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Things are falling apart in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that manifests, in this volume especially, as a charged and skewed version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or reassembling themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Control is draining from states, and pooling in the offices of theocrats, the coffers of conglomerates, the grasp of mobs. "An element is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and durable are faltering and collapsing."

Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey

Precisely what that something might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that propels this final volume, which picks up where the previous book concluded. This is, reportedly, the author's final excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting realm he first introduced three decades past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a realm whose landscape aligns with that of the real world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and think and behave like us, but are paired by external spirits, beings in creature form; where the skies are filled with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but below, buses are taken and tea is sipped, and mature academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a young woman: still recognisably the spiky and tenacious main character of the previous installments, but older, more sorrowful, warier, more doubtful. This circumscription is amplified by her separation from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.

Merging Narratives

The daemon's resolve to depart in pursuit of that youthful part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an quality which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a picaresque journey across Europe and into the Caucasus, facing with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in action, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's masterfully eerie representation of rigid, bureaucratic wickedness – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's uncle, who blames her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the position of president of the Magisterium's governing body, and is determined on using his newfound power to extend the religion's control. Another protagonist, who rescued young the heroine to refuge along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the first book, is now an academic with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to the city to learn more about the antagonist's plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and valuable rose oil which seems mysteriously to be the cause of a social and financial upheaval rippling out from Central Asia. The extract is regarded by various factions as a commercial product, by others as a research-based or spiritual wonder, and by further factions – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an challenge that must be destroyed. The issue of its origins, its meaning, and if it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.

Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's deeds, and her destiny, are revealed to be inextricably connected with the future of the world

In its predecessor, these plots ran mostly in parallel. In the conclusion, they come together. Like the first trilogy, her movements and her path are revealed to be deeply entwined with the fate of the realm. Her personal quest to reconnect with her daemon and recover her creativity becomes the primary conflict in a wider war with an authoritarian government which, as such authorities always have, is attempting to stifle freedom of reason, creativity and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.

Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts

The book opens with the discovery of a collection of unusual cracks in the fabric of the world's sky: gateways that seem to give on to different dimensions. An example of a opening seems to be the point of the much debated mystical extract. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its helm, designates these portals as a threat to the institution's doctrine and endeavors to destroy them. As the heroine begins to turn away from rigid logic and return to instinct, however, her certainty that these places must be preserved – that their meaning and what they provide is somehow essential – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a philosophical struggle between innocence and experience is set.

Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth

At a substantial length, The Rose Field|this volume|the