I’ve been a Warhammer fan for decades but have never really cared much about the lore. However, eventually curiosity got the better of me and I decided I wanted to know the story of how Horus, the most beloved and loyal ‘son’ of the Emperor of mankind, had turned traitor, leading his legion against their brothers and splitting the Imperium into bloody civil war.
And by the Emperor does this book start things off on top form.
I’ll admit I was surprised. I don’t know much about the lore of the Warhammer 40,000 universe, and the first thing that struck me was the depth of the story. I don’t mean that to sound derogatory – as a lifelong member of the hobby, I’m well aware of its many facets and the rich narrative that surrounds it. But, regardless of that, Horus Rising is far from the action-packed, adrenaline-pumping sci-fi adventure I had expected.
Instead, what I found was a nuanced and thoughtful exploration of loyalty, ethics, brotherhood, war, religion and more.
Some very brief scene setting. For a reason the book doesn’t explain, at some point mankind was scattered amongst the stars. The Emperor launches his Great Crusade, supported by his demigod-like Primarch commanders and their legions of genetically enhanced superhuman Astartes Space Marines, in an attempt to bring the lost human civilisations together under his rule.
By the start of Horus Rising, the Emperor has retired from the conflict and returned to govern on Terra for reasons unknown, leaving the Primarch Horus Lupercal in charge of the Great Crusade under the title of Warmaster. The novel follows the perspective of Gavriel Loken, an Astartes captain who is invited to join the ranks of Horus’s most trusted advisors and confidants. Also along for the ride are a series of ‘Remembrancers’ – artists, poets, dramatists, documentarists, photographers and writers – who have been given permission to record the epic victories and heroic deeds of the Great Crusade for posterity.
And yet that mighty cause starts to fall into question for Loken and the Remembrancers as it continues on its mission to bring the Emperor’s light to the disparate human cultures. Far from a noble endeavour, the crusade is a brutal affair that brings only subjugation or extermination to those who refuse to acknowledge the one true Emperor of mankind.
This is what the novel does so well. It would be so easy to fetishise the Astartes and their campaign. In fact, I’m sure many fans do – but the truth of the grimdark Warhammer 40,000 universe is that the Space Marines and the Imperium that they serve and protect are not the good guys in the galaxy. Space Marines are indoctrinated, manufactured killers serving a tyrannical empire barely any less barbaric than the civilisations it claims to be enlightening.
Dan Abnett captures this wonderfully, putting his wide cast of characters into situations that test their resolve, their beliefs – or lack of – and their loyalty to the limit. He deftly sows the seeds of an epic tale that will engulf the entire galaxy in war. His writing is sublime, rich and detailed, perfectly matching the depth of his narrative. This book is far beyond simply ‘super macho guys with big guns blow up baddies’, although there is of course quite a bit of that too.
I flew through Horus Rising, utterly hooked by the style and artistry of the writing, the depth of the characters and the aplomb with which the author handled its complex subject matter, albeit with maybe a few too many similes and knowing references to what comes later. Those who think Warhammer is just about playing with toy soldiers are wrong – Games Workshop has created an entire mythos that surrounds its tabletop games. If Warhammer isn’t your thing, I’d encourage you to forget the notion of games and rolling dice and painting and just read Horus Rising as a science fiction novel in isolation of everything else.
Because this isn’t a great Warhammer novel. It’s just a great novel, full stop.
