By Matthew J. Barbour
Post-apocalyptic literature is often lumped into the science fiction genre. However, many of these novels—not just those with zombies and vampires—contain dark or shocking subtexts that fit in just as well, or even better, with modern horror fiction. A classic example is Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. The slow decline of civilization and the constant threat of cannibals produce a deeply chilling experience that rivals anything Stephen King or Dean Koontz has ever written.
Dmitriy Glukhovsky’s Metro 2033 follows a similar path. Set in the early 21st century after a nuclear war, the remnants of humanity now live underground in the Moscow subway system. Like the city-states of ancient Greece, individual stations govern themselves and sometimes band together to form small states. Their ideologies vary, from Koranic to fascism, non-specific mysticism to communism. They go to war with each other and with mutant creatures that have risen from the ashes of the old world.
A group of creatures that call this new world home are the “Dark Ones”. They come down from the surface and attack the VDNKh subway station. A young man named Artyom embarks on a journey to cleanse the subway station of these monsters. While riding the subway, he will encounter many humans and mutants that live in the tunnels. He will witness the spiritual, political, and economic philosophies that have grown in this last bastion of humanity. Ultimately, Artyom will decide if these things are worth saving, and at what cost.
Like many Russian novels, the overall tone of Metro 2033 is pessimistic. Humanity has failed. If there is hope for a new era, those who survive see no hope. Instead, they focus on the brutality of daily life, where the only currency of value is rifle bullets. While some still cling to the value of books, there are fewer and fewer of them as time goes by. More turn to new idols and gods. They refuse to accept a world that is now nothing more than legend.
The scene is one of the most vivid and memorable ever. Artyom’s struggles are little more than a catalyst for exploring Glukhovsky’s fully realized Metro. As an experiment in world-building, Metro 2033 succeeds tremendously, even without a strong central narrative. Rather than moving with a sense of individual agency, the characters feel more like pawns forced by circumstances beyond their control to do what they must.
Artyom follows a path that others have laid out for him. He doesn’t stop to think about his actions or the costs involved until it’s too late. He may not pull the trigger, but in many ways he’s more responsible than those who do. Ultimately, perhaps it’s fitting that he inherits this world. After all, it’s a world that humans have created for themselves.
We can’t help but ask: Who is the good guy? Who is the bad guy? Are these just constructs that humans use to justify their behavior? Is such behavior really necessary?
Fans of the video game adaptation of the novel may be surprised to learn that the story is far more philosophical. Metro 2033 is not a post-apocalyptic action-adventure game. The pace of the game is deliberately slow. Short action scenes are interspersed with more despairing narratives describing the places and people in the tunnels. Life in the subway only gets worse.
Glukhovsky’s vision is a triumph of post-apocalyptic literature. Metro 2033’s dark and brooding future is equally at home in the science fiction and horror genres. It’s a modern classic that should be read by everyone.
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score: 5/5
