I made occasion to re-read Frank Herbert’s Dune again, for what I think was the third time, in anticipation of the Villenueve film. I attempted it once in high school, found it dense and inscrutable, but then read it again in college. I stayed one book ahead of my roommate-at-the-time and read all of the titles in the original series, from Dune through Chapterhouse: Dune. I was crazy about the story and have always wanted to work my way back through.
My introduction to Dune, however, was David Lynch’s movie, which came out when I was about ten years old. Star Wars it was not, but I loved it.
Having gone back to the original novel, what stuck out is how embellished Lynch’s film was. I’m not going to bash it, but there are a number of additions that appear nowhere in the book: heart plugs and the guild navigators, to name two. Topless Robot has a good listicle on this.
I found Herbert’s style terse this go around. Of all the voices in the book, I found the dialog and behavior of Jessica to be hard to believe (yes, I know it’s a book that features giant sandworms who make an addictive drug). And as tersely as it began, it ends suddenly.
My curiosity is piqued now: perhaps it was the six-novel stretch that I loved, which informed the nascent novel, that I look back so fondly upon. Might need to dip into Messiah again.
