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Things are collapsing in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the next of the author's grand trilogies set in a universe that seems, in this volume especially, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or restructuring themselves along new and troubling lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from governments, and pooling in the halls of theocrats, the treasuries of conglomerates, the grasp of rioters. "Some force is at work, silently, very subtly", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a vigilant eye on the ancient paths from his place in an Aleppo cafe. "Things we thought were firm and durable are weakening and giving way."

Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path

Exactly what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that drives The Rose Field, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's concluding venture into the elaborately built, infinitely beguiling world he first revealed in the distant past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a world whose landscape corresponds to that of this world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the individuals look and reason and act like us, but are paired by daemons, beings in animal form; where the skies are filled with sorceresses and gryphons, but underneath, buses are taken and beverages is drunk, and middle-aged scholars carry luxury shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began The Book of Dust, is now a adult: still distinctly the sharp and tenacious protagonist of the previous installments, but aged, melancholic, more careful, less certain. This circumscription is amplified by her split from her soul companion, her daemon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.

Converging Storylines

The daemon's resolve to leave in quest of that youthful part of her which she appears to have shed (an quality which he represents as her "vision"), and her mission to reunite with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which saw the protagonist undertake a wandering voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, encountering with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, profound shifts were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the faith's governing authority, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of strict, administrative malice – is under new leadership, and showing its strength. The antagonist – the heroine's uncle, who faults her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the role of head of the church's governing body, and is intent on using his fresh power to expand the religion's rule. A key character, who carried baby the heroine to refuge along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in spycraft: he is dispatched to the city to discover more about Delamare's plans. And behind all of this is the mystery surrounding the rare and valuable essential oil which appears in some way to be the cause of a social and economic upheaval emanating out from Central Asia. The substance is seen by certain groups as a tradeable product, by different parties as a scientific or spiritual phenomenon, and by further factions – the zealous "highland figures" – as a origin of darkness; an insult that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its source, its significance, and if it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.

Like His Dark Materials, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are demonstrated to be inseparably connected with the fate of the universe

In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran mostly in tandem. In the conclusion, they converge. As in the original series, her movements and her destiny are revealed to be inseparably linked with the future of the universe. Her individual quest to reconnect with her companion and rediscover her creativity becomes the central conflict in a broader war with an authoritarian system which, as such regimes often attempt, is seeking to quell autonomy of thinking, innovation and expression: all the inner, defiant ways in which individuals can be independent.

Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles

The novel begins with the unveiling of a series of curious openings in the fabric of the world's air: portals that look to lead to different dimensions. A particular window seems to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The church, with Delamare at its helm, labels these windows as a threat to the institution's doctrine and endeavors to eradicate them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from inflexible reason and return to feeling, however, her belief that these places must be defended – that their significance and what they offer is somehow vital – strengthens. "The substance, or the substance, or the vision, or the field of roses, or no matter what we call it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a poetic struggle between innocence and experience is established.

Story Tempo and Protagonist Growth

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