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Tings are collapsing in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that appears, here more than ever, as a energized and slanted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along novel 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". Authority is flowing away from states, and pooling in the halls of religious leaders, the vaults of corporations, the grasp of rioters. "An element is at work, very quietly, imperceptibly", says trader a trader character, keeping a observant eye on the trade routes from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and durable are faltering and collapsing."

Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey

Precisely what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the inquiry that drives the concluding book, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth concluded. This is, by all accounts, the author's final foray into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating realm he first revealed in the distant past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a world whose terrain corresponds to that of our world, but whose chronicles tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals appear and think and act like us, but are paired by animal souls, beings in beast form; where the skies are teeming with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but underneath, buses are taken and tea is consumed, and middle-aged professors carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a child in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the prequel, the prequel with which the author began this trilogy, is now a adult: still recognisably the spiky and tenacious main character of the prior volumes, but more mature, sadder, warier, more doubtful. This limitation is amplified by her division from her daemon, her daemon – but it was also, paradoxically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.

Interwoven Plots

His choice to depart in search of that innocent part of her which she appears to have shed (an trait which he represents as her "creativity"), and her mission to reconnect with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which followed the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with amazement and danger on the way. But from the beginning, deeper currents were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the faith's governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of rigid, procedural evil – is under fresh command, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's uncle, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has worked himself into the position of president of the authority's ruling assembly, and is set on using his fresh influence to extend the institution's rule. Another protagonist, who rescued young the heroine to safety along a overflowing river as an 11-year-old in the prequel, is now an university scholar with a additional duty in intelligence work: he is sent to a key location to learn more about his aims. And underlying all of this is the mystery surrounding the scarce and valuable botanical extract which manifests somehow to be the cause of a societal and financial disturbance rippling out from that area. The extract is regarded by various factions as a tradeable commodity, by others as a scientific or mystical miracle, and by others still – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a origin of darkness; an challenge that must be obliterated. The dilemma of its source, its significance, and whether it should be removed or protected is becoming urgent.

As in the first series, Lyra's actions, and her future, are demonstrated to be inextricably linked with the future of the realm

In the previous volume, these plots ran largely in tandem. In this final book, they merge. As in the first trilogy, the protagonist's actions and her destiny are revealed to be inextricably linked with the fate of the world. Her individual quest to reunite with her daemon and recover her vision becomes the key conflict in a broader battle with an oppressive regime which, as such authorities typically do, is seeking to quell autonomy of thought, originality and expression: all the internal, rebellious ways in which individuals can be free.

Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles

The book starts with the finding of a collection of strange openings in the fabric of the world's atmosphere: gateways that seem to give on to other worlds. A particular opening seems to be the source of the highly contested rose oil. The Magisterium, with the antagonist at its leadership, labels these openings as a challenge to the church's orthodoxy and endeavors to destroy them. As the heroine begins to move from rigid reason and revert to feeling, yet, her belief that these locations must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "The substance, or rose oil, or the vision, or the botanical realm, or whatever we label it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a philosophical conflict between purity and experience is prepared.

Story Tempo and Personal Evolution

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