Things are falling apart in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or restructuring themselves along new and troubling lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from states, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of corporations, the control of rioters. "Something is at work, very quietly, gradually", says merchant Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and durable are faltering and failing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Just what that force might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that propels the concluding book, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, reportedly, the author's concluding venture into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting realm he first introduced 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a domain 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 heavens are teeming with witches and legendary creatures, but below, buses are caught and beverages is consumed, and middle-aged professors carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still recognisably the spiky and tenacious protagonist of the earlier books, but aged, sadder, warier, more doubtful. This limitation is heightened by her division from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which caused him to abandon her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
Pan's decision to depart in pursuit of that youthful part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which followed Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with amazement and peril on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in play, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the faith's controlling power, and Pullman's masterfully eerie embodiment of rigid, bureaucratic malice – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – the heroine's relative, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the position of head of the authority's High Council, and is intent on using his fresh influence to expand the institution's control. Malcolm Polstead, who rescued infant the heroine to refuge along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a sideline in intelligence work: he is sent to the city to discover more about Delamare's aims. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and costly essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the cause of a societal and financial crisis spreading out from the region. The oil is regarded by some as a tradeable good, by alternate groups as a empirical or spiritual miracle, and by further factions – the zealous "highland figures" – as a wellspring of darkness; an challenge that must be eradicated. The dilemma of where it comes from, its meaning, and if it should be removed or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.
Like the first series, Lyra's deeds, and her fate, are revealed to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the world
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran largely in parallel. In the conclusion, they merge. As in His Dark Materials, her actions and her path are unveiled to be inextricably entwined with the destiny of the world. Her private quest to reconnect with her soul and rediscover her imagination becomes the key struggle in a broader battle with an controlling regime which, as these systems typically do, is striving to quell independence of thinking, innovation and expression: all the personal, resistant ways in which humans can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The book opens with the discovery of a collection of unusual cracks in the structure of the planet's air: gateways that seem to give on to other worlds. An example of a window appears to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The authority, with Delamare at its head, labels these portals as a threat to the institution's beliefs and sets out to eradicate them. As Lyra begins to turn away from inflexible rationalism and back to feeling, yet, her conviction that these places must be defended – that their significance and what they offer is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the imagination, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a poetic struggle between innocence and experience is set.
Narrative Pacing and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
