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Tings are collapsing in the concluding book of The Dust Trilogy, the next of the author's magisterial trilogies set in a universe that seems, here more than ever, as a charged and slanted version of our own. Organizations are crumbling, or restructuring themselves along new and troubling lines. An unseen force "is wrecking the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "currency is failing, and no one knows why". Control is flowing away from governments, and pooling in the chambers of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the control of mobs. "Something is at work, very quietly, gradually", says trader a merchant figure, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient paths from his seat in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were stable and strong are deteriorating and collapsing."

The Central Mystery and The Protagonist's Path

Precisely what that something might be, and methods to fight it, is the inquiry that propels the concluding book, which continues where its predecessor ended. This is, by all accounts, Pullman's final venture into the elaborately built, deeply captivating universe he first unveiled in the distant past, with the publication of His Dark Materials. It's a world whose terrain maps on to that of our world, but whose past diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are joined by daemons, beings in animal form; where the heavens are filled with enchantresses and gryphons, but beneath those skies, transports are caught and drinks is drunk, and mature scholars carry luxury shopping bags. Our heroine, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the original trilogy, and then revisited as a toddler in the first volume, the introductory book with which the author began this trilogy, is now a young woman: still recognisably the spiky and persistent heroine of the prior volumes, but aged, sadder, more careful, less certain. This restraint is heightened by her split from her animal guide, Pan – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which caused him to abandon her in the first place.

Converging Storylines

His choice to depart in pursuit of that youthful part of the heroine which she appears to have shed (an trait which he represents as her "creativity"), and her journey to reconnect with him, were the incitements of the prior book, which chronicled the protagonist undertake a adventurous journey across Europe and into the mountain region, meeting with amazement and danger on the way. But from the outset, deeper currents were in play, and malevolent elements at work. The church authority – the church's ruling body, and the author's deliciously chilling incarnation of strict, bureaucratic wickedness – is under recent guidance, and flexing its muscles. Marcel Delamare – the heroine's relative, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has manoeuvred himself into the role of head of the church's High Council, and is determined on using his fresh influence to broaden the church's control. Malcolm Polstead, who carried infant Lyra to security along a flooded Thames as an young boy in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a sideline in intelligence work: he is dispatched to a key location to discover more about his plans. And behind all of this is the puzzle surrounding the uncommon and precious rose oil which manifests in some way to be the origin of a societal and economic crisis emanating out from Central Asia. The oil is regarded by certain groups as a marketable product, by different parties as a scientific or spiritual phenomenon, and by further factions – the zealous "mountain dwellers" – as a origin of evil; an affront that must be eradicated. The dilemma of its source, what it stands for, and if it should be destroyed or protected is escalating in importance.

As in the original trilogy, our protagonist's actions, and her future, are demonstrated to be deeply entwined with the fate of the realm

In the previous volume, these storylines ran largely in side by side. In the conclusion, they converge. Like the original series, the protagonist's choices and her fate are revealed to be deeply entwined with the destiny of the realm. Her private mission to reconnect with her soul and recover her creativity becomes the central battleground in a wider battle with an authoritarian system which, as such authorities typically do, is attempting to suppress autonomy of thinking, creativity and expression: all the inner, resistant ways in which people can be free.

Cosmic Openings and Moral Battles

The book starts with the finding of a set of unusual fissures in the fabric of the world's sky: windows that seem to lead to alternate realities. A particular portal appears to be the origin of the much debated botanical substance. The church, with the antagonist at its head, designates these windows as a threat to the institution's beliefs and aims to destroy them. As Lyra begins to turn away from rigid reason and return to instinct, yet, her belief that these sites must be protected – that what they stand for and what they offer is mysteriously crucial – strengthens. "Cosmic particles, or the extract, or the creativity, or the Rose Field, or whatever we name it," she says, "we need it." The scene for a Blakean conflict between purity and experience is established.

Plot Rhythm and Protagonist Growth

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