Del Rey; June 8, 2021
432 pages (ebook)
4 / 5 ✪
I was kindly furnished an advance copy in return for a fair and honest review. Many thanks to Penguin, Del Rey and NetGalley for the eARC! Any quotes are for demonstrative purposes only, included to help showcase the level of detail and writing style that the author employs, and may not be included in the final, published version. All opinions are my own.
Jeff Goldblum does not belong in this world.
Rabbits is the debut novel by Terry Miles. Based in the universe of a 10-part podcast by the same name, Rabbits (the book) is a standalone adventure that can be enjoyed without prior knowledge of the game. The game is everything here—not that it makes any sense. At least, not at first.
K is our tour guide to the world of Rabbits—a world that he’s somewhat obsessed with. Ever since the eighth iteration of the game, K’s been trying to find a way in. But with the tenth recently ended, his wait may be over.
Enter Alan Scarpio. The reclusive billionaire—also known as Californiac, winner of the 6th iteration of the game—is in Seattle, looking specifically for him. He needs K to help him fix Rabbits before the 11th iteration begins, or else the entire world may pay the price.
Only a few days after their first meeting, Scarpio disappears. And shortly after that, the 11th iteration of Rabbits begins. But something is undeniably different. Within days several experienced players have gone missing, and something begins to lash out at causality. But is it the game, or is it the universe itself that is broken? And even if K can win the game that’s not a game—will it matter?
But, as they say: Win the game, save the world.
Rabbits, above all else, is utterly addictive, entirely readable, totally immersive, and borderline nonsensical. Honestly, I’ve read few things like it. Books that I needed to keep reading—without fully understanding what the hell was going on.
At the center of this stands Rabbits (the game). It’s basically a series of incredibly unlikely events or concurrences occurring in a pattern, a pattern that leads its players down a particular path that—if they’re good enough—will lead them to something impossible. And this impossibility will do two things: first, provide them with another clue that will allow them to progress in the game; and second, make certain that they will never turn their back on Rabbits again. As I said—Rabbits is utterly addictive. No more so than to its players.
My first impression of Rabbits is that it’s like The Matrix crossed with the God Game, combined with a heavy dose of Fringe. Shortly after finishing Rabbits, I did two things. One—I started rewatching Fringe (if you haven’t seen it I can’t recommend this enough). And two—I watched the Matrix. If you haven’t seen Fringe, that’s bad enough, but if you haven’t seen the Matrix, you’ve been wasting your life. Right. Anyway. Here’s an example.
Enter the Matrix.
About six and a half minutes in, the following iconic scene begins.
Wake up, Neo…
The Matrix has you…
Follow the white rabbit.
You know what happens next. But let’s say it doesn’t. Instead of following the rabbit to a club playing Rob Zombie, let’s say he follows it to a Blockbuster. There, after losing sight of her, a display of an original copy of Michael Collins catches his eye. Of course, he buys the VHS of Michael Collins because lead man Liam Neeson once played the lead in another period piece—Rob Roy, about the folk hero, Rob Roy MacGregor. “MacGregor” being the Scottish spelling for “McGregor”. As in “Mr. McGregor”. Neo takes home the movie and watches it, but instead of Michael Collins, the tape turns out to be a copy of Looney Tunes episode “Haredevil Hare”, the cartoon which famously introduces Marvin Martian. From there, everything proceeds as you’d expect. Or does it? For after watching Haredevil Hare for the 3rd time, Neo notices a disparity between the episode he remembers and what he sees. You see, in the mockup of the Daily Snooze, the fictional newspaper which once proclaimed “Heroic Rabbit Volunteers as First Passenger”, Neo instead sees the headline “Seattle Bar Reopens After 16 years as a Mime studio”, which he uses to go to a bar, order a Harvey Wallbanger, go home with a redhead girl named Jessica, and find the “Night of the Lepus” poster she has in her flat. A movie also known as “Rabbits”. Upon removing the poster from the wall, Neo is confronted by a strange phrase, scratched into the wallpaper: “The Door is Open.” (After which, presumably he takes the blue pill, falls asleep, wakes up, and then the regular movie begins.)
And that’s a crash course on how to play Rabbits. You follow seemingly random yet somewhat connected clues around the city, until they lead you to another clue, an impossibility, or a mention of the word “Rabbits”. The phrase “The Door is Open” is also popular, so that’s there too. And on and on the rabbit-hole goes until eventually you either win, die, go insane, or crash from lack of sleep, malnutrition, scurvy, and whatever else.
But with the uncertainty here regarding the improbability of patterns and events, just how sure can you be that you’re playing the game? Well… you can’t. At all. And while the patterns and clues and chase makes Rabbits an intoxicating read, the uncertainty and obscurity makes it incredibly frustrating.
For the longest time, I had no idea what exactly was going on in Rabbits. I had absolutely no trouble reading on, because I wanted to figure out where it was all leading. The good news is that as the story progresses, you’ll eventually get a better sense of how Rabbits works. Once you do, it’s a pretty thrilling adventure.
That is, until the conclusion, which goes a bit strange. Well, stranger. Think the Matrix: Revolutions crossed with the later seasons of Fringe strange. Yeah—it’s that bad. Don’t get me wrong, the ending is good. But the conclusion is nuts.
Other than the story (which I think I’ve covered quite enough), the characters are what makes a book great. The characters of Rabbits are… pretty good, actually. K is the only POV, and he’s a pretty good one. I actually came to care a good bit about K and what happened to him. The supporting cast is… a mixed bag. Mainly it’s Chloe, who is equally strong. I would’ve liked a little bit more backstory on her, but she has more than enough depth and development that I cared about her right alongside K. Otherwise, nobody else really stands out. I mean, most of the supporting cast is made up of hipsters—so “depth” might be asking too much. Or it could be that no one other than those two is around long enough to make a lasting impression. Not that they die or anything; they just fade in and out.
While at times a bit complex and convoluted, Rabbits is an immersive and entertaining thriller set in a near-present Earth. Though it only really features two main characters (and one POV), both are written and fleshed out quite nicely. Even after it’s over, Rabbits leaves a lasting desire for more—so much so that I immediately watched the Matrix, and then started bingeing Fringe (two of the outlets that it most reminded me of). The reason to read Rabbits, however, lies in its story. A story surrounding a game that’s so exclusive, so obscure, that it’s difficult to even know for sure that you’re playing it. But once you figure out the game that’s not a game (which you will, if you stick with it), Rabbits provides a fast, intoxicating chase down the narrow alleys and rain-slick Seattle streets. A thirst for adventure mingles with the sense of impending doom. If you fail, you might just die. But if you win—win the game, save the world.