with the destiny of the realm. Her personal journey to rejoin with her soul and rediscover her imagination becomes the primary conflict in a broader battle with an controlling government which, as such regimes always have, is seeking to stifle independence of thinking, originality and art: all the internal, resistant ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles
The story opens with the unveiling of a series of curious openings in the makeup of the Earth's air: gateways that look to lead to alternate realities. A particular opening seems to be the point of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The church, with the antagonist at its head, labels these openings as a threat to the church's doctrine and sets out to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to move from strict reason and back to feeling, yet, her conviction that these sites must be defended – that their significance and their value is in some way vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a poetic conflict between purity and knowledge is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
