Tings are unraveling in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that manifests, now more than ever, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reassembling themselves along new and troubling lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from authorities, and accumulating in the halls of theocrats, the vaults of conglomerates, the grasp of crowds. "An element is at work, silently, very subtly", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and solid are faltering and failing."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Exactly what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that propels this final volume, which picks up where the previous book left off. This is, reportedly, the author's final venture into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling universe he first unveiled three decades past, with the launch of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose landscape aligns with that of our world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are paired by daemons, souls in creature form; where the heavens are teeming with witches and legendary creatures, but underneath, buses are ridden and tea is sipped, and older professors carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a child in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in the first volume, the prequel with which Pullman began the series, is now a adult: still recognisably the prickly and persistent protagonist of the previous installments, but more mature, melancholic, more careful, less certain. This restraint is amplified by her split from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to go off in pursuit of that childlike part of her which she appears to have shed (an trait which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which followed Lyra undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with amazement and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in play, and darker forces at work. The religious council – the church's ruling body, and the author's deliciously chilling representation of strict, bureaucratic wickedness – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. The antagonist – our protagonist's uncle, who holds responsible her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of head of the Magisterium's governing body, and is set on using his recently acquired authority to extend the religion's control. Another protagonist, who saved infant Lyra to refuge along a overflowing river as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in spycraft: he is dispatched to Geneva to learn more about Delamare's intentions. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and valuable essential oil which appears somehow to be the origin of a social and economic crisis rippling out from that area. The substance is viewed by various factions as a commercial commodity, by alternate groups as a scientific or mystical phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of malevolence; an challenge that must be destroyed. The issue of its origins, what it stands for, and if it should be eliminated or preserved is escalating in importance.
Similar to His Dark Materials, our protagonist's decisions, and her destiny, are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the future of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran largely in tandem. In this final book, they come together. As in His Dark Materials, Lyra's movements and her destiny are unveiled to be deeply entwined with the future of the universe. Her individual mission to reconnect with her soul and recover her vision becomes the central struggle in a wider battle with an authoritarian regime which, as such authorities always have, is seeking to quell freedom of reason, creativity and expression: all the personal, rebellious ways in which people can be free.
Dimensional Rifts and Moral Battles
The story starts with the unveiling of a collection of strange fissures in the makeup of the planet's air: portals that seem to lead to different dimensions. An example of a opening appears to be the point of the highly contested botanical substance. The church, with Delamare at its leadership, designates these openings as a problem to the religion's doctrine and sets out to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to shift from strict reason and back to instinct, however, her certainty that these locations must be defended – that their meaning and what they offer is mysteriously crucial – grows. "The substance, or the substance, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we label it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a poetic conflict between innocence and experience is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
