Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a world that seems, here more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from governments, and gathering in the offices of theocrats, the treasuries of business empires, the grasp of crowds. "Something is at work, very quietly, gradually", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and durable are faltering and collapsing."
Key Puzzle and Her Quest
Just what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that drives the concluding book, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's concluding excursion into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating realm he first introduced three decades past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose geography maps on to that of the real world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and reason and act like us, but are accompanied by daemons, souls in creature form; where the heavens are filled with sorceresses and gryphons, but below, vehicles are caught and beverages is sipped, and older professors carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious protagonist of the previous installments, but aged, sadder, more cautious, less certain. This limitation is heightened by her split from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Interwoven Plots
The daemon's resolve to depart in search of that childlike part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "vision"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which saw Lyra undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with wonder and danger on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in action, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the faith's controlling power, and the author's masterfully eerie representation of austere, procedural evil – is under recent guidance, and asserting its power. The antagonist – our protagonist's uncle, who blames her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the position of leader of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is set on using his recently acquired influence to expand the church's rule. Another protagonist, who rescued baby Lyra to security along a swollen Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a secondary role in espionage: he is dispatched to Geneva to learn more about his intentions. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and precious rose oil which appears somehow to be the source of a societal and financial disturbance rippling out from the region. The oil is regarded by various factions as a commercial commodity, by others as a research-based or esoteric wonder, and by others still – the zealous "highland figures" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an insult that must be eradicated. The issue of its source, its meaning, and if it should be removed or safeguarded is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like the original trilogy, our protagonist's actions, and her destiny, are shown to be inextricably connected with the future of the realm
In the previous volume, these plots ran broadly in parallel. In the conclusion, they merge. Like the original series, her actions and her path are shown to be deeply entwined with the future of the world. Her personal quest to reunite with her companion and rediscover her imagination becomes the primary battleground in a larger conflict with an authoritarian government which, as such authorities typically do, is seeking to quell autonomy of reason, creativity and culture: all the internal, rebellious ways in which humans can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts
The book begins with the discovery of a collection of curious fissures in the makeup of the Earth's air: gateways that seem to lead to alternate realities. An example of a window appears to be the source of the much debated mystical extract. The authority, with the antagonist at its head, designates these portals as a challenge to the institution's doctrine and endeavors to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from strict logic and return to instinct, however, her certainty that these locations must be preserved – that what they stand for and what they offer is mysteriously vital – increases. "Dust, or the substance, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a Blakean tussle between naivety and experience is set.
Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth
At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the