​EXPLORING THE LABYRINTH: 7. THE RISING: SELECTED SCENES FROM THE END OF THE WORLD

 
In this series, I will be reading every Brian Keene book that has been published (and is still available in print) in order of original publication, and then producing an essay on it. With the exception of Girl On The Glider, these essays will be based upon a first read of the books concerned. The article will assume you’ve read the book, and you should expect MASSIVE spoilers.
 
I hope you enjoy my voyage of discovery.

​​​Exploring The Labyrinth: 7. The Rising: Selected scenes from the end of the world

So my journey brings me to my first collection of Keene’s short fiction. As the title clearly signposts, this book contains short stories (over 30 of them, in point of fact) set in the same universe as The Rising series of novels. Each story really is short, clocking in at 1,000 words a pop, so this one is a lethally quick read, containing a dizzying array of characters and situations; most new to the reader, but the odd familiar face from the series does crop up, as well. The other interesting thing about the collection is that the stories start during the events of The Rising (including Danny’s phone call that kicks off the novel's narrative, told here from Danny’s side), but move past that, taking in the second and third waves of the mythos apocalypse. So somewhere around the two thirds mark, we’re treated to the grizzly image of all insect life becoming homicidal, and even, in the final story, the coming of the Teraphim, who finally consume the planet with fire.
 
The origins of the collection are also interesting. These tales were originally presented in a limited edition hardback, and for an additional fee, people buying the book could also buy into the book - that is, have a character based on them feature in one of the stories. Looking at the afterword, Keene clearly spent some time in researching this once the people were known, taking with them and finding out the kinds of things they were interested in (looking forward, he did a similar collection for the Earthworm Gods universe, with many of the same people paying to be in both).
 
As noted above, this means the book has an incredible range of people and places included, taking in parts of Europe and Australia, as well as many states within the US. The short running length of each tale also adds to the sense of both pace and scale, with the punchy (nad, frequently, bloody) vignettes zipping by at speed, courtesy of Keene’s incredibly readable prose. While there are, inevitably, some tales that I wished had gotten a bit more space to breathe, I admire the structural commitment, and overall, I think it helps the collection more than it hurts. There’s some fine individual tales here, but it really is the sheer volume of perspectives and settings that give it power; there’s a feeling of being witness to a truly global event, via this kaleidoscope of narratives.
 
It also demonstrates the sheer scale of Keene’s imagination. In the last essay, I spoke about the section of Ghoul where we’re given a tour of the graveyard, taking in the final moments of a series of citizens of the small town the story is set in; here, with a broader sweep, we see the same trick. Despite the shared backdrop, despite the shared running length, despite, in many cases, a shared fate, broadly speaking (let’s face it, things are, for the most part, not going to end well), Keene makes each story different, sparkling with character, with situation. In one tale, a zombie captured by a survivor who begins to tell him about a novel he’s read - the survivor dies, and the Squizzm is annoyed, electing to wait until the man is possessed by one of his kin, in order that he can learn the ned of the tale. Elsewhere, a tinned narrative tells of a man’s ill fated attempt to secure medicine for his sick wife, against the backdrop of Melbourne, Australia's descent into mayhem. We also revisit Troll, one of my favourite characters from The Rising, and get some illuminating back story on how he came to be.
 
It’s the characters that really make this collection, for me; this parade of vividly portrayed, almost exclusively doomed humans, each facing impossible choices, heartbreaking loss, traumatizing violence and obscenity. Sure, Keene also takes the opportunity to remind us - again - that human monsters are often the scariest, with many of the more stomach churning moments in the collection coming at the hands of non-zombies. Still, overall, this is a story that focuses on the ordinary person, in all their diverse and random glory, applies unbearable pressure, and chronicles what happens.
 
I’ll be honest, I’d come in fully expecting something enjoyable but ultimately throwaway, a curio for completests only. Having read it, though, I have to say I think this is an essential instalment in The Rising canon of work, both for the way it enriches the world the story is set in, populating it with over 30 new characters, stories, and perspectives, and also for how, in the closing tales, the second and third waves are portrayed. Even for end of the world stories, there’s a cruelty to Keene’s vision of the end (or, at least, this version of his vision of the end - Earthworm Gods, White Fire, and next story Take The Long Way Home suggest the ways in which the world might end are something of an obsession), with survivors facing ever tougher odds, and ultimately, no possibility of making it out alive. The final story really hit home, with the fires feeling like an all-too-close-to-home metaphor for the existential crisis of global warming that we currently face. But that emotional resonance is there throughout the collection; while there are some moments of levity and shlock, Keene’s emotional intelligence is as strong as ever, and many of these tales are, as you might expect, emotionally harrowing.
 
I found this book to be unexpectedly brilliant, and damned impressive, in both form and content.
 
Next up: Take The Long Way Home.
 
KP
17/2/19