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Things are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that manifests, in this volume especially, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Organizations are failing, or restructuring themselves along new and troubling lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; concurrently, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from authorities, and gathering in the halls of theocrats, the vaults of business empires, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says trader a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were secure and solid are faltering and collapsing."

Core Enigma and Lyra's Journey

Exactly what that element might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that drives this final volume, which resumes where its predecessor concluded. This is, reportedly, Pullman's final foray into the elaborately built, deeply captivating universe he first introduced 30 years ago, with the launch of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose geography maps on to that of the real world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the humans look and think and behave like us, but are paired by daemons, beings in creature form; where the air are teeming with witches and legendary creatures, but underneath, transports are taken and beverages is sipped, and mature professors carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old 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 clearly the prickly and tenacious heroine of the earlier books, but older, sadder, warier, less sure. This circumscription is intensified by her separation from her animal guide, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.

Interwoven Plots

His choice to leave in quest of that childlike part of her which she seems to have lost (an trait which he epitomises as her "vision"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across the continent and into the mountain region, facing with wonder and danger on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The religious council – the faith's controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of strict, procedural wickedness – is under new leadership, and asserting its power. Marcel Delamare – our protagonist's uncle, who blames her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the role of leader of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is intent on using his fresh power to expand the church's control. Another protagonist, who rescued baby the heroine to refuge along a swollen Thames as an child in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in espionage: he is sent to Geneva to find out more about his aims. And beneath all of this is the puzzle surrounding the scarce and valuable rose oil which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a societal and economic upheaval emanating out from Central Asia. The extract is seen by some as a commercial commodity, by different parties as a scientific or mystical phenomenon, and by yet others – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a source of evil; an insult that must be obliterated. The question of its origins, what it stands for, and if it should be removed or safeguarded is becoming urgent.

Similar to the original trilogy, the heroine's deeds, and her destiny, are revealed to be inextricably linked with the future of the realm

In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran largely in parallel. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's choices and her destiny are unveiled to be deeply linked with the fate of the world. Her personal journey to reunite with her soul and rediscover her vision becomes the central battleground in a larger war with an authoritarian government which, as these systems typically do, is striving to suppress independence of thinking, innovation and culture: all the inner, resistant ways in which people can be liberated.

Atmospheric Fissures and Ideological Conflicts

The book opens with the unveiling of a series of strange cracks in the makeup of the world's air: portals that seem to give on to different dimensions. An example of a window manifests to be the point of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The church, with the antagonist at its head, designates these openings as a problem to the religion's orthodoxy and endeavors to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict rationalism and return to feeling, yet, her certainty that these locations must be defended – that their meaning and what they provide is somehow crucial – grows. "Cosmic particles, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a Blakean conflict between naivety and maturity is set.

Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution

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