Tings are unraveling in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the second of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, in this volume especially, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from authorities, and accumulating in the halls of religious leaders, the vaults of business empires, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, very quietly, gradually", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his seat in an city cafe. "Things we thought were stable and solid are deteriorating and failing."
Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey
Just what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that animates the concluding book, which continues where the previous book left off. This is, by all accounts, the author's last foray into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting realm he first unveiled three decades past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose terrain maps on to that of this world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals appear and think and behave like us, but are joined by animal souls, essences in beast form; where the skies are populated with sorceresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, transports are taken and drinks is drunk, and mature scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a child in the original trilogy, and then saw again as a infant in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still clearly the prickly and tenacious main character of the earlier books, but aged, sadder, warier, more doubtful. This circumscription is heightened by her division from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.
Merging Narratives
Pan's decision to depart in quest of that youthful part of Lyra which she seems to have lost (an quality which he represents as her "creativity"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a wandering trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, facing with marvel and peril on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the religious governing authority, and the author's deliciously chilling incarnation of austere, bureaucratic evil – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. The antagonist – the heroine's relative, who blames her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the position of president of the Magisterium's governing body, and is set on using his fresh power to expand the institution's rule. Another protagonist, who saved infant the heroine to safety along a flooded Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a additional duty in espionage: he is assigned to the city to learn more about Delamare's intentions. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and costly essential oil which manifests mysteriously to be the cause of a social and financial disturbance spreading out from that area. The extract is regarded by certain groups as a marketable good, by different parties as a empirical or spiritual wonder, and by others still – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an insult that must be destroyed. The question of where it comes from, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or protected is becoming urgent.
Similar to His Dark Materials, the heroine's decisions, and her future, are shown to be inextricably entwined with the fate of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran broadly in parallel. In the conclusion, they come together. As in the first trilogy, her movements and her destiny are shown to be deeply woven with the future of the universe. Her personal mission to reunite with her companion and rediscover her vision becomes the primary battleground in a larger battle with an oppressive system which, as such regimes often attempt, is seeking to quell freedom of thinking, creativity and culture: all the internal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be independent.
Cosmic Openings and Philosophical Struggles
The story opens with the discovery of a set of strange fissures in the makeup of the world's air: portals that seem to lead to alternate realities. A particular portal appears to be the point of the much debated botanical substance. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its helm, classifies these portals as a problem to the church's doctrine and endeavors to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from strict logic and return to intuition, nevertheless, her belief that these places must be protected – that their meaning and what they offer is mysteriously essential – grows. "Dust, or the substance, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a poetic tussle between naivety and knowledge is established.
Plot Rhythm and Character Development
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
