Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that appears, in this volume especially, as a intense and skewed version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, 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". Control is shifting from governments, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the treasuries of business empires, the control of rioters. "Something is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says merchant a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the trade routes from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and strong are faltering and giving way."
The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path
Exactly what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that animates this final volume, which picks up where the previous book concluded. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's last foray into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating universe he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose terrain corresponds to that of this world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the people appear and reason and behave like us, but are joined by daemons, souls in animal form; where the skies are populated with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but below, transports are caught and drinks is consumed, and older scholars carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a child in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the prequel, the introductory book with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious heroine of the earlier books, but older, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This circumscription is amplified by her division from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
The daemon's resolve to leave in quest of that youthful part of her which she may have forgotten (an quality which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the incitements of its predecessor, which saw the protagonist undertake a wandering trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, facing with wonder and peril on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in play, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the religious governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of austere, procedural malice – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. The antagonist – the heroine's uncle, who blames her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the role of head of the authority's High Council, and is intent on using his fresh authority to extend the church's dominium. A key character, who carried baby the heroine to security along a flooded river as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in spycraft: he is sent to a key location to find out more about Delamare's aims. And beneath all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and valuable essential oil which seems in some way to be the source of a societal and economic upheaval spreading out from that area. The extract is viewed by various factions as a tradeable commodity, by different parties as a scientific or spiritual wonder, and by yet others – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a source of evil; an insult that must be eradicated. The dilemma of where it comes from, its significance, and if it should be removed or protected is escalating in importance.
Similar to the original trilogy, Lyra's deeds, and her destiny, are revealed to be deeply linked with the destiny of the realm
In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran broadly in side by side. In the conclusion, they merge. Like the first trilogy, Lyra's movements and her path are revealed to be deeply linked with the destiny of the realm. Her private mission to rejoin with her daemon and recover her creativity becomes the primary struggle in a broader battle with an controlling government which, as such regimes often attempt, is attempting to quell freedom of thinking, creativity and expression: all the inner, resistant ways in which people can be liberated.
Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts
The novel starts with the discovery of a series of strange fissures in the structure of the Earth's atmosphere: windows that look to open into alternate realities. A particular opening seems to be the source of the fiercely disputed botanical substance. The authority, with Delamare at its helm, labels these windows as a problem to the religion's doctrine and aims to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to move from strict logic and return to intuition, however, her belief that these sites must be defended – that what they stand for and their value is in some way crucial – strengthens. "The substance, or rose oil, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The setting for a philosophical conflict between innocence and knowledge is prepared.
Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
