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Things are unraveling in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the next of Philip Pullman's magisterial trilogies set in a world that manifests, now more than ever, as a intense and tilted version of our own. Institutions are failing, or restructuring themselves along unfamiliar and disquieting lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "wealth is decaying, and no one knows why". Power is shifting from governments, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the treasuries of corporations, the control of crowds. "An element is at work, silently, gradually", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and durable are faltering and giving way."

Key Puzzle and Lyra's Journey

Just what that something might be, and how to counteract it, is the mystery that animates this final volume, which picks up where its predecessor left off. This is, reportedly, the author's final excursion into the intricately constructed, deeply captivating realm he first revealed 30 years ago, with the launch of Northern Lights. It's a world whose landscape corresponds to that of the real world, but whose past tacks and jibes with ours; where the individuals appear and reason and act like us, but are joined by animal souls, essences in animal form; where the heavens are populated with witches and gryphons, but underneath, transports are ridden and drinks is drunk, and older academics carry Harrods shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a 12-year-old in the first trilogy, and then saw again as a toddler in the prequel, the introductory book with which Pullman began this trilogy, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the prickly and persistent heroine of the prior volumes, but older, melancholic, more careful, more doubtful. This circumscription is heightened by her split from her soul companion, Pan – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which made him desert her in the first place.

Merging Narratives

The daemon's resolve to leave in search of that innocent part of Lyra which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the driving forces of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw Lyra undertake a adventurous voyage across the continent and into the mountain region, meeting with marvel and peril on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The religious council – the religious governing authority, and Pullman's deliciously chilling incarnation of strict, administrative wickedness – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – the heroine's uncle, who faults her for his sister's death – has worked himself into the office of head of the church's governing body, and is intent on using his recently acquired authority to extend the religion's control. Another protagonist, who saved baby Lyra to security along a swollen Thames as an 11-year-old in La Belle Sauvage, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in spycraft: he is dispatched to a key location to learn more about his plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the rare and valuable essential oil which appears mysteriously to be the source of a societal and financial upheaval spreading out from that area. The substance is seen by some as a commercial product, by different parties as a empirical or mystical wonder, and by further factions – the extremist "men from the mountains" – as a origin of malevolence; an affront that must be destroyed. The dilemma of its origins, its significance, and whether it should be removed or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.

As in His Dark Materials, our protagonist's actions, and her future, are shown to be inseparably entwined with the destiny of the world

In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran mostly in parallel. In the conclusion, they merge. Similar to the original series, her choices and her path are shown to be inseparably woven with the fate of the universe. Her private mission to reconnect with her soul and rediscover her creativity becomes the central battleground in a wider battle with an authoritarian government which, as such authorities typically do, is striving to stifle freedom of thinking, innovation and culture: all the personal, rebellious ways in which humans can be independent.

Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles

The novel opens with the discovery of a series of strange openings in the makeup of the planet's atmosphere: gateways that appear to give on to other worlds. An example of a opening manifests to be the origin of the highly contested mystical extract. The church, with its leader at its leadership, classifies these openings as a threat to the church's orthodoxy and sets out to destroy them. As Lyra begins to shift from strict rationalism and back to instinct, yet, her belief that these places must be protected – that their significance and their value is somehow vital – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the substance, or the creativity, or the field of roses, or no matter what we label it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a philosophical tussle between naivety and experience is established.

Narrative Pacing and Character Development

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