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Things are unraveling in the last installment of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's masterful trilogies set in a universe that seems, in this volume especially, as a energized and skewed version of our own. Establishments are weakening, or reorganizing themselves along new and troubling lines. An hidden force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Authority is shifting from governments, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of corporations, the grasp of mobs. "Something is at work, silently, gradually", says trader a trader character, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Things we thought were stable and solid are deteriorating and failing."

Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey

Exactly what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that propels the concluding book, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, the author's final foray into the elaborately built, deeply captivating world he first unveiled in the distant past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a world whose landscape maps on to that of the real world, but whose chronicles diverges and shifts with ours; where the individuals appear and think and behave like us, but are paired by animal souls, souls in animal form; where the heavens are populated with enchantresses and gryphons, but underneath, buses are taken and beverages is drunk, and middle-aged professors carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the first volume, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious heroine of the previous installments, but aged, melancholic, warier, less sure. This restraint is intensified by her separation from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.

Merging Narratives

His choice to leave in search of that youthful part of her which she appears to have shed (an quality which he epitomises as her "creativity"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the driving forces of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and peril on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the faith's ruling body, and the author's masterfully eerie representation of rigid, bureaucratic malice – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's relative, who blames her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of head of the Magisterium's ruling assembly, and is set on using his recently acquired power to extend the institution's rule. A key character, who saved young Lyra to refuge along a overflowing river as an child in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is sent to a key location to learn more about his plans. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and precious botanical extract which manifests somehow to be the source of a social and economic disturbance rippling out from that area. The substance is viewed by certain groups as a marketable product, by others as a empirical or spiritual phenomenon, and by others still – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a origin of evil; an insult that must be destroyed. The question of its source, its meaning, and whether it should be eliminated or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.

Similar to the original trilogy, our protagonist's decisions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be deeply connected with the destiny of the universe

In the previous volume, these storylines ran largely in tandem. In the conclusion, they converge. As in the first trilogy, the protagonist's actions and her fate are shown to be inextricably woven with the fate of the world. Her personal mission to rejoin with her soul and regain her imagination becomes the central battleground in a larger war with an authoritarian government which, as such authorities often attempt, is attempting to quell independence of reason, originality and art: all the inner, defiant ways in which people can be liberated.

Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles

The novel begins with the discovery of a set of curious cracks in the makeup of the Earth's atmosphere: gateways that appear to open into different dimensions. An example of a portal manifests to be the origin of the highly contested botanical substance. The church, with Delamare at its helm, labels these openings as a problem to the institution's orthodoxy and endeavors to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from strict logic and back to feeling, however, her belief that these locations must be preserved – that their meaning and what they provide is somehow vital – increases. "Dust, or the extract, or the creativity, or the botanical realm, or no matter what we name it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a philosophical struggle between naivety and experience is prepared.

Plot Rhythm and Personal Evolution

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