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Tings are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, in this volume especially, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or reassembling themselves along new and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from governments, and gathering in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the control of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Aspects we thought were secure and solid are weakening and failing."

Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey

Precisely what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that propels The Rose Field, which picks up where the previous book ended. This is, according to many, Pullman's last foray into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating world he first unveiled in the distant past, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a world whose terrain corresponds to that of our world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and behave like us, but are paired by daemons, beings in beast form; where the heavens are teeming with enchantresses and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, transports are ridden and drinks is sipped, and mature academics carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first met as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the first volume, the introductory book with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still recognisably the sharp and persistent main character of the earlier books, but older, sadder, more careful, less certain. This limitation is amplified by her division from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, paradoxically, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.

Interwoven Plots

His choice to leave in quest of that youthful part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he represents as her "creativity"), and her journey to rejoin with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, encountering with wonder and danger on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious ruling body, and the author's masterfully eerie embodiment of austere, procedural wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – Lyra's uncle, who faults her for his sister's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of head of the authority's High Council, and is set on using his newfound influence to extend the religion's rule. Another protagonist, who saved young the heroine to safety along a overflowing Thames as an young boy in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a additional duty in espionage: he is dispatched to the city to find out more about the antagonist's intentions. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and precious rose oil which seems mysteriously to be the origin of a social and economic crisis rippling out from that area. The oil is regarded by some as a marketable commodity, by alternate groups as a research-based or esoteric phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a origin of evil; an affront that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its source, its meaning, and whether it should be destroyed or protected is escalating in importance.

Like the original trilogy, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are shown to be deeply entwined with the future of the realm

In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran largely in tandem. In the conclusion, they converge. Similar to His Dark Materials, her choices and her fate are unveiled to be deeply woven with the future of the realm. Her individual journey to reunite with her companion and rediscover her vision becomes the key struggle in a larger battle with an controlling government which, as these systems always have, is attempting to quell freedom of reason, creativity and expression: all the internal, rebellious ways in which humans can be free.

Dimensional Rifts and Ideological Conflicts

The book opens with the finding of a series of strange fissures in the structure of the world's air: windows that look to give on to different dimensions. A particular window appears to be the point of the highly contested mystical extract. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its helm, designates these portals as a problem to the institution's beliefs and aims to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from rigid logic and back to intuition, nevertheless, her certainty that these places must be defended – that their meaning and what they offer is in some way crucial – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a poetic tussle between purity and maturity is prepared.

Plot Rhythm and Character Development

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