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Tings are falling apart in the concluding book of The Book of Dust, the next of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a world that seems, in this volume especially, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or restructuring themselves along novel and disturbing lines. An invisible force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Power is draining from authorities, and gathering in the offices of theocrats, the treasuries of corporations, the control of rioters. "An element is at work, silently, imperceptibly", says trader Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an city cafe. "Things we thought were stable and strong are deteriorating and collapsing."

Core Enigma and The Protagonist's Path

Just what that force might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that drives this final volume, which continues where the previous book ended. This is, according to many, the author's concluding venture into the elaborately built, endlessly enchanting universe he first introduced 30 years ago, with the release of His Dark Materials. It's a realm whose terrain aligns with that of the real world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are paired by animal souls, beings in animal form; where the heavens are teeming with enchantresses and mythical beasts, but below, vehicles are caught and drinks is sipped, and middle-aged professors carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first met as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then revisited as a infant in the first volume, the introductory book with which the author began this trilogy, is now a adult: still distinctly the prickly and persistent main character of the prior volumes, but aged, more sorrowful, more cautious, less certain. This circumscription is heightened by her division from her animal guide, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the cause which made him desert her in the first place.

Merging Narratives

His choice to leave in search of that childlike part of her which she may have forgotten (an trait which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her quest to reconnect with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw the protagonist undertake a picaresque trek across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with marvel and danger on the way. But from the outset, underlying forces were in motion, and darker forces at work. The Magisterium – the faith's controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling embodiment of strict, bureaucratic wickedness – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Lyra's uncle – the heroine's family member, who blames her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the office of leader of the church's High Council, and is intent on using his recently acquired power to expand the institution's control. A key character, who rescued baby the heroine to security along a flooded Thames as an child in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to a key location to find out more about his aims. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the scarce and valuable essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the source of a societal and economic crisis rippling out from the region. The substance is viewed by some as a commercial product, by alternate groups as a scientific or mystical phenomenon, and by further factions – the fanatical "mountain dwellers" – as a source of evil; an affront that must be obliterated. The question of its source, what it stands for, and if it should be destroyed or protected is becoming urgent.

Similar to His Dark Materials, the heroine's decisions, and her future, are revealed to be inseparably entwined with the future of the realm

In the previous volume, these narratives ran broadly in parallel. In the conclusion, they come together. Like His Dark Materials, her movements and her path are revealed to be deeply woven with the destiny of the universe. Her private quest to rejoin with her soul and rediscover her imagination becomes the key conflict in a broader war with an authoritarian regime which, as these systems often attempt, is striving to suppress independence of reason, innovation and art: all the personal, defiant ways in which people can be free.

Atmospheric Fissures and Moral Battles

The story begins with the unveiling of a set of unusual cracks in the fabric of the world's air: windows that seem to lead to other worlds. An example of a opening appears to be the point of the much debated mystical extract. The authority, with its leader at its head, labels these portals as a challenge to the religion's beliefs and sets out to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to move from inflexible logic and revert to intuition, yet, her belief that these places must be defended – that what they stand for and their value is somehow vital – strengthens. "The substance, or the extract, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or whatever we call it," she says, "we require it." The scene for a philosophical tussle between naivety and knowledge is prepared.

Story Tempo and Personal Evolution

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