LabKitty reads Dune

A gazillion years in the future, people have spread throughout the galaxy (if we remember correctly, they're supposed to be humans, but no matter). This accomplishment has been largely made possible by the Spice, a psychoactive substance that allows users to "fold space" (although you need to be in a spaceship of some sort when said folding is going down) thereby "moving without going anywhere." Long-term spice use has beneficial side effects, like prolonging life, and contraindications, like mutating you into a worm thingy. The latter is probably in rather small print on the package and magazine ad.

More to the plot, however, is that Spice can't be manufactured or synthesized, and is only found on one planet: Dune. This creates problems. The first problem is the harvesting. Dune, as the name implies, is a harsh desert world. Additionally, the Spice is, well, sandworm poop. And not just any sandworm, but big honkin' anger sandworms. Mining operations attract the giant sandworms, which then come and crush the bejezus out of your equipment and swallow your workers. This tends to come up in labor talks.

The other problem, what with Spice being so valuable and found only on one planet, is that folks have been slaughtering each other for millennia to control Dune. Not to mention oppressing the indigenous population, which is more of a problem than you might imagine because the indigenous population of Dune are the Fremen, a tough-as-nails desert folk who have no interest in space travel and palace intrigue and basically just want to be left the hell alone so they can worship their worms (not as naughty as it sounds). From time to time the Fremen and the ruling house de jour on Dune go at it with predictable results. The symbolism of a tough indigenous desert people protecting a rare and valuable natural resource from technologically-superior outsiders we shall leave to the reader.

Enter Paul Atredes. Favorite son of the royal and noble Atredes family, who are about to assume control of Dune for their turn to mine Spice and duke it out with the Fremen (in true Space Opera fashion, Space Governments in the Dune universe are organized as Space Monarchies). Alas (there is always an "alas"), palace intrigue ensues and the royal and unpleasant Harkonnens - mortal enemies of the Atredes with bad attitudes and worse grooming habits - wind up with the place instead.

Paul flees to the desert with his mother Jessica, member of the Bene Gesserit, a mysterious witch-coven/PAC who for centuries have been trying to breed someone who can drink the Waters of Something - which we sincerely hope isn't worm pee but probably is - without dying. Paul and Jessica bump into the Fremen, and some worms, and some Waters of Something, which Paul drinks. It doesn't kill him, but rather, like Crystal Gale, turns his brown eyes blue. This means he is not Paul but rather Maud'Dib, legendary Fremen messiah come to rid Dune of Fremen enemies both foreign and domestic.

Jessica also gets into the Waters of Something, which doesn't kill her either but does make her squirt out a baby, Paul's weird little sister Alia. Spice girl isn't given much to do until the sequels, so here Alia just stands around and creeps people out (yes we said "stands" - eat Spice while pregnant and your baby is born with hair, teeth, and talking (like Merlin!), not to mention glowing blue eyes - a sort of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome in reverse).

Now we're in the home stretch. In true Lawrence of Arabia fashion, Paul nee Maud'Dib wins over the Fremen, and the sandworms, which they all learn to ride, and storm the palace and clobber the Harkonnens. The baddies routed, it begins to rain, for some reason, and with Dune thus tamed everyone looks for work and Paul divvies up the planet into reasonable lots to build comfortable Cape Cods. Roll credits.

Dune was revolutionary when published in 1965. Science fiction back then was mostly muscly squared-jawed guys saving space babes and punching villains with mustachios. Dune had its own terminology (it came with a glossary for Cat's sake!), dense politics, competing systems of religion, a running thread of ecological science, and the full story plays out over thousands of years (see below). Herbert's writing is mercifully sexless - perhaps "tastefully innuendoed" would be a better description (as a rule, anytime a science fiction author gets frisky, prepare to cringe). And if all the intrigue went over your head reading it for the first time in Mrs. Wintermeyer's seventh grade English class, there were giant ravenous sandworms and space ships and knife fights.

Dune won all sorts of awards, including the Hugo and the very first Nebula, In fact, about the only award it hasn't won is a Browlfy (sorry, Dune dudes. Non-fiction only). And it sold a gazillion copies. In this day of reality teevee, warmed-over zombie hash, and saccharine vampire fluff, its odd to think there was a time when writing a story about space politics laced with complex ecological and religious overtones could make you rich.

Grade: A

Dune works as a stand-alone novel, but Herbert intended the story as a trilogy (Dune, Dune Messiah, Children of Dune). There's also a second trilogy (God Emperor of Dune, Heretics of Dune, Chapterhouse: Dune) set thousands of years in the future. Events in the first sequels take place a dozen years after those of the first book. Paul is all-powerful, but now more legend than man, and the name of Maud'Dib is used by his followers to justify war and atrocities across the galaxy. The theme of the novel is one of lost control, with Paul's good intentions now being twisted by others for their own purposes. Paul, Paul's sister Alia, his Fremen wife (concubine, technically) Chani, his children Leto and Ghanima, and just about everyone else comes to a bad end. Also, remember how Paul made it rain on Dune at the end of the first book? The rain kills all the sandworms. Goodbye spice (oops).

CORRIGENDUM: We may be misremembering this. It rains in the Dune movie, but in the book Paul merely threatens to destroy the Spice (which is what ultimately gives him control of the planet). However, a major subplot in the book is a Fremen plan to alter Dune's desert climate using large reservoirs of water they have collected over the centuries. Then they get testy when Paul does exactly that in the sequels and it kills the sandworms. There's just no pleasing some people.

Brian Herbert (Frank's son) and Kevin Anderson co-wrote additional sequels and a number of prequels to the events of the original six Dune books. We have not read them, but folks seem happy to say unkind things about them (yikes, people - they're just BOOKS. If you don't like them, don't read them). We'll give you Amazon linkys below, and you can read the reviews or, better yet, read the first couple of pages in the Amazon preview and see if the story grabs you.

Lastly, there are Herbert fans who swear that Dune is garbage, believe it or not, and say if you really want to see Herbert at his best you need to read his earlier works, especially Whipping Star. We have no opinion on this.

There's been two film adaptations of Dune: David Lynch's feature film and a miniseries on SciFye (or however they're spelling themselves these days). The contrast between the two is striking, with Lynch's adaptation a raging yang to SiFi's more reasoned yin (or, as Elvis Costello put it: the words of love in whispers, and the acts in blood and screams).

Much as we love David Lynch, his adaptation was, well, odd. Gorgeous, but odd. Not surprisingly, it doesn't generate much meh; people either love it or hate it. We won't come down hard pro or con here, but we will say this: just when you think it can't get any weirder, it just keeps getting weirder. This may not have been entirely Lynch's doing, as the film had a famously tortuous development history with as much intrigue as the story itself. It's just... GAAAHH! WHAT THE HECK WAS WITH THE SHOUTY GUNS??!?!?!

Deep breaths.

Reviews of the SyFy miniseries (and a sequel, based on events in Messiah and Children) are mixed, and they certainly don't seem to get much nerd love. They feature some big name actors (William Hurt, Susan Sarandon, Alice Krieg) and the whole thing is pretty enough, even with what must have been a tight budget for something so ambitious. And the worms are bitchin'. Why no love?

We like them, the two miniseries, but here's what we think stops them from Being Great (not that anyone cares). The key to Dune isn't the sets or the special effects or the actors or the action or the script or the soundtrack; it's the dialog. Herbert's dialog is Out There, and if your actors don't sell it, nothing else matters.

We're not saying it's easy. "Fear is the mind killer." "He IS the Haroot-Shaka-laka." "Move carefully or the worm will come." Heck, Ian McKellen would have a tough time selling these lines. However, Peter Jackson got Ian McKellen to sell Tolkien's dialog, which is just about as silly in places. You need to sell Herbert's.

And prescient we are, as rumor has it there is a new big-screen adaptation of Dune in the works (it will be interesting to see how they handle the Arabic gestalt of the Fremen in the current political climate). Make sure you get the dialog right, O barons of multi-million dollar nerd entertainment (who obviously hang on LabKitty's every missive). Oh, and no silly hats. And think long and hard before you give anyone a face tattoo. And send the actors playing your badasses off to badass boot camp for a couple of months so the fight scenes don't look like something from the end of Bowfinger.

There ya go. Our gift to you, No charge.

Footnote: The first Dune miniseries isn't available on Netflix. Hey! Netflix! The Spice must flow, if you catch our drift.

Image of dust jacket from the original 1965 release of Dune and Dune promotional movie poster appear under fair use according to United States Copyright law as they serve to illustrate an article discussing the original work and do not in a reasonable person's mind constitute an infringement of the owner's rights to receive compensation for the copyrighted work. Photo of the Statue of Lady Justice by John Massey Rhind and appears under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License.

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