Things are unraveling in the last installment of The Dust Trilogy, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that manifests, now more than ever, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along novel and troubling lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from authorities, and gathering in the offices of theocrats, the vaults of conglomerates, the grasp of mobs. "Some force is at work, stealthily, imperceptibly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and durable are deteriorating and collapsing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Just what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that propels the concluding book, which resumes where the previous book concluded. This is, by all accounts, the author's final excursion into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting world he first revealed in the distant past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a domain whose terrain corresponds to that of this world, but whose past veers and changes with ours; where the individuals appear and think and behave like us, but are paired by daemons, souls in animal form; where the heavens are teeming with witches and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, transports are taken and drinks is drunk, and older scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a child in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the prequel, the origin story with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still distinctly the prickly and determined protagonist of the earlier books, but aged, sadder, more careful, less sure. This restraint is intensified by her division from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which led him to leave her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
His choice to leave in search of that innocent part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an quality which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with amazement and peril on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in action, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the religious ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of austere, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. The antagonist – our protagonist's family member, who faults her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the role of leader of the authority's ruling assembly, and is set on using his recently acquired power to broaden the institution's dominium. Malcolm Polstead, who carried young the heroine to safety along a swollen Thames as an child in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in intelligence work: he is dispatched to Geneva to learn more about Delamare's intentions. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and valuable essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a societal and economic disturbance emanating out from the region. The extract is regarded by various factions as a commercial commodity, by different parties as a research-based or spiritual wonder, and by further factions – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a source of darkness; an challenge that must be obliterated. The question of its source, its significance, and if it should be eliminated or protected is becoming urgent.
Like the first series, Lyra's actions, and her future, are demonstrated to be inextricably linked with the future of the world
In its predecessor, these plots ran mostly in parallel. In the conclusion, they converge. Like the original series, the protagonist's movements and her fate are unveiled to be inseparably linked with the destiny of the world. Her private journey to reconnect with her daemon and rediscover her vision becomes the key struggle in a wider war with an oppressive government which, as such authorities typically do, is striving to quell freedom of thinking, creativity and art: all the personal, defiant ways in which people can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The story opens with the unveiling of a collection of strange cracks in the makeup of the world's air: gateways that seem to lead to alternate realities. One such window appears to be the origin of the fiercely disputed mystical extract. The church, with Delamare at its leadership, labels these openings as a challenge to the church's doctrine and aims to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from strict logic and return to feeling, nevertheless, her belief that these sites must be preserved – that what they stand for and their value is in some way crucial – strengthens. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a philosophical struggle between innocence and experience is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution
At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the
