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Things are falling apart in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a realm that seems, now more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Institutions are crumbling, or reorganizing themselves along new and troubling lines. An hidden force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from authorities, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the treasuries of corporations, the control of rioters. "Some force is at work, very quietly, gradually", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his seat in an city cafe. "Elements we thought were firm and durable are deteriorating and collapsing."

The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey

Exactly what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the question that propels The Rose Field, which resumes where the previous book left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final excursion into the intricately constructed, endlessly enchanting realm he first revealed 30 years ago, with the publication of Northern Lights. It's a domain whose landscape corresponds to that of the real world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans look and think and act like us, but are paired by external spirits, beings in creature form; where the air are teeming with witches and legendary creatures, but beneath those skies, buses are caught and drinks is drunk, and older scholars carry Harrods shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began the series, is now a young woman: still recognisably the spiky and determined protagonist of the earlier books, but more mature, sadder, more careful, less sure. This circumscription is intensified by her division from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the cause which led him to leave her in the first place.

Merging Narratives

His choice to depart in quest of that youthful part of her which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw the protagonist undertake a adventurous voyage across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with marvel and risk on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in motion, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the religious controlling power, and Pullman's masterfully eerie representation of strict, procedural wickedness – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – the heroine's family member, who holds responsible her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the position of head of the church's High Council, and is determined on using his recently acquired influence to extend the religion's control. Malcolm Polstead, who saved baby the heroine to safety along a swollen Thames as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an academic with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is sent to the city to find out more about his aims. And underlying all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and valuable rose oil which seems in some way to be the cause of a societal and economic crisis spreading out from that area. The substance is seen by certain groups as a tradeable good, by alternate groups as a scientific or esoteric miracle, and by others still – the extremist "highland figures" – as a origin of malevolence; an insult that must be eradicated. The issue of its origins, its significance, and if it should be destroyed or preserved is escalating in importance.

As in the original trilogy, our protagonist's decisions, and her destiny, are shown to be inseparably entwined with the future of the realm

In its predecessor, these narratives ran largely in side by side. In the conclusion, they converge. Similar to the first trilogy, her choices and her path are unveiled to be inseparably woven with the destiny of the world. Her individual mission to reconnect with her soul and regain her vision becomes the key conflict in a broader war with an controlling regime which, as such regimes typically do, is seeking to stifle freedom of thought, creativity and art: all the personal, rebellious ways in which humans can be independent.

Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts

The novel starts with the discovery of a series of unusual openings in the makeup of the planet's sky: portals that appear to open into different dimensions. A particular opening appears to be the point of the highly contested botanical substance. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its head, labels these portals as a problem to the church's orthodoxy and sets out to eliminate them. As the heroine begins to move from strict logic and revert to feeling, yet, her belief that these locations must be protected – that their meaning and their value is in some way essential – increases. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a poetic tussle between innocence and experience is prepared.

Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth

At 640 pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the