*There are spoilers ahead.*
I just finished Sandworms of Dune, the eighth and final book in the Dune series as envisioned by Frank Herbert and finished by his son Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson, so it seems like a good time to take a look back at the series and offer a review of sorts.
I started reading the series about 15 years ago, but my
first encounter with Dune goes back nearly 30 years to 1984, when I had just
turned 11 and my dad took me to the Hardacre Theater in Tipton, Iowa to see the
movie Dune. I had a Mr. Pibb from the vending machine because that was the
Golden Age, but we both went home feeling sick and spent much of the night
throwing up. Bad popcorn, I guess.
Based on the first novel by Frank Herbert, Dune is about
power struggles surrounding the desert planet Arrakis, home of giant worms that
produce a mind-enhancing substance known as the spice melange, the most
precious commodity in the universe.
The movie was too dark and weird for my dad, but even as an
adolescent, dark and weird was my thing. In the years ahead, I would often rent Dune
on VHS, exploring the intricacies of the plot, memorizing the lines, falling
into Sean Young’s eyes, and eventually coming to appreciate the hand of David
Lynch--quirky but effective casting, surreal dream sequences and rich
atmospheres.
When I began reading the novels, I could clearly imagine
Kyle MacLachlan as Paul Atreides, Everett McGill’s deep voice saying Stilgar’s
dialogue, and the sandworms rising up and swallowing swaths of desert. Dune is
one of the most distinctive sci-fi creations that I know of and one rich with
analogies to the political, military, religious, economic and environmental
complexities of our own world. Many were not as excited about the film as I
was, but few who bother to read the book come away disappointed.
However, the book was not a total success with me. While the
first half is a plunge into a strange world with wonderful beasts, rich
characters, foreign cultures, battles, love affairs and a strange mechanics of power,
the second half is talky, with little happening for chapter after chapter until
the final battle. The climax is big and changes the Dune universe
epically, but I got the sense Herbert knew where he wanted to go, just not how
to get there.
Thus, filler.
Thus, filler.
I read Books 2 through 5 back-to-back sometime around 2000, and unfortunately,
more of the first book’s weaknesses than strengths pervaded the series. I sensed
that Herbert had a big idea around which to base each book but no idea how to
portray the events leading up to and stemming from that idea. Instead, you get
entire conversations of cryptic philosophical statements that a Zen master
somewhere might understand and chapter upon chapter of internal monologue
hinting at the wheels within wheels of the characters’ political machinations.
When an actual event happens, it’s often between books or
off-screen, as it were, so you don’t get to read it. I believe it was Heretics
of Dune (Book 5) that spent hundreds of pages working up to a major battle, and
just when I thought it could be forestalled no longer, I turned the page to
find the characters reminiscing about the big battle. Yes, it had occurred in
between chapters.
I put Heretics of Dune down in disgust.
Roughly a decade later, I decided I should at least finish
the original series. I read most of Chapterhouse: Dune (Book 6) while waiting
for my wife at the hospital while she had tests done in the last month of
pregnancy with our son. By that time, a lot more had gone wrong with the series.
Dead was the rich cast of characters, cold was the human
interaction, disappeared were the sandworms and the planet Dune itself! (First,
it was terraformed into a green planet and then it was cooked to a cinder by
weapons called Obliterators.)
Instead, we have an author grasping for new ideas that turn out to be all too like the old ones, only kitschy recreations. When Miles Teg suddenly gains the ability to move really, really fast, it just doesn’t impress like Paul’s god-like prescience. When we’ve had Bene Gesserits in their forbidding black robes and ability to mentally control their own biological processes on a cellular level, Honored Matres who wear red leotards and kill people with really, really intense sex are just tacky.
Instead, we have an author grasping for new ideas that turn out to be all too like the old ones, only kitschy recreations. When Miles Teg suddenly gains the ability to move really, really fast, it just doesn’t impress like Paul’s god-like prescience. When we’ve had Bene Gesserits in their forbidding black robes and ability to mentally control their own biological processes on a cellular level, Honored Matres who wear red leotards and kill people with really, really intense sex are just tacky.
And yet, the original idea of Dune is so good that it’s hard
to stay away.
When I heard that Frank Herbert’s son Brian Herbert and
Kevin J. Anderson were writing new Dune books, I was skeptical but intrigued. So
far, they have written two sequels, two trilogies of prequels, and a number of
interquels that appears to be growing even as I type these words. There’s an
online ticker and every few minutes a bell rings indicating the addition of a
new volume to the series. I’ve only read the two sequels, and thankfully, I can
say they do a fair job of reclaiming the series from its worst moments.
Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson don’t have Frank Herbert’s
bold ideas or the literary style of his better passages, but they are capable
and dedicated. When I saw Dean Koontz speak at the International Comic-Con in San
Diego a few years back, he mentioned co-authoring his first Frankenstein book with Anderson. He
said he had to rewrite the whole thing, but at least Anderson was “professional.”
Not the highest of praise, but Anderson does have an ability to turn out books
that readers enjoy (my review of Clockwork Angels).
In many ways, the sequels were a relief from Frank Herbert’s
often impenetrable prose. They're intelligible, if a bit staid, and events happen
right there on the page! The two authors, working from Frank Herbert’s outlines,
deftly weave together plots and characters stretching back thousands of years
in the Dune universe, through Franks’s original sextology and their own
prequels. The inspiration and raw vision of the early books may not be
present--they never hum--but enough is sustained to provide a satisfying
conclusion.
I’ll be taking a hiatus from the Dune books for a while, but
the interquels have piqued my interest. That copy of Paul of Dune autographed
by Brian Herbert won’t stay unread forever. Falling as it does between Books 1
and 2, my favorites, I’m likely to enjoy it.
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