Frank Herbert's untimely death not only signified a great loss to both the literary and science fiction communities, it also left a vacuum in the Dune universe. Two trilogies were completed before the old master passed away, but even so, many loose ends and unanswered questions were left in his wake.
Decades later, Brian Herbert and Kevin J Anderson took maker hooks in hand and expanded upon the rich, intriguing universe of Frank Herbert's masterpiece. Allegedly, Frank left behind box upon box of notes, story outlines, and rough drafts that Anderson and B. Herbert used to draw inspiration from.
For the purpose of this review, and to avoid confusion, references to titles written by Frank Herbert will be followed by (FH). Titles written by Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson will be followed by (BK).
Eight books and several questionable canonical additions later (Duke Leto had a son before Paul? Gaius Helen Mohaim as Jessica's mother? The Baron Harkonnen is fat because of an STD?), their entries can arguably be called decent books, but poor additions to the life, history and surroundings of Muad'dib.
And now, after penning the chronicle of the Butlerian Jihad, the years preceding Paul's birth, and the events which follow the conclusion of the Bene Gesserit’s war with the Honored Matres, Anderson and Herbert have returned to visit upon us yet another tale, arguably non-canonical, concerning the House Atriedes. The book is called Paul of Dune, and concerns the titular hero which many Dune fans know and love so well.
May your blade chip and shatter.
The story takes place in two separate timeframes – between the Prelude to Dune trilogy (BK) and Dune (FH), and between Dune (FH) and Dune Messiah (FH). The narrative jumps back and forth between young Paul on Caladan, and older Paul on Arrakis. We see House Atriedes embroiled in a War of Assassins alongside their allies, House Ecaz. Paul, Leto, Gurney Halleck and Duncan Idaho are all placed in repeated peril, and using their strengths, wits and intuition, they overcome challenge after challenge, until the triumphant victory at the end of the book.
The second story plays out in much the same way. It deals with Paul's consolidation of the Imperium after his defeat of Shaddam Corrino IV at the Battle of Arakeen, and details many of the logistical obstacles one might expect to encounter after such an usurpation. Certain aspects of both these stories work rather well, and are enjoyable to see play out in the book.
Assassination attempts made on Paul's life by the enemy in both tales seem like feasible, realistic events, but the nature of said attempts is so outlandish, it makes the reader wonder just what exactly the authors were thinking. In one particular scene, as Paul Muad'dib holds court in his newly constructed citadel, small embossed circles on the wall open, and from them swarm hundreds upon hundreds of hunter-seekers. Then a bomb goes off under the throne.
This is not only as ridiculous and grandiose as it sounds, but it just doesn't work. The security surrounding Paul during and after his victory at Arakeen would have been extreme, and that's to say the least. The fanaticism of his Fedaykin guards is not downplayed in the novels, and even in this book we see the fervor with which they serve and protect him. The idea that someone – even the person described in the book – could smuggle, plant, and activate the implementations of such a flamboyant attempt on Paul's life seems ridiculous.
There are other instances which don't seem to fit, such as a Tleilaxu master's confession to Count Hasimir Fenring, "we have our own Kwisatz Haderach." Tleilaxu secrecy is a hallmark of Herbert's original novels, to such a degree that even the reader doesn't know all their secrets until the final installments of the series. For a Tleilaxu master to simply say, "oh yeah we have on of those super-human deals who can see the future, sure." is even more ridiculous than the aforementioned hunter seeker swarm, and the offhanded nature in which the remark is made is nothing short of infuriating.
It is instances like this that ruin what is otherwise a decent story. Seeing Stilgar lead assaults on rebel worlds during the Jihad, including the capture of Kaitain, is an interesting affair. As is Princess Irulan's appointment as Paul's historian and scribe. We also finally meet the child of Lady Margot Fenring and Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.
While many fans might consider these details interesting, the ideas in the novel suffer on two painful accounts.
The first, and most obvious, is the presentation. Frank Herbert had a very distinctive way of writing. It can be, at times, difficult to understand, but it works in the context of Dune. His descriptions are vague so as to let the reader construct their own image of Herbert's idea, while including enough important details that the reader still sees what the author wants them to see.
These new books are different. Everything is described with too much detail, and the result is a shallow and artificial feeling product that bears some strange need to explain itself, or something. This would be a complaint not worth mentioning, if only said descriptions were better. The wording is often so elementary that the books read like juvenile fiction (ala Twilight and Harry Potter) as opposed to follow-ups to one of the greatest science fiction masterpieces ever to see the light of day.
The second – and this is a personal gripe – is that these are not details that we need. I already know what Paul did between Dune (FH) and Messiah (FH): He was the emperor of the known universe. I don't CARE about Stilgar learning to swim before leading assaults on aquatic worlds. That fact is a given, and I don't need it explained to me.
Over all, Paul of Dune is a decent book in it's own right, but fans of the original series will likely consider it a lackluster entry into the universe. The tome is weighed down by far too many ridiculous and unnecessary elements, like war horses (real, living, breathing horses) which are "driven" by electronic control panels, apparently wired into their brains. Why they can't just ride the horse is beyond me. If it weren't for this and other absurdities, Paul of Dune would likely garnish more respect from the Dune fan base, and the liberties taken by Bryan and Kevin in Frank Herbert's absence would be far more forgivable.
I hate to leave the universe of my favorite book on such a sour note. Keep your eyes open for the follow-up to this review, which will be an overview of Dune as a series.
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