Things are collapsing in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the next of the author's masterful trilogies set in a world that manifests, now more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disturbing lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is draining from governments, and pooling in the offices of religious leaders, the coffers of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "Something is at work, silently, gradually", says businessman a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and solid are weakening and giving way."
Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey
Precisely what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the mystery that propels the concluding book, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's last venture into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating world he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose geography maps on to that of this world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are joined by external spirits, souls in animal form; where the heavens are populated with enchantresses and gryphons, but below, buses are taken and drinks is consumed, and mature scholars carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a child in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in the prequel, the origin story with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the sharp and tenacious protagonist of the earlier books, but more mature, more sorrowful, more cautious, less sure. This limitation is intensified by her split from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to go off in search of that youthful part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an trait which he represents as her "vision"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of The Secret Commonwealth, which chronicled Lyra undertake a picaresque voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and danger on the way. But from the beginning, profound shifts were in play, and darker forces at work. The church authority – the faith's ruling body, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of austere, bureaucratic wickedness – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's uncle, who faults her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the office of head of the authority's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his newfound authority to extend the religion's rule. Another protagonist, who rescued infant Lyra to security along a overflowing Thames as an child in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in intelligence work: he is dispatched to a key location to find out more about his aims. And beneath all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and precious essential oil which manifests mysteriously to be the cause of a societal and financial crisis rippling out from that area. The substance is viewed by various factions as a tradeable commodity, by others as a scientific or esoteric wonder, and by yet others – the extremist "highland figures" – as a source of malevolence; an challenge that must be eradicated. The issue of where it comes from, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.
Like the first series, our protagonist's decisions, and her fate, are shown to be inextricably connected with the destiny of the universe
In its predecessor, these plots ran largely in parallel. In the conclusion, they converge. Similar to the original series, the protagonist's movements and her path are shown to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the universe. Her private quest to reconnect with her soul and rediscover her creativity becomes the primary struggle in a larger war with an controlling government which, as these systems always have, is seeking to suppress independence of reason, creativity and art: all the personal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be liberated.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The book begins with the unveiling of a set of curious fissures in the fabric of the planet's atmosphere: windows that seem to open into other worlds. An example of a opening appears to be the source of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its leadership, classifies these windows as a threat to the institution's doctrine and endeavors to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to turn away from inflexible reason and back to feeling, however, her belief that these places must be preserved – that their significance and what they provide is somehow essential – strengthens. "The substance, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or whatever we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a Blakean struggle between purity and maturity is set.
Story Tempo and Personal Evolution
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the