Dune by Frank Herbert

Being as long as it has been since I’ve last read Dune, eight or nine years or so, I had a small worry that my extremely high opinion of the book was at least slightly inflated by time’s passage and fond memory. The first chapter alone was enough to dissuade me of that. I sit here now, having just finished, with full confirmation that Dune remains on the throne my thirteen-year-old self set it upon; that of my favorite book. Herbert’s writing is sharp, his ideas are powerful, and he is willing to dive deep immediately. He asks much of the reader, providing a glossary and gently insisting we keep up. Those types of stories are the most rewarding, I’ve found.

Forgive me but most of this review, all of it perhaps, will be unfiltered praise. This book means a lot to me; it has for a long time. And revisiting it, in light of all the exciting movie news with Denis Villeneuve, was more than a treat. I will refrain from summarizing the story; it’s likely you know what it’s about. If not, Goodreads has neatly summarized it better than I will.

The book, and the prose in general, holds up extremely well for having been written over fifty years ago. Admittedly the character thoughts and some dialogue is a little stiff in areas. But not so much so that it hindered my enjoyment in any way. Additionally I’m not used to omniscient narration; you just don’t see it that often currently. I don’t at least. So the POV hopping without chapter or line breaks took just a little getting used to. Having said that, I am so impressed by Herbert’s expertise at moving his story using the art of conversation, and all its minutiae. This is especially true when Fremen are in conversation with non-natives, and the culture clash is on display.

If you hold it in your hand, what you hold is more than a mere science fiction novel. It breaks through those boundaries as a worm broaching the desert surface. This is a space-fantasy, and a heady mixture. The story is wrapped up as much in mysticism and religion as it is in technology; more so even. It is as concerned with ecological prediction and deep, flowing political undercurrents as it is with a well-written fight scene. It is the perfect mixture of odd-future strangeness, vast cosmic scope, and spiritual involvement that stitches the story up at the seams. Prophecy, and psychedelic consciousness-expansion through the addictive spice melange, are as much the heart of this story as laser guns and space ships. So much so that one wonders just how many mushrooms Frank Herbert was eating as he penned this thing in the 1960’s. And I’m only kind of kidding.

Herbert, with this first story alone, never mind the sequels, displays an absolute mastery of world-building. He has just the right flavors of real-world inspiration and influence to make it all feel familiar; especially in the touches of Eastern influence, down to the broken remnants of Sanskrit appearing in the Fremen language. It all just feels so feasible. Like you’re at once reading a manual of our distant future and texts of our ancient past. Meeting in the now. That ethereal, dream-like moment of present time. The now. It’s clear I’ve been infected by the mood of the story. And beyond anything else, the story is itself is just so interesting. I found it hard to put down even for a moment. Even the epigraphs are worth a session of deep thought, and clearly lead the way for popular usage in things like Sanderson’s Cosmere stories.

Dune influenced so much that followed it it’s just undeniable. I can’t help but draw parallels with the Wheel of Time, which I’m in the middle of. I drew comparisons with the Aiel/Fremen immediately when I started reading WoT, and that comparison is reinforced. As are other little things that hint at direct homage (Shaitan being the name for Satan in Dune, for example). I remember, all those years ago in Frogtown Books, the quote on the back that caught my eye. ‘I know nothing comparable to it except the Lord of the Rings.’ What higher praise? Here is a book that transformed the landscape of science fiction; just as it transformed, for me, what fiction can be.

Something like Dune is extremely hard to review for me, so forgive my love affair in the form of language. I just can’t say enough good things. Dune shaped my reading life growing up, and now I remember why. I can do nothing more but urge you to read it.

Great edition. Great cover art. Great story and writing.

But no bookmark. Come on Amazon you should include a bookmark.

TL;DR:

Dune by Frank Herbert takes the reader through an adventure of extremes, from the water dominated cultures of the planet Caladan to the water-starved cultures of the planet Arrakis. The reader is subjected to politics, cultural extremes, ecology, religion, and some very psychedelic interpretations of time. However, the book can be a bit difficult to read as Herbert vigorously exercised his creative liberties and created quite a few words, and then never endeavors to explain these words. With its rich, vibrant worlds, developed characters, and engaging story, I am comfortable calling Dune a must read for anyone who enjoys the science fiction genre.

The Cover:

DuneI really like the cover of this book. The art is minimalistic, powerful, and attractive to the eye. Needless to say, I’m a big fan of simple, clean imagery. It’s difficult for me to say whether I would buy this book based upon the cover art alone or not, because I’ve had knowledge of Dune and it’s story since middle school, but I feel comfortable saying that the cover would have definitely piqued my interest.

The Bad:

1. Parts of the book seem needlessly wordy and slow. They are only a few of them, but they seem concentrated near the beginning of the book. This made getting into the story as the book began a bit difficult.

The Good:

1. Herbert does an excellent job creating and developing the Fremen culture and the dangerous, exotic world of Arrakis. From the first time you meet a Fremen, it is clear that their culture values water above all else, and that their reverence for water and the harsh environment in which they exist has trickled down to affect every facet of their existence.
The characters in the book are well developed and interesting, each of them with their own emotions, patterns of thought, and internal struggles. The Baron Harkonnen is deplorable and will drive you to hate him. Dr. Yueh will earn your ire, as well as your pity. I think Paul was my favorite example though, as he constantly struggles with his humanity and the awesome powers he gains over the course of the book. But even despite his awesome powers, and the god-like status he attains among the Fremen, Paul remains grounded and realistic in regards to who he is and what he can do.

2. The story is engaging, well paced, and thought provoking. I stayed interested over the course of the entire book, and rarely, if ever, found myself skipping over chunks of text. Herbert does a fantastic job spinning elements of politics, religion, and environmentalism seamlessly into the story.

3. I especially enjoyed the “realism” of the book. This isn’t a space opera filled with with laser gun fights, there are no warm fuzzies of a romantic nature to be found, and Paul is not a shining paragon of humanity. The book may have things of a fantastic nature, such as monstrously large worms, mind-enhancing drugs, and cult-like organizations filled with future-seeing women, but all of these things exist side by side with a gritty, realistic depiction of political strife, the consequences of power, and the human struggle to survive.

The Meh:

1. Herbert throws made up words and family names at you rapidly. It can quickly become frustrating, and sometimes even overwhelming to read. This is most frustrating to me when the word is needlessly made up. Kanly? It means vendetta. Richece? Minor houses and wealthy individuals. Both of these words were needlessly created and are never explained within the book.

Synopsis:

Paul’s father, the Duke Leto Atriedes, has been gifted the planet Arrakis by the Padishah Emperor. Normally this sort of gift would be seen as a great boon due to economic opportunities a planet such as Arrakis presents, but this gift is laced with danger, treachery, and subterfuge. Shortly after the House Atriedes relocates from the water-abundant world of Caladan to the arid desert world of Arrakis, the trap is sprung. The Baron Harkonnen, an old enemy of the House Atriedes, assaults Paul’s family. The attack leaves many people dead, the Atriedes claim to Arrakis all but destroyed, and forces Paul and his mother into the arms of the Fremen, who believe Paul to be the savior they have all awaited: the legendary Lisan al Gaib. Many secrets, and many answers lay in the desert, woven into Fremen culture and belief. Using his wits, years of rigorous training, and his new-found place within Fremen culture, Paul will undergo a transformation that is both symbolic and powerful. He will become something more than human, he will become the Kwisatz Haderach.

E-rudhi dina heshidanii ne lisan al-gaib!