The Machiavellian Messiah: This isn't Jesus Christ we're talking about.
Written: Oct 13 '03 (Updated Sep 02 '08)
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Product Rating:
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Pros: I won't say it's the best science fiction novel. But . . .
Cons: Some small, infrequent clumsiness in writing style.
The Bottom Line: One of the five novels I'd be most likely to recommend to someone for their first science fiction experience.
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| panguitch's Full Review: Dune Books |
Frank Herbert’s Dune revolves around the messiah theme. But Paul Muad’Dib, the messiah of Dune, hardly fits the conception of the word so many of us have. Put simply, Muad’Dib is no Jesus Christ. His mother is not a virgin, but a concubine. His father not a god, but a duke doomed by political intrigues. Rather than healing the sick, walking on water, multiplying loaves and fishes or raising the dead, Muad’Dib’s supernatural powers are limited to a drug-induced awareness wherein he can calculate the future. Like a chess master foreseeing moves. And rather than altruism and faith, this power lends itself best to plotting and conquest. Compare "turn the other cheek" to "I can kill you with a word." "I am the resurrection and the life" to "all things move toward death." Christ, who healed the high priest’s servant’s ear when Peter struck it off, to Muad-Dib, who "ordered battle drums made from his enemies’ skins." In this view, Muad’Dib fills only the loosest meanings of messiah. Yet, it could be said that Herbert fashioned a character more strictly messianic than Christ himself. Two thousand years ago, why didn’t more Jews accept Christ as the Messiah? Too often, Christian answers to the question are rooted in bigotry. The informed Christian knows what every Jew knows: Christ was not the Messiah the Jews were waiting for. Those who accepted him as the Messiah could do so only after redefining the word for themselves. The principle difference? The Jewish conception of Messiah includes a political, even martial, component. Muad’Dib as messiah carries this difference even farther. Whereas the Jewish conception of Messiah is balanced, Muad’Dib tilts to the opposite extreme that Christ does. For him spirituality is secondary, almost a sham. The drive is for jihad, for liberating his people. For conquering the universe. For vengeance. Who is Paul Muad’Dib, and what places him on the bloody path he forges? Plans Within Plans Within Plans Dune is an exposition-heavy novel. But not in the way that turns off so many to science fiction. Gadgets and physics are not being explained. Machinations are. Schemes. Plots. Betrayals. Paul Atreides (later renamed Muad’Dib) is the heir to Duke Leto Atreides, who holds the planet Caladan in fief to the Emperor Shaddam IV. The Atreides for generations have been engaged in ritualistic vendetta with the Harkonnens. More recently, Duke Leto has been gaining popularity among the other great houses, and the Emperor is feeling threatened. The ambitious Baron Harkonnen has a plan to solve both his and the Emperor’s problems. The Harkonnens hold the desert planet Arrakis in fief. It is the most important world in the universe, sole source of the spice, the natural resource that fuels all interstellar transportation (which is conducted by the Spacing Guild). If the Emperor revokes their fief, and offers Arrakis to the Atreides, they could not refuse such a prize even if they suspected the trap. At the appointed time, the Harkonnens would return in force, accompanied by disguised imperial troops, and destroy the Atreides. Meanwhile, the Bene Gesserit, a quasi-religious female order, is nearing the completion of its millennia-long human breeding experiment. Their objective has been to create a male Bene Gesserit, a supreme being. One of their order, Jessica, was to bear Duke Leto a daughter who could be wed to the Harkonnen heir. Instead, for love of her Duke she bore a son, Paul, who just might be this supreme being. Now the attention of all these parties, the Emperor, the Harkonnens, the Spacing Guild and the Bene Gesserit, are focused on Arrakis. But when the fall of House Atreides comes, Paul and his mother are lost in the confusion. In the deep desert they find refuge among the Fremen, the overlooked natives of Arrakis. The culture of these ferocious people is fundamentally religious, mystical even. Paul finds himself wrapped up in their cherished prophecies of a messiah who will lead them to reclaim Arrakis as their own. What’s more, as he experiences increasing exposure to the spice he finds his consciousness transforming. He is, in fact, becoming the supreme being. With his growing ability to see the future, he knows that his messianic role may lead to a bloody jihad that overflows Arrakis to engulf the entire human race. And he knows that there is no other choice. Frank Herbert Herbert was a naturalist, and the Fremen struggle to transform their planet from a desert to a garden reflects his keen ecological awareness. He was a photographer, and his eye for the images in Dune is sharp, his posing of characters, scenes, and events dramatic. He was a poet, and his word choices are deliberate. He was writing in the sixties, and his (tame) portrayals of orgies and of heightened consciousness produced by drugs are of that era. He was a survivalist, and his harsh settings are authentic. He was a journalist, and that’s unfortunate. Too much of journalism is more like business writing than like literature. More like a memo than a story. If I had to name flaws in Dune, they would be these: • Herbert relies too much on interior monologues. Monologue might not be the right word. These are usually just snippets of thought, written out in italics. • The point of view is too slippery. While it follows the standard third person, limited omniscience, it too frequently slips from one character’s perspective to another. Even within the same page. • Herbert latches on to catchphrases. For example, it seems no more than ten pages can go by without referring to Paul’s sense of "terrible purpose." This quibbles are minor, indeed. And while they may seem unrelated, I link them to journalism because they are motivated by the desire for concision and impact. But in a novel, an author can indulge in more artful ways of presenting characters’ thoughts and perspectives. More subtle ways of repeating motifs. On the whole, Dune is wonderfully written. Herbert explores a menagerie of themes with intelligence. His insights are worth taking away from the novel, his maxims always quotable. His array of characters run the gamut from imperials to desert guerillas, from trade magnates to smugglers, from priestesses to witches. Born into a rich context, they gain depths and emotions through careful cultivation. Motivations are the key to their characterizations. They all face hard choices, and each meets them with hard pragmatism. These characters, as much as Herbert’s themes, make the book true to our reality. Just how true we may discover as the Middle East continues to dominate world attention. Recommendation Dune was the first SF novel ever to win both the Nebula and the Hugo. In fact, it won the first Nebula period. It was one of the first genre novels to receive the CliffsNotes treatment, and often finds itself rubbing shoulders with Brave New World, 1984, and Fahrenheit 451 in the English Department. It’s still thought of as the premier epic SF novel. Some even consider it the Lord of the Rings of science fiction. And it is true that few SF novelists have succeeded in so fully realizing a universe. Herbert’s characters are believable, their situations perilous. There is excitement here, action. But always thought. Reflection on ecology, religion, politics, anthropology and economics. Herbert was the rare author who had something interesting to say about everything, and the story ideas good enough to tie it all together. I say Dune is one of the five novels I’d be most likely to recommend to someone as an introduction to SF. I stand by that because of the scale and force of the novel and its ideas. I’d recommend it to someone who likes big stories and big ideas. The other four? • Walter M. Miller Jr.’s A Canticle for Leibowitz, a post-apocalyptic novel for someone who likes deep thinking and is a sucker for religious themes (like me). • Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle’s The Mote in God’s Eye, a great story of first contact with an alien race, for someone who wants excitement and suspense. • Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game, a character-driven novel about children forced to make terrible choices, for anyone who enjoys excellent writing. • David Brin’s Startide Rising, a thriller in the form of an (underwater) space opera, for a fast paced read where you know who you’re rooting for but the tension and surprises come hot and heavy. Science Fiction is one of the most fertile fields of contemporary literature. If you haven’t yet, you owe it to yourself to read the original "big book" of the genre. Spend some time with Dune. -Panguitch Herbert’s novel has twice been adapted for film: David Lynch’s 1984 film: http://www.epinions.com/content_104991067780 John Harrison’s 2000 mini-series: http://www.epinions.com/content_112186396292 Herbert also wrote five sequels, beginning with Dune Messiah. They are all good, but none match Dune itself. Frank’s son, Brian, has more recently been writing a series of prequels.
Recommended:
Yes
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About Me: "Realism is quite incapable of describing the complexity of contemporary experience." -Ursula K. Le Guin
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