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Tings are collapsing in the final volume of The Book of Dust, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that appears, now more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Institutions are weakening, or restructuring themselves along new and disquieting lines. An hidden force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is draining from governments, and accumulating in the chambers of theocrats, the vaults of corporations, the hands of rioters. "Something is at work, very quietly, gradually", says businessman a trader character, keeping a watchful eye on the trade routes from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were stable and durable are deteriorating and collapsing."

Core Enigma and Her Quest

Just what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that drives this final volume, which continues where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, according to many, Pullman's final foray into the carefully crafted, deeply captivating universe he first introduced in the distant past, with the publication of the first trilogy. It's a world whose geography corresponds to that of our world, but whose chronicles veers and changes with ours; where the people appear and think and behave like us, but are joined by external spirits, souls in beast form; where the skies are filled with sorceresses and mythical beasts, but below, transports are taken and tea is sipped, and middle-aged professors carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first introduced to as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began the series, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the prickly and determined main character of the prior volumes, but more mature, sadder, warier, more doubtful. This limitation is amplified by her split from her daemon, Pantalaimon – but it was also, ironically, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.

Interwoven Plots

The daemon's resolve to leave in search of that childlike part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an aspect which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her quest to rejoin with him, were the incitements of The Secret Commonwealth, which saw the protagonist undertake a wandering trek across Europe and into the Caucasus, meeting with amazement and danger on the way. But from the start, underlying forces were in motion, and malevolent elements at work. The Magisterium – the religious ruling body, and Pullman's masterfully eerie representation of strict, bureaucratic malice – is under recent guidance, and showing its strength. The antagonist – Lyra's family member, who faults her for his sister's death – has positioned himself into the position of head of the church's governing body, and is intent on using his newfound power to extend the church's control. A key character, who rescued baby the heroine to security along a flooded Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an academic with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to the city to discover more about Delamare's plans. And behind all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and costly rose oil which manifests mysteriously to be the cause of a social and economic upheaval rippling out from the region. The oil is seen by some as a marketable product, by others as a empirical or esoteric wonder, and by further factions – the fanatical "highland figures" – as a origin of evil; an insult that must be eradicated. The question of its source, its meaning, and if it should be destroyed or protected is coming rapidly to the fore.

Like the original trilogy, the heroine's deeds, and her future, are revealed to be deeply linked with the future of the universe

In its predecessor, these plots ran largely in parallel. In The Rose Field, they come together. Similar to His Dark Materials, the protagonist's movements and her path are revealed to be deeply entwined with the fate of the realm. Her personal mission to reunite with her soul and rediscover her imagination becomes the key battleground in a larger war with an oppressive system which, as such authorities often attempt, is striving to stifle freedom of thinking, innovation and expression: all the personal, defiant ways in which people can be independent.

Cosmic Openings and Ideological Conflicts

The novel opens with the finding of a set of strange openings in the makeup of the world's air: windows that appear to open into alternate realities. An example of a window appears to be the source of the much debated rose oil. The church, with the antagonist at its helm, designates these openings as a threat to the religion's doctrine and aims to eliminate them. As our protagonist begins to shift from rigid rationalism and revert to feeling, however, her certainty that these places must be protected – that what they stand for and their value is in some way essential – increases. "Dust, or rose oil, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or no matter what we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The stage for a philosophical struggle between innocence and maturity is set.

Plot Rhythm and Character Development

At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the