Dune: The Greatest Science Fiction Novel ... Of All Time?

One of the greatest works of science fiction of all time? Dune by Frank Herbert. Let’s talk about it.

Science fiction has never been a blip on my radar. Whether my book selections come from the series of people who I spend time with or the internet, the cult classics of the genre rarely enter my realm of awareness for long enough to catch my interest--that was until my dear friend sent me the book so that it would be impossible for me to ignore, but I still had my doubts.

Frank Herbert’s Dune is considered one of the seminal works of science fiction that set the bar for world building, themes of independence and self-determination, and the use of intergalactic rulership which produced the genre. Herbert’s novel is acclaimed for being the cornerstone of the modern genre, which has been defined to explore the impact of imaginative scientific elements on fictitious societies. Upon my friend’s recommendation, I concede that the story is a tremendous feat of developing a highly complex and interesting world with commentary on the opportunities and risks of modern development and worldbuilding, but believe that perhaps Dune has some growing up to do to fit with modern standards.

For those of you who have yet to encounter the intense world of Arrakis, our central character, Paul is the son of the Duke Leto of Arrakis and his consort, Jessica, a Bene Gesserit witch--Essentially she’s part of a sisterhood of navy seal level women who train their minds and bodies to be superhuman, which can be a very scary thing to many men in the story. Paul, however, is fated to be the Kwisatz Haderach, or a male version of the Bene Gesserit, able to look into a black spot that bridges space and time which none other are able to see. Paul begins experiencing visions which ultimately allow him to decide the fate of the planet Arrakis based on his decisions.

Dune is a highly interesting story simply because of the complexity of the characters, their arcs, politics and the drama that struggles with different aims and moral compasses. Conceptually, Dune is incredible. The story is so highly original that the people and concept become extremely real to the reader. Herbert is extremely detail oriented, so the elements of character, economics and science are all well-balanced in their summation to produce a galactic planet. Pro tip for anyone looking to read Dune: flip through and absorb the appendix before starting the novel, so you’re familiar with the terms of the story.

Something interesting about Dune is the construction of the theme. Much of the novel is easily understood because of its simplicity in storyline and character. The writing is black and white, with little to be interpreted from the parties at play. However, several small nuances are written into the perspectives of each class and party. In Arrakis, there is a tremendous struggle between the want for independence and oppression. Three main groups are at play: the Fremen, Paul Atriedes (the Muad’Dib), and the Imperium, led by an army of Sardaukar warriors who are looking to gain control over the spice trade (where Arrakis is the main production hub).

Feel free top jump around the main Dune themes at liberty: (Spoilers ahead)

• Fremen Independence

• Gender

• Water Break

• Mind Domination/Bene Gesserit Religion

• Paul and the Gall

Fremen Independence

Like any good story, the Fremen represent independence and freedom. The Fremen, literally sounding like free men, are a group of independent warrior people who are looking to live freely in the desert. Since the advent of the story it is clear how highly misunderstood these peoples are. Paul interprets them to be outsiders with his realm of understanding only being constantly reinforced by those around him. It isn’t until he realizes that the Fremen are the key to protecting his planet and ultimately Dukedom that he looks to make peaceful relations with them. Even with this late realization, Paul stands slightly apart from other leaders of Atreides--even his father---who had been unable to bridge the gap of difference between their people. Several members of Atreides court also are cognizant of the will of the Fremen and seemingly respect it.

People on the fringes of Atreides court better understand the feudal state of Arrakis and can straddle the line of understanding the oppressed. Gurney, a sword master, described at one point that he had to respect the possibility that there were Fremen here and he was trespassing. Fremen worried about him, their toughness and unpredictability. Many things about this business worried him, but the rewards were too great,” (518). At this crossroads lies the heart of the challenge presented in Dune. The Arrakis people live in a world where profit comes from spice, a hallucinogenic drug that is in pretty much everything, and the control over water, which has been highly available to the Artiedes court. On the outside, the Fremen survive on their own innovation which has been forged from their ability to adapt to the harsh environment--something that the Atreides are less able to do because of the inability to listen to reason and science and their reliance on the plight of others for their comfort.

Oppression and enslavement are central to the unification of Paul Atreides and the Fremen against a common enemy--the Imperium and its military force of Sardaukar warriors who intend to turn Arrakis into a prison planet for the mining of the spice. Paul is only able to unite these fiercely independent groups--Fremen, smugglers, a Bene Gesseret, and his old royal crew--under the understanding that another group might eliminate all semblances of freedom for each of them. “They’ve built up a fever of hate among people who otherwise would’ve looked on the coming battle as no more than a great inconvenience… and the possibility of exchanging one set of masters for another. The Sardaukar recruited for us, Stilgar,” (570).

However, several of the servants existing on lower rungs of the feudal structure represent different perspectives on how oppression might feel on each of the rings, suggesting more appropriate visions of Arrakis’ social hierarchy and each person’s conflicting dreams for the planet. At the top we have the leaders who believe that “the day hums sweetly when you have enough bees working for you,” (224). This is something I like to think of as an oppressor mindset. Several groups attempt to advise this mentality by arguing that a more intellectual concept is necessary to inform social structure, saying “the concept of progress acts as a protective mechanism to shield us from the terrors of the future” (408). People like Kynes represent their own hopes for the planet. It is clear that they have been informed by a greater awareness of the struggle happening outside of the planet. An imperial Planetologist, Kynes is the highly informed mind of reason who challenges himself to believe that Paul as a leader might represent his opinion, ““Am I foolish to aid these fugitives? Why am I doing it? It’d be so easy to take them now, to buy the Harkonnen trust with them… ‘To make this planet a fit place for humans,’ Paul said. Perhaps that’s why I help them, Kynes thought'' (280).

It takes a lot for Paul to realize his role in leadership and the style of oppression that he will replicate. He is more informed by the members of lower classes, however, representing some willingness to better understand. Thufir Hawat, the Mentat master of assassins who has served the Atreides line for many generations advises that “Oppression is a relative thing,’ Hawat said. ‘Your fighting men are so much better off than those around them, heh? They see an unpleasant alternative to being soldiers of the Baron, hehe?’... ‘I’d remove them from their oppressive situation and isolate them,” (475).

It becomes quickly clear how Paul is able to understand the plight of many people in their realm only when his safety is toppled by the threat of the Imperium attacking from within. He needs to face the same oppression as the people that his legacy has been harming to understand what his rulership could mean for them. As a result, when he is forced to assimilate to Fremen culture for survival, he begins to understand the importance of collectivism and the power of their religion, which he has feared for so long. “When religion and politics travel in the same cart, the riders believe nothing can stand in their way,” a teaching, which is essential for the maintenance of his dukedom over Arrakis (483).

Gender

Dune was interesting in its construction, because gender foundationally to the story is central to understanding large elements of the conflict. The Bene Gesserit have constructed an entire planet of selective breeding according to class and ability. However, Paul’s realization and pushback against his mother for his creation of being essentially the chosen one is interesting. With his ability to see into the future and the past developing, he was essential to the fate of the world because he could see into the aforementioned black hole that was invisible to the female Bene Gesserint. He still criticizes the Bene Gesserit’s foresight into his creation and their practice of selective breeding, “you saw part of what the race needs, but how poorly you saw it. You think to control human breeding and intermix a select few according to your master plan? How little you understand,” (602).

This criticism is interesting however in the construction of how feudal society allows for men to have multiple wives. Jared and Leto never married in order to allow Leto the freedom to marry any woman who would strengthen their alliance politically, whereas Paul openly exists in a polyamorous relationship with Chani, who is the Fremen mother of his child and the princess who he agrees to form a union with for the politics of the Imperium.

Yet, reading this as a woman, I wondered if several of the nuances were possible to improve as societies evolved, or whether they were semblances of a man living on Earth in the 1960s making their way into science fiction.

Dune is a patriarchal feudal system. Leto’s preservation of Jessica as his concubine is a tricky touchpoint. Jessica frequently doubts her relationship with Leto just as he does when he fears that Jessica has broken his trust. Jessica wonders of her original situation, “Have I been infected with his schemes? And she saw how well she had been conditioned. I can think of the martial needs of royalty without once weighing my own concubinage. Yet…I was more than concubine” (393). And yet, one of Jessica’s inherent strengths is how well she is able to grasp her own femininity and command of the Voice, which coincidentally works better on men.

Yet again, however, I worry that in solidifying women into the dichotomy of gender, some of their complexity is once more lost. Women continue to exemplify the figure of being a witch for having complete control over their minds and bodies. In the palace, Jessica is responsible for the decorations of Leto’s portrait and a large bull head. When Leto, Jessica’s partner enters, he tells her “‘You must teach me someday how you do that,’ he said, ‘the way you thrust your worries aside and turn to practical matters. It must be a Bene Gesserit thing.’ ‘It’s a female thing,’ she said'' (66). In this, I wonder how even a husband who is bound by political situations is still shortsighted in his perception of his wife who has been written to hold boundless control over the minds of others and exists as a near-supernatural being. Let’s also not forget the frequent portrayal of women as temptress and seductive figures, which is frequently used in Dune.

“She saw then the pattern of the threat and understood that Halleck too, had detected they planned to lure Paul with sex. Jessica realized. Her son had probably been the first to see it” (182), or “You don’t anticipate difficulty seducing him, my little brood-mother’ ‘No, my love. You saw how he looked at me.’ ‘Yes, and I can see now why we must have that blood line,” (428). These examples demonstrate how essential it is for the men in Dune to maintain their female counterparts and their charms. Women maintain some level of power in their control over unsuspecting men, yet the only ability of women to command their way through sex is questionable.

Potentially the relationship that develops between Chani and Jessica represents an empowerment of the female form. Chani is a subservient woman at first, but through Jessica’s trust of her guidance over Paul, potentially Chani has the potential of growing into a larger advisory role. Thus far, Paul has demonstrated a willingness to protect and respect her, but I hope that there is a larger potential for her symbolism in the story, as well as the ability to become in greater charge of her station.

According to the Slate, “only about a quarter of science fiction novels are written by women;... Geek culture can be equally unwelcoming to women, as recent events have shown. a study that applies VIDA’s methodology to sci-fi and fantasy publications, and it shows pretty much what you’d expect. Of 14 publications surveyed, only one reviewed books by women more than 50 percent of the time.”

Whether or not this has any impact on Frank Herbert, Dune or otherwise, it was a huge call to action as me as a reader to consumer more science fiction, break into a genre that had previously been shielded by masculine questions and begin consuming works that have tremendous merit, just have not been revered by women. If more women were reading, would there be more female science fiction authors, and would that change how stories are told?

Water break! Let’s take a pause and gather around the water cooler for a nice break. Hmmm. Why is it empty?

Liet Kynes is the Imperial Planetologist on Arrakis--I know… that’s exactly what I want to be when I grow up too. He’s outspoken in his opinion but soft spoken in his advocacy for creating a new future for Arrakis--one where the people are not as limited by water. However, I predict that a large unwillingness for his idea’s growth is the underlying implication of wealth and the control that the dukedom holds over water means for their political stature.

Kynes is important to the story as through their Bene Gesserit training, Paul and his Mother are able to read his scientific knowledge from his inaction, “There is enough water! But Kynes doesn’t wish it to be known,” (178). Mentioned in the beginning of the book, the first novel of Dune fails to pull this thread later on. We realize that the Fremen are hoarding an immense pool of spiritual water, but outwardly, the water represents much more for the culture of people living in the harsh climate of Arrakis. “Water overshadows the other problems,’ Kynes said. ‘This planet has much oxygen without its usual concomitants,” (177).

When considering water as central to culture, survival and power, it comes as no surprise that multiple axes contribute to questions of water and the dynamics of Arrakis. Initially, we consider Duke Leto and his family as a question of class. There are levels of consumption, where the Atriedes have enough water to grow plants and drink wines grown of grapes versus the impoverished who fight for filthy drops squeezed from damp wash clothes. The latter, of which is seen as an alm provided from the ruling class. That’s not what I’d call freedom.

But this mentality is unsurprising--Especially for Paul who has been raised under the motto “Business makes progress! Fortune passes everywhere” (169). The entire system is accepted because the force that would be required to break has made it untouchable. Those at the top are entirely aware of the system as well as the oppression necessary to maintain it. Leto, the Duke of Arakkis even understands that his planet “is a one-crop planet,’ his father said. ‘One crop. It supports a ruling class that lives as ruling classes have lived in all times, while beneath them, a semi human mass of semi slaves exists on the leavings. It’s the masses and the leavings that occupy our attention. These are far more valuable than has ever been expected” (349). Right of the bat… What? This man is talking crazy talk right out of a sand worm’s booty. However, the concept of how perspectives are divided make it not that crazy. No group has been able to challenge the rulership of Arrakis, nor the systems that it has placed on society there.

Only the Fremen are united in their collective water stores and religious rituals of conserving the water of the tribe. This mindset, especially the collection of one’s water after passing, is extremely animalistic and foreign to a culture that believes that some are more deserving of survival and the benefits of water simply because of their breeding. Fremen, on the other hand, understand “this is the bond of water. We know the rites. A man’s flesh is his own; the water belongs to the tribe,” (272).

On the other hand, the Fremen in Arrakis represent the question of how, ultimately, Paul is able to defeat the common threat of the Empire. He needs to understand both the power of water and the spice as essential resources, and only the ultimate sacrifice of destroying these lifelines is able to save them. “Water, indeed, was power here. If water facilities were mined for instance, ready to be destroyed at a signal… Destruction of water facilities might well destroy Arrakis,” (165). Now, whether intentional or not, Herbert was revealing his plays at perhaps one of the most interesting and important scenes of the book: The dinner scene. He was demonstrating each of the nuances of power and leadership as well as hinting at the final destination of the first installment.

Religion

At odds between the Fremen and duchy exists the clash of rulership. The Fremen are highly organized warriors who accept only rulership among their own, while the Atreides line believe in their ownership of Arrakis without doubt or question. While the Bene Gesserits might be all-knowing, the line of male rulers seem impervious to doubt that their station and influence are anything but beneficial to the tradition of Arrakis and all of its people.

Duke Leto and his family are extremely set in their ways. As slightly demonstrated by their medial acceptance of science and willingness to protect their rulership at all costs, it comes as no surprise that any feeling or inflection toward a religion of an outlier people would be brushed off as culturally inferior without question of its possible merit. However, to the credit of the Fremen, this also means that rulership constantly underestimates their power and influence over one another. The Fremen tradition centers around freedom, determination and self-preservation, which is rooted in their cultural appreciation of the water that exists within their person and the desert in which they live. The spice tradition is also inherent to their survival, as Paul recognizes the majority of their food to be laced with the substance.

The Fremen’s collective ownership of water and special rites of their religious society are inherent protections that the Imperium misunderstands. The oppressor is entirely aware of their religion, but mistakes it for weakness saying frequently things like “I’ve told the Rabban to let them have their religion. It’ll keep them occupied,” (465). Yeah, occupied with rebellion. And yet the Imperium continues to misinterpret belief in their spirituality as weakness, failing to consider that any form of “repression makes a religion flourish” (479).

A close relationship exists between the Bene Gesserit witch tradition and that of the Fremen, as both Paul and Jessica seem to understand and invoke the rites of the Fremen traditions when they first encounter them (grossly outnumbering the Paul and Jessica two-man-show) in a desert cavern. Yet, the pause in the clearing demonstrates the power of the clashing ideology of the Bene Gesserit, which while maintaining many respects similar to the Fremen tradition, takes its own direction in perspective that makes it supersede the former.

The Bene Gesserit witches have been trained for millennia to control their minds and bodies. It exists in a training and understanding that “the mind can go either direction under stress--toward a positive or toward a negative: on or off. Think of it as a spectrum whose extremes are unconsciousness at the negative end and hyperconsciousness at the positive end. The way the mind will lean under stress is strongly influenced by training,” (333). Such training allows Jessica, and later Paul to exist in the fabric of the future, present and past simultaneously. As a result of this straddling of times, the Bene Gesserit straddle a careful boundary that is the same that separates the Fremen from other populations.

In Fremen tradition, the people follow the order of the Reverend Mother (Jessica), and their spirituality which draws them to respect their dead through ritual water collection, as well as other cultural practices designed to protect their honor and the respect of one another. On the other hand, the Imperium’s cultural practices involve treachery and dishonesty of the heart through spying, treachery and deceit. In the same way, Paul’s father Leto suffered from a great mistrust in the advent of the novel fearing both the Fremen and even his wife, Jessica for a pause. A Fremen leader described their perception of civilization and through one example described it as “the meeting between ignorance and knowledge, between brutality and culture--it begins with the dignity with which we treat our dead '' (397). Such treatment of the dead involves draining the blood of their people to reclaim the water for the tribe--a practice which is viewed by onlookers as barbarism. However, without the understanding of the experience of the many who live without access to water, or the respect and common understanding of collectivism and group rights, how could a population like the Atreides understand the people without assimilating to them?

Similarly, Jessica learns to appreciate the intersection between the culture and the achievements of the people who wield the spiritual practice for progress. When observing a large store of water on a planet where water is so scarce that even a misplaced breath is considered a life and death cost, Jessica observed the innovation of the factories of the Fremen, as well as the innovation that they were able to use to protect their own water source, partly through innovation but also through deeper respect and admiration for an otherwise unforgiving planet. “The water flowed off those walls without binding tension. She saw a profound clue to Fremen technology in the simple fact: ``They were perfectionists” (403).

While later, Paul recognizes the Fremen as the key to the restoration of his land, he also is forced to reckon with the fact that the Fremen culture has been so observant and adaptable to the planet by listening to it. He realizes perhaps not inwardly, but perceptually through his actions of the ability of the Fremen to adapt to the culture, absorbing the knowledge that comes with being a Fremen--a position, which before being forced from his place of privilege would have failed him at the thought.

“You heard my father speak of desert power,’ Paul said. ‘There it is. The surface of this planet is ours. No storm nor creature nor condition can stop us.’ Us. Gurney thought. He means the Fremen. He speaks of himself as if one of them,” (524). In his observation, Gurney, one of the men that knows Paul best, observes his identification with a culture that both he and Paul were open to understanding once forced to. Perhaps tolerance to religion and the cultural order that it brings were necessary to the unification of the planet as well as the freedom that each of these very different groups were singularly yearning for.

Paul… the Gall of that man.

Perhaps the cornerstone of Dune is its principal character, the child Paul, who speaks as an adult. Wise beyond his years and experience, it seems as if as a person, Paul has some growing to do. Wisdom, apparently, isn't everything. I looked to find his transition and character arc as evidence of his internal character and was pleasantly surprised. Being a novel from the 1960s, I was worried about Paul’s ability to confront himself simply by what the norms of characters during that time might have exhibited. However, I found Paul to be a dynamic character who definitely would have gone to therapy and worked through his traumas to become better and a healthy man.

Thinking about his father’s death early on in the novel, Paul appears unable to express his emotions in a way that allows him to cope. Immediately following the notice of his father’s passing, Paul wonders ““I loved my father, Paul thought, and knew for this truth. I should mourn him. I should feel something. But he felt nothing except: Here’s another important fact” (240). His inability to feel or show emotion is clearly troubling him. He knows that his body requires that release, or else it might continue to inwardly battle itself. Bene Gesserit training isn’t even required for this realization. “Why can’t I mourn? He wondered. He felt that every fiber of his being craved this release, but it would be denied him forever” (244). Being that he and his mother are infinitely aware of the past and the future, Paul does experience empathy somewhat when understanding his mother’s pain. And yet, even the sound of his mother sobbing for the loss of the love of her life, he sits there and “felt the emptiness within himself. I have no grief, he thought. Why? Why? He felt the inability to grieve as a terrible flaw” (245). And, as all know, the realization of one’s inability to mourn should be the first step in yielding both an emotional response as well as a healthy coping mechanism. It takes, however, a brick wall of a realization and vision to allow him to mourn. Despite this emotional blockage, I was still rooting for Paul’s character ark as we read on.

There is an arc to the honesty and growth of leadership that transforms a child playing ruler to a person fit to lead others. When Jamis challenges Paul’s mother to a duel, Paul steps up to defend her instead. When Paul’s superior swordsmanship and innate observation allows him to best his challenger, he feels remorse in the face of celebration at his killing of a Fremen, despite the challenge that was thrust upon him. He fought back in self defense, yet the Fremen failed to view it as such. “‘I wasn’t playing with him,’ Paul said. He pressed in front of his mother, straightening his robe, glanced at the dark place of Jamis’ blood on the cavern floor. ‘I did not want to kill him,’” (388). Paul experiences somewhat of a redemption arc for his character, rising through the ranks of the Fremen on his own merit until he is able to inform the decisions and traditions as an assimilated Fremen himself. He is redeemed by his choice to rewrite tradition and allow Stilgar to live, under the guise that his expertise was too valuable to be lost by a squabble for rulership.

Paul sets himself apart from the others in the story in his ability to absorb the stimuli of his environment and thus inform his decisions as a ruler should. He separates from Jessica in his doubt of her as he watches her action. In addition, he is self-questioning in respect to his position and awareness of it. When one of his closest friends turns to address him as Duke, Paul questions himself, thinking “I have seen a friend become a worshiper,” suggesting some level of insecurity in blindly accepting the status and position other than duty (592).

On the other hand, Paul’s mother entirely contrasts his experience. The pair are the only comparable members of Dune in power and status. Despite being a concubine, Jessica and Paul both represent deviations from the norm--a breaking of tradition of breeding that has produced the once in a lifetime combination.

In finding her own power in the Motherhood, it seems as though Jessica learns to forget a son that originally she would have died to protect. Cue the trauma for Paul!

The dichotomy comes to a head following the attack waged by the Fremen to gain control of the Duke’s residence. While standing in a great hall, Paul and Jessica are joined by Paul’s wife, Chani who is mourning the loss of their son, their court and the assembly of their enemies. While Jessica stands in front of Paul, she “looked down at him. She saw his fatigue and how he hid it, but found no compassion for him. It was as though she had been rendered incapable of any emotion for her son,” (593). Through shortcomings of character, shortsightedness or simply a cruelty in her, Jessica has become entirely hardened to the thoughts and mind of her child, who at one time she would have died to protect.

In the same moment, Paul’s personality entirely contrasts that of his mother: Paul has developed an empathy and sense of responsibility to the people who have extended care towards him. “Holding himself under stiff control, Paul got to his feet. He reached out, touched Chani’s cheek, feeling the dampness of her tears. ‘He cannot be replaced,’ Paul said, ‘but there will be other sons…Gently he moved her aside” (595). Respecting the intimate loss that only he and Chani could relate directly to, Paul is able to take control of the situation to protect the family that he adopted out of responsibility. The comfort that he extends toward Chani, I believe, is something that we would have never seen at the advent of the novel. He seemed to lack empathy even towards himself, which would have made him a shortsighted leader.

On the other hand, Paul is able to channel the pain and unavoidable trauma of his experiences and gain emotional intelligence. When faced with the man who has opposed and fought Paul and the Fremen at every corner, he feels “A deep compassion for the Count flowed through Paul, the first sense of brotherhood he’d ever experienced,” (614). This change is nothing that we could have expected as it represents somewhat of a leadership arc for Paul. Despite having all of the knowledge of the lines before and after him, Paul is able to draw a parallel to empathy and compassion that make him truly a great strategic and personal leader. He is able to draw upon his duty as responsibility rather than passive action thrust upon him.

My Takeaways

As a standalone novel, Dune was a good read. The plot was carried by the action that was constantly feeling into a positive feedback loop that moved the story along. It was a quick six hundred pages for that very reason. On the other hand, I would have liked to see a slight incorporation of a greater theme, apart from the outward speech and internal realization of the character. The author, I felt, left little to interpretation in the change and growth of characters. Not to say that they were static, however.

I think modern interpretations of Dune, as well as the upcoming movie will have much to do to unpack the complexity of the story that is Arrakis and the future king. I’m looking forward to watching the film of a classic of science fiction. For any reader out there--definitely a must read. It’s a fantastic first step to entering a genre that might be unknown, as it helps contextualize many of the pinnacles of what make science fiction great. As a genre and head of the table of the media, Frank Herbert’s Dune is an example of storytelling done right in the complexity and breath that it breathes into the lessons learned from a new galactic planet and people. Certainly a lesson learned.

And a note for my female readers… If you are unimpressed with the triviality of some science fiction that you read, perhaps it’s a call to action to write your own. Stephen King once said in his novel On Writing that if you read something and believe that you can do better than that, confidence is what pushes you into the arena. Take this as your push into the deep end if you feel this way.