The Duke (Dune pages 161-253)
Thinking Man Book Club Week 3
Warning: Spoilers ahead. Really, really soon. If you haven’t read Book One of Dune in its entirety, turn back now.
John’s Comments:
I’d like to take the first sentence of this post to ask for a moment of silence for Duke Leto Atreides.
Thank you.
Yes, much to my sadness—although it’s the only logical way this story could have gone—the good duke has died. My favorite character of the story so far has ended and into “Book 2” we go. I hope the young ducal heir will make his father’s ghost proud.
A lot happened since the last check-in for the book club.
We lost Duke Leto.
We also lost Piter, the mentat/assassin/lackey of Baron Harkonnen. (I was a little disappointed how quickly this character exited the story. It seemed like he was building toward something big. This was the most shocking part so far.)
The worst character in the book is also dead. That would be Yueh. I think I hate him more than any character in any book I’ve ever read, and it isn’t for the fact that he caused the duke’s death. He was annoying as hell, his internal monologues were cringe-worthy, and his plot to get revenge on Baron Harkonnen was clearly not thought out very well.
The Lady Jessica is carrying Leto’s daughter inside her.
Baron Harkonnen likes “wrestling” boys who look like his grandson.
That’s right—our young ducal heir is half Atreides and half Harkonnen.
I have to admit I find it a little cliché that the young ducal heir-boy Paul at the age of fifteen is stronger than most men ever dream to be. I guess that’s because he has literally every superpower a science fiction character can have. The boy can see the future. He can see each distinct path each of his decisions will make while also knowing everything that has happened and will happen. It seems like he knows everything about anything, too. Just by glancing at his mom’s face, he was able to tell that she was Baron Harkonnen’s daughter, even though he never met the ol’ Baron.
Oh, and he’s the grandson of the bad guy who caused the death of his father! (I imagine George Lucas took a ton of inspiration from this in creating the relationship between Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker—spoiler alert, they’re twins!)
One thing I’ve learned reading Dune is this: our boy Frank Herbert wants to leave literally nothing up to the imagination. Come on, guys. He already told us that the boy Paul’s unborn sister is destined to become a saint. (Personally, I was disappointed in finding this out before her birth. We missed out on the chance to be dying of anticipation on whether Jessica and the baby would be able to make it out of the story alive. Sadly, Herbert did not want us to worry about that at all.)
Either way, the story has picked up dramatically. But I have to admit that I still can’t say I’m liking it much—although I’ve been using the language in the book for fun for the past week, so I might be liking it more than I give it credit for (either that or I’m just having fun calling Melissa my ducal heir or referring to my dog as the Lisan al-Gaib).
Listen. My complaints about the book being cliché, while arguably true now, were not the case back when it came out. Like I said last week, I can see why it’s so groundbreaking. The world-building is impressive. It just hasn’t been my cup of tea.
By next week I’ll have read “Book 2,” and am hoping I will finally understand the importance of the Muad’Dib that this annoying Princess Irulan has been hyping up since the first chapter. Until then, I look forward to the discussion in the comment section. See you next week!
Melissa’s Comments:
One thing I’ve noticed about this book is that the scenes which should be boring are actually pretty interesting, and the ones which should be interesting are unexpectedly laborious to get through.
My favorite part of this week’s reading (and of the book so far) was the dinner party scene, where we learn about the Duke Leto’s unparalleled benevolence, the unquestionable-yet-questionable1 scarcity of water, and the seedy underbelly of Arrakeen business affairs.
Herbert is clearly making a political statement here, although I’m not sure exactly what it is. It’s clear that water represents wealth, and that we’re supposed to be disgusted by the Harkonnens’ blatant misuse of it. There’s no solution to be seen, though, and whether Herbert is ever going to present one is unclear. So far, it seems like he’s trying to present a bird’s eye view of political dealings without taking any sides. I respect it.
There’s Duke Leto’s talk of weather control, which he speculates will be so successful that “One day, water will not be a precious commodity on Arrakis.” I can’t help but think of the dated Marxist claim that technology would make it so no human beings would have to work for several hours a day.
It’s a naive claim, for sure, and it is not made any less so by the ‘bad guy’ banker Bewt’s cryptic reply, “Many people have sought to change Arrakis.” Plus, there’s the blatant fact that the locals do not take kindly to the duke’s insistence that they give up the water (i.e. wealth) that they’ve always enjoyed, illustrating just how difficult implementing such well-intentioned change actually is. Say what you want about Frank Herbert—he understands nuance.
This was a great scene, better even than the ‘action’ scenes which followed it. I was sad that the duke died, and thought it was cool that Yueh stuck it to the Harkonnens one last time in his betrayal. I have a newfound respect for the Lady Jessica after her conversation with Hawat.
However, I still just can’t bring myself to care much what happens. I see some value in this thing, but I’m still not really looking forward to reading another hundred or so pages of it this week.
That being said, I enter Book 2 with more questions than answers.
Why are the Fremen paying the Guild for privacy? Is there a real-life analogy for the ‘Great Convention’?
And what’s with this spice stuff—once you try it you’re addicted?
The Bene Gesserit “exists only to serve.” Serve who? Who decides what outcome is good?
Also, is there anything the youthful ‘Muad’Dib’ can’t do?
Buckle your seatbelts—next week, if all goes according to plan, we’ll be discussing the entirety of Book 2.
Unquestionable because it is, of course, a desert planet, and questionable because Kynes made a few remarks which suggested that water on Arrakis is not as scarce as people claim.
I am 62 years old. I read Dune in the 1970s. I was not impressed. The best thing Herbert ever wrote was the White Plague in 1982. Though honestly it was not original either. This man's works pale in comparison to any thinking man's reading, especially LOTR. This for the most part is "pop reading" for the leisure reader to take their mind off of things, not meant to inspire any deep reflection or understanding of the nature of man. It's popular for the movies much like all the comic books make fun movies. Nothing to think about here.