Dune

Dune is English literature’s most prominent sci-fi story which set the template for movies like Star Wars and offered a political commentary on the then-present day quest for oil in the Middle East. It has six books which follows the planet’s history and the unrelenting quest for their stand-in for oil, spice/melange. We see kings rise and fall, we see people die and come back, we see planets terraform over decades and even centuries. The series is vast, yet deeply philosophical. It combines elements of religion, politics and economy to paint a truly encompassing picture of our own geopolitical problems. Till Denis Villeneuve decided to make the movie, I hadn’t really heard of it. A lot of modern sci-fi is based on the principles this book introduces, and people generally tend to read those rather than the original that set the precedent. But before watching his first movie in the Dune trilogy, I decided to read the first book.

The book is about Paul Atreides’ rise to power and his control over the spice production and eventually the empire. Like oil, spice is also used by guild navigators for intergalactic travel. While petroleum is rarely consumed by humans, spice when consumed gives hallucinations and with the right genetic material so perfectly curated by the Bene Gesserit (a religious wing with political ambitions), it can also give superpowers. Regardless of the outlandish sci-fi elements, the books offer a deep introspection on how religion and economy influence politics and what actually goes into controlling the masses. This is a theme that is continued throughout the series and in my opinion, this study of human history through literature is the book’s greatest selling point. Another aspect I truly enjoyed was how little the book focused on spice. In the beginning, there is a lot of hubbub about the spice factories and how it is produced in the desert and whatnot. In the second half of the book, when Paul meets the Fremen, the indigenous population of the planet, he realizes the importance of another resource they price above all else, water. Spice is still economically important, but their culture places more weight on water, simply because they need it to live. Spice is abundant in their desert, water isn’t. To the family from the water-rich lands of Caladan, this is a surprise. But that change in priority was executed very well.

Dune: Messiah was my favourite of the first three books. It is Paul’s examination of his guilt (probably white guilt) and the moral toll it takes on someone to manipulate a populace into peace. It was Herbert’s most touching, philosophical work. We see so many kings and rulers in literature proud of what they accomplish, but Paul is unique in that he sees the double-edged sword of his victory and all the pain that it has brought. At the height of his success, he begins having doubts about the manner in which he gained this position. His reign is marred with the blood of billions who died in the name of the religion he created. How he deals with his guilt and the various conspiracies raging around him form the plot of this book.

Children of Dune is the third book in the Dune series. We are at yet another pivotal time in Arrakeen history. Book 1 focused on Atreides’ slow takeover. Dune: Messiah focused on Paul’s inner conflicts and his guilt, which inevitably led to him abdicating and now we are at another crossroads moment with Alia’s (Paul’s sister) tyrannical rule and her inner ghosts seeking ruination. The book is about the events that lead to the next successor. Paul and Chani’s (his concubine) twins, Leto the Second and Ghanima, are mature enough to take over from their aunt who is no longer herself. There were certain aspects of the book I didn’t necessarily appreciate. For one, both Leto and Ghanima have access to all their ancestors lives. As does Alia. While we do see the kids interact with their parents and Alia interact with Baron Harkonnen, I was hoping to see them use their powers to more advantage. I guess, because I had already seen these powers in books prior, I was expecting more. Secondly, it did get a bit annoying when the kids kept boasting about their past lives. Every third sentence would be about how they were pre-born and shouldn’t be underestimated because they are ten. It especially falls flat, when their ancestors’ lives have little to do with the overall plot (barring one or two instances).

Children of Dune is more action-oriented and riddled with conspiracies and kidnapping plots than its predecessors. The much-loved philosophy is present too, but in small and very obvious ways. I was delighted to see Paul again as the Preacher. He lives to see the chaos that ensues in the kingdom he built. He lives to see people pray and mourn for him, yet twist his words in the name of religion. He lives to see his biggest failure. These three books could form their own trilogy and be a perfect examination of how kings rise and fall and how ideologies change through the course of history. The only other peer to Paul’s character, executed just as well, is Michael Corleone from The Godfather series. The way Corleone dies all alone with nothing around him, despite the power and wealth he amassed over a lifetime is eerily similar to Paul’s own tragic life. Frank Herbert’s characters are usually two-dimensional and fall flat, but Paul’s character arc is executed incredibly well. Maybe because his character arc is the one truly intertwined with the plot, or maybe because Herbert just loved him; either way, Dune is Paul’s story from Little Mouse to Grand Emporer to Mad Preacher.

The political parallels of this series to the real world are as astonishing as they are accurate. His ability to showcase how history is actually made and how easily it can be changed during these pivotal moments is what makes these books worth reading. One striking example stood out to me. The Bene Gesserit uses religion and rumour to stabilise their hold over the kings and naibs alike, similar to RSS in India. There are surface level differences, but the Bene Gesserit is the fulcrum balancing both religion and politics for their own shadier goals. Jessica always rules from the shadows, influencing decisions unofficially and molding leaders through the Bene Gesserit teachings. In today’s geopolitical world, religion seems to be playing a vital role and not just in India. This isn’t the first time in history or the last time; clearly Herbert was inspired by history. After all, most of Paul’s teaching are derived from Islam. In such ways, the books combines various concepts of history, religion and politics to paint a picture of a tyrannical rule, promising peace for thousands of years, but chaos in the present day.

An aspect I disliked was the way the female characters were written. Specifically, there is one conversation between Irulan, Alia and Ghanima in Children of Dune. I have never read a more frustrating set of dialogues than in that specific chapter. True to form, Ghanima makes a huge deal about being pre-born, Alia makes a huge show about not being under the Baron’s control and Irulan looks confused between the two. The entire chapter felt unlike any conversation that would actually occur amongst these three women. It was annoying and grating and added nothing to further the plot.

Similarly, Ghanima has no role other than to pretend her brother is dead. And then she marries him, despite both of them being against it in the beginning. What even? Why? They are not just siblings, they are twins. Writing women as meaningful characters is not Frank Herbert’s strength. The only woman with some modicum of power in the books is Jessica and even she is relegated to the sidelines in this book. The movie did a better job by giving equal weightage to both Jessica and Paul. (After all, Jessica played a crucial role in the first book.) But she never leads from the front, choosing to influence events from the sidelines, through her pseudo-religious cult or through her kids, grandkids and other mentees.

In all fairness to Frank Herbert though, his male characters aren’t much better written either as they too tend to feel two-dimensional and straightforward. Writing characters with complexity is not his strong suit. Showcasing the elaborate political network and the various influences on it, such as religion, economy and the monopoly of one particular element responsible for 90% of the world’s travel needs, is where his talent truly lies. But better characterization instead of these pseudo-intellectual characters talking at great length about themselves, while doing nothing, would have elevated this series from good to great. At the end of the day, when we read fiction, it’s not for philosophy or history, but to feel connected with the characters. In creating such mundane, repetitive characters he looses a major part of the story. This flaw is obvious in Book 3. Books 1 and 2 still had substantial character development, but with book 3, it is painfully obvious that no serious thought was given to the characters.

This is also obvious in how characters that die or leave, eventually comeback. Duncan Idaho comes back from the dead. Paul returns as the Preacher. The Baron is also back. So far, the only death of permanence was Leto’s death. If he actually put the same effort that he invested researching obscure Islamic names into his character work, he need not have revived so many characters.

Speaking of Islamic names, in Children of Dune, it often felt as if he was introducing these concepts and their terminology as and when it was required for some dialogue or per plot convenience. It would have had more weightage if it was introduced at the starting of the series or the book, or in any other organic manner. This just confuses the reader and makes them wonder if they slept through the first time it was mentioned. Not to mention that Children of Dune is better than Benedryl at putting people to sleep. If I had to say, this was probably the weakest book I’ve read in this series so far. The character work was abysmal, the plot was contrived and even the philosophy seemed a bit too highbrow. The only highlight was seeing Paul’s story end.

One also wonders if the author being white had any impact on his storytelling. The excessive use of Islamic concepts and terminology to denote Fremen culture could be right or wrong. At times, it feels as if he wants to show their culture as, as severe and unwavering as the desert, yet I wonder if their culture truly is that cutthroat. In Children of Dune, this changes a bit when the next generations of the Fremen growing up in water-richness are more joyous. Is it truly possible for every member of a tribe to be exactly the same way? Headstrong, proud, bordering on arrogant with survival being their only goal. This reiterates my point about the lack of character work. Regardless, the Islamic concepts used remove any doubt from the reader’s mind that the story is about oil.

As a series, Dune will remain a landmark novel in English sci-fi literature, mainly because of its ambitious nature. Whether or not it succeeded in its lofty ambitions is another question, but it set the benchmarks for other authors. Its commentary on our quest for oil, money and peace is refreshing. Peace in our time as Tony Stark said. This series may be a tad slow, if not too philosophical for its own good, but by reading it one realizes the impact it had on sci-fi movies, books and the shows that followed. His attempt at including various factors like religion, economy and even ecology (to some extent) to understand politics is ambitious and worth praise. But the balance between the historical research and character work is lacking, which makes it a hard read. To a large extent, the first movie did a better job at explaining these concepts and at establishing characters. Currently, the movies are set to conclude with the events of Dune: Messiah, which seems like a logical stepping off point for Paul’s character. Denis’ storytelling and character work is an improvement on Herbert’s and cinema truly lends itself to Herbert’s grand vision of telling a universal geopolitical story.