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Things are falling apart in the final volume of Pullman's latest trilogy, the second of the author's grand trilogies set in a world that seems, here more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Establishments are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along novel and disquieting lines. An invisible force "is ruining the air and the seasons"; simultaneously, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from states, and gathering in the halls of religious leaders, the coffers of business empires, the hands of rioters. "An element is at work, stealthily, very subtly", says businessman Mustafa Bey, keeping a observant eye on the ancient paths from his post in an Aleppo cafe. "Elements we thought were secure and strong are faltering and failing."

The Central Mystery and Lyra's Journey

Exactly what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that drives the concluding book, which resumes where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, reportedly, the author's concluding venture into the carefully crafted, endlessly enchanting realm he first unveiled in the distant past, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose terrain maps on to that of the real world, but whose history tacks and jibes with ours; where the people appear and think and act like us, but are accompanied by daemons, beings in beast form; where the heavens are teeming with witches and legendary creatures, but underneath, buses are taken and tea is drunk, and middle-aged scholars carry fancy shopping bags. The protagonist, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and then met once more as a infant in the prequel, the introductory book with which the author began The Book of Dust, is now a mature individual: still distinctly the spiky and determined protagonist of the prior volumes, but older, sadder, more cautious, less sure. This limitation is intensified by her division from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the trigger which caused him to abandon her in the first place.

Interwoven Plots

The daemon's resolve to go off in pursuit of that innocent part of Lyra which she may have forgotten (an aspect which he epitomises as her "imagination"), and her journey to reunite with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which followed Lyra undertake a adventurous trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, meeting with amazement and peril on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in action, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the church's ruling body, and the author's brilliantly sinister embodiment of strict, administrative malice – is under new leadership, and flexing its muscles. The antagonist – our protagonist's relative, who faults her for his sibling's death – has worked himself into the office of head of the Magisterium's High Council, and is determined on using his recently acquired power to extend the church's rule. A key character, who rescued infant the heroine to security along a swollen Thames as an young boy in the first book, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in espionage: he is sent to Geneva to learn more about the antagonist's plans. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the uncommon and precious botanical extract which appears mysteriously to be the origin of a societal and economic crisis spreading out from the region. The extract is viewed by various factions as a tradeable good, by alternate groups as a research-based or esoteric phenomenon, and by yet others – the fanatical "men from the mountains" – as a origin of darkness; an challenge that must be obliterated. The dilemma of its origins, its significance, and if it should be removed or preserved is escalating in importance.

As in the original trilogy, Lyra's actions, and her future, are revealed to be deeply entwined with the fate of the universe

In The Secret Commonwealth, these plots ran largely in tandem. In the conclusion, they merge. Similar to the first trilogy, the protagonist's actions and her path are shown to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the universe. Her personal mission to reunite with her companion and recover her vision becomes the central conflict in a wider war with an oppressive system which, as these systems always have, is attempting to stifle freedom of thinking, originality and art: all the personal, resistant ways in which humans can be free.

Dimensional Rifts and Philosophical Struggles

The novel begins with the discovery of a series of strange fissures in the structure of the planet's air: portals that look to give on to alternate realities. One such window manifests to be the origin of the highly contested botanical substance. The church, with its leader at its leadership, designates these windows as a challenge to the church's beliefs and endeavors to eradicate them. As the heroine begins to shift from strict rationalism and revert to intuition, nevertheless, her certainty that these sites must be defended – that their significance and what they provide is mysteriously vital – strengthens. "Dust, or the extract, or the vision, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "it is necessary." The scene for a philosophical conflict between innocence and knowledge is established.

Story Tempo and Character Development

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