Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the next of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that appears, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is draining from authorities, and pooling in the offices of theocrats, the vaults of conglomerates, the control of crowds. "Some force is at work, silently, gradually", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were secure and solid are weakening and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Precisely what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the question that animates this final volume, which resumes where its predecessor ended. This is, reportedly, Pullman's last foray into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling world he first revealed 30 years ago, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose landscape corresponds 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 external spirits, essences in beast form; where the air are filled with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, buses are caught and tea is drunk, and middle-aged academics carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a child in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the prequel, the introductory book with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the spiky and determined heroine of the earlier books, but aged, more sorrowful, more cautious, less sure. This circumscription is heightened by her split from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to leave in search of that childlike part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque voyage across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with marvel and danger on the way. But from the beginning, underlying forces were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the religious controlling power, and the author's deliciously chilling embodiment of strict, administrative malice – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. The antagonist – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his sibling's death – has positioned himself into the office of leader of the church's governing body, and is determined on using his fresh authority to expand the religion's control. Another protagonist, who saved infant the heroine to security along a swollen river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an university scholar with a sideline in spycraft: he is assigned to a key location to find out more about Delamare's plans. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and costly rose oil which seems somehow to be the cause of a societal and financial disturbance emanating out from Central Asia. The oil is regarded by certain groups as a tradeable good, by different parties as a scientific or mystical phenomenon, and by further factions – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a source of malevolence; an affront that must be destroyed. The dilemma of where it comes from, its significance, and if it should be removed or preserved is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like His Dark Materials, the heroine's decisions, and her future, are demonstrated to be deeply entwined with the future of the universe
In its predecessor, these storylines ran largely in tandem. In this final book, they merge. As in the original series, her movements and her path are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the universe. Her personal quest to reconnect with her daemon and regain her vision becomes the key conflict in a broader conflict with an authoritarian regime which, as these systems often attempt, is seeking to quell freedom of thought, creativity and expression: all the internal, rebellious ways in which humans can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The novel begins with the discovery of a collection of strange fissures in the makeup of the Earth's sky: portals that look to give on to alternate realities. A particular window manifests to be the origin of the much debated mystical extract. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its leadership, designates these windows as a challenge to the church's orthodoxy and aims to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to move from rigid reason and return to instinct, yet, her conviction that these locations must be preserved – that their significance and what they offer is in some way essential – grows. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the imagination, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a philosophical conflict between naivety and experience is set.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
