Book Review: Dune by Frank Herbert (1965)

One day far into the future, Duke Leto Atreides, his wife Lady Jessica, and their fifteen-year-old son Paul arrive on the planet Arrakis, also known as Dune: a land of spice-laden sands, giant sandworms snaking underground, and starry night skies. As the House Atreides, the three of them have arrived to henceforth inhabit the parched, hostile planet. Yet carefully watching them from another planet are the Harkonnens, members of a malicious house seeking to assassinate Paul and kill off the entire House Atreides for their profit. By the time the Houes Atreides and their men enter their castle on Arrakis, the Harkonnen-planted traitor in their midst has already begun to make a move.

Through Dune, Frank Herbert has created one of the most lifelike, extensive worlds in science fiction. Through the Fremen—hardy, disciplined, rough yet devoted natives of Dune, blue-eyed and clad in stillsuits—through the prophecies, myths, and religion of Dune, through the array of technology from helicopters to crysknives, the planet comes to life. Each chapter begins with an excerpt of some historical record that reaches back into the history of the planet, further enriching this world. Complete with a galaxy at the core of which is melange, an addictive spice found only on Arrakis, Dune is a portal to another vivid world as well as a work of fiction.

Meanwhile, Herbert lays the foundation of Dune with a classic superhero plot: an intelligent and determined youth is faced with tragedy. Through years of struggle and determination, the youth grows into a powerful human to defeat the enemy that once broke apart his family. Following Paul Atreides’ rise to power, Herbert sensitively describes Paul’s acute senses and his growing reach into a deeper level of consciousness. It is a psychic power that will be what makes him an unprecedented leader. Herbert also takes the time to shift the spotlight from Paul to the people around him. The psychic intelligence of Paul’s own mother, Jessica. The House Atreides’ devoted fighting man, Gurney Halleck. The Fremen girl from Paul’s dreams, Chani.

Considering this classic outline and crafting of Dune, it was rather jarring to read the ending. Herbert ends Dune on an abrupt and bitter note. Aside from the supposed triumph of Paul’s side reaping victory, there’s now a quality in Paul that somewhat resembles a cruel, controlling dictator. In the final lines of the book, Paul’s mother whispers to Paul’s lover, Chani, “We, Chani, we who carry the name of concubine—history will call us wives.” It is a line that alludes to the history of women bound to the Duke of a House as concubines, being loved by her husband yet having no royal title. It may tie back to one of the book’s earlier scenes between Duke Leto and Lady Jessica, but it felt like a strange and irrelevant way to end this otherwise masterful tale.

As mystifying as it was complex, Dune was a wise and thought-provoking work: it had an unconventional way of shifting between perspectives of multiple characters and an ending that would make many readers, including myself, raise their eyebrows. Perhaps Herbert meant to subtly question the archetype of most novels, in which the main character manages to defeat the enemy and remains good. Is that realistic? Is that what happens in real life? What happens to the people who have been with the main character since the beginning? Are they simply left in their own dust? Simultaneously glorifying human intelligence and challenging the idea of human virtue, Herbert’s Dune remains one of the world’s most bestselling science fiction novels and a great literary phenomenon.