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Things are falling apart in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a world that appears, in this volume especially, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or restructuring themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is draining from governments, and gathering in the offices of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the hands of rioters. "Some force is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his seat in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and durable are faltering and giving way."

Key Puzzle and The Protagonist's Path

Precisely what that element might be, and ways to oppose it, is the inquiry that drives this final volume, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, reportedly, Pullman's last excursion into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling realm he first introduced 30 years ago, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a domain whose terrain maps on to that of our world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the people look and think and act like us, but are paired by external spirits, essences in creature form; where the heavens are filled with witches and mythical beasts, but beneath those skies, vehicles are caught and beverages is consumed, and older professors carry Harrods shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then saw again as a baby in La Belle Sauvage, the prequel with which the author began the series, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the spiky and determined heroine of the prior volumes, but older, more sorrowful, more careful, more doubtful. This restraint is heightened by her split from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, paradoxically, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.

Interwoven Plots

The daemon's resolve 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 reunite with him, were the driving forces of its predecessor, which chronicled Lyra undertake a picaresque journey across Europe and into the mountain region, facing with marvel and peril on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in action, and sinister powers at work. The Magisterium – the religious ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of rigid, administrative evil – is under fresh command, and showing its strength. Marcel Delamare – Lyra's family member, who blames her for his sibling's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of leader of the church's High Council, and is set on using his fresh power to broaden the institution's control. Another protagonist, who rescued infant the heroine to safety along a swollen Thames as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a additional duty in espionage: he is sent to a key location to learn more about Delamare's plans. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and valuable essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the cause of a societal and financial crisis rippling out from that area. The extract is regarded by various factions as a tradeable good, by others as a scientific or mystical miracle, and by further factions – the extremist "highland figures" – as a wellspring of malevolence; an insult that must be obliterated. The issue of where it comes from, what it stands for, and if it should be removed or preserved is becoming urgent.

Similar to His Dark Materials, Lyra's decisions, and her fate, are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the universe

In The Secret Commonwealth, these storylines ran broadly in tandem. In the conclusion, they merge. Similar to the first trilogy, Lyra's movements and her destiny are revealed to be inextricably linked with the fate of the world. Her individual mission to reunite with her soul and rediscover her imagination becomes the central struggle in a broader war with an authoritarian regime which, as such authorities often attempt, is seeking to quell independence of thought, originality and culture: all the internal, defiant ways in which individuals can be independent.

Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles

The novel opens with the unveiling of a series of unusual openings in the makeup of the planet's atmosphere: portals that look to lead to alternate realities. An example of a window manifests to be the source of the fiercely disputed rose oil. The church, with the antagonist at its helm, labels these openings as a threat to the institution's orthodoxy and sets out to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to shift from inflexible rationalism and return to feeling, nevertheless, her certainty that these sites must be defended – that what they stand for and their value is somehow vital – strengthens. "The substance, or the substance, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or whatever we label it," she says, "it is necessary." The setting for a Blakean conflict between innocence and knowledge is prepared.

Narrative Pacing and Personal Evolution

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