METRO 2034

Author: Dmitry Glukhovsky
Year: 2017 (2009)
Publisher: Coltso
Language: Swedish (Translator Ola Wallin) 

Dmitry Glukhovsky’s book, “Metro 2033” (as discussed in my review from June 2024), though not without its shortcomings, achieved a remarkable success. Despite the passage of over fifteen years since its publication, and a full decade since it was launched to stardom by means of a popular video game adaptation, new readers continue to find their way into his imaginatively wrought post-apocalyptic world, set in the Moscow underground. Yet, there appears to be a consensus among them on one particular point: the sequel, “Metro 2034”, is far inferior to the first book.

“Metro 2034” is set a year after the events of “Metro 2033” and follows a largely different cast of characters than the first volume. However, one familiar hero does return, and with a role of even greater significance than before: Hunter.

Hunter is among the most skilled fighters and trackers in the entire metro, and a master of survival. His reputation precedes him as one who shoots first and asks questions later, harbouring no scruples about sacrificing innocent lives in pursuit of the idea of a greater good. His idea, to be more precise. In “Metro 2034”, he teams up with the significantly more sensitive and poetic adventurer, Homer, on a quest to rescue the remining shards of mankind dwelling in the metro tunnels from certain doom. On their journey, they encounter the sole female character to appear thus far in the series: Sasha.

For natural reasons, the second book differs significantly from its predecessor. It is quite understandable that Glukhovsky composed “Metro 2033” with a distinct political agenda in view; an agenda that reached its fulfilment by the conclusion of that volume. In the sequel, however, there is no longer an agenda to guide the narrative. What remains is merely the post-apocalyptic world itself, and thus the author is obliged to devise a new story. One that must adapt to a world originally crafted for an entirely different purpose.

Glukhovsky does this with a fair degree of success. Unlike the first book, which often read like a series of disconnected events hastily assembled to form a story, this time the storyline is more coherent and easier to follow. The political and philosophical digressions are fewer, giving way to a more action-driven central plot. For those who appreciated the reflective qualities of “Metro 2033”, “Metro 2034” may appear somewhat barren and banal, yet those in search of suspense and action will likely find it quite satisfying.

Still, there is wisdom to be found in the second volume as well. Notably, I find a contemplation of Thomas Hobbes' “Leviathan” (see my review from April 2022) through the prism of the Metro saga thus far to be particularly intriguing. Hobbes posited that in a society bereft of a centralized authority incorporated as an unopposed arbiter, the state of nature would inevitably devolve into a perpetual war of all against all. Only by surrendering our freedom and subjecting ourselves to oppression can we ensure that others are equally oppressed and thereby rendered incapable of harming us. Glukhovsky, however, presents us with a different perspective. In his world, the central power has been annihilated by war, leaving the survivors to contend with one another for the scarce resources that remain available. Yet, Hobbes' vision of a universal state of war does not entirely come to pass. Rather than individuals engaging in their own solitary one-on-one struggles, people band together to form communities, often, and this is key, defined by their opposition to another community. The state of war, as envisioned by Hobbes, does materialise to some extent, but not between individuals; rather, it arises between collectives. Within these collectives, conformity and cooperation are fostered not through the imposition of a judge and punisher, but through the rational choice to unite in the face of an external foe.

Beyond this, the continued scarcity of impactful female characters continues to plague this series. Granted, we are introduced to Sasha, and while her role is not entirely unjustified, the overwhelmingly masculine nature of the world is only accentuated by the presence of a damsel in distress who, after being rescued, endeavours to redeem a man who has seemingly strayed into ruthlessness and violence. Such a trope is far too clichéd not to be conspicuous, particularly in light of the glaring absence of other female characters.

In conclusion, I found myself far less disappointed by this book than some other readers, perhaps owing to my not having been as captivated by the first as they had been. In my view, this sequel proved to be a worthy and moderately enjoyable continuation, with its literary merit still largely dependent on the excellent worldbuilding and captivating settings. Indeed, the principal characters were actually more engaging here than in the initial volume. All in all, Glukhovsky has sustained both pace and altitude with this work. “Metro 2035” now beckons.