Archives: Sacred Cows

Dune is that rare thing — a book that is what it says it is. If you are interested in sand then this one is for you. Much of the praise that has been lavished on Dune stems from the fact that Frank Herbert has created a plausible, believable world. It has even been stated that one of the strongest characters in Dune is the setting itself... However, given that the place is all sand, is this such an accomplishment? I ask myself.

Well yes and no. Okay, the world of Dune is all sand... with a couple of rocks, but it is well-realised sand. It is plausible sand. There are other elements to the story. There are people. And worms. Big worms. They are called sandworms, not inappropriately, and they perform a host of functions within the context of the novel.

Let's just set the scene:

Dune, or Arrakis as it is known, is a very dry world. With lots of sand. The sand contains spice... well it would, wouldn't it... and this spice is special because it allows certain creatures to pilot spaceships through all the curly bits in space. It is therefore valuable because people have to travel through space to get away from dud planets with nothing on them but sand and bloody big worms. This fact gives Dune is dramatic impetus and provides Herbert with the magguffin of the story. Political intrigue. Herbert knew that sand alone would not an epic make so he put in a whole load of stuff about politics, religious mumbo-jumbo and worm farming, and he came up with a winner.

The plot revolves around the adventures of Paul Atreides, the son of the man lumbered with Arrakis as a base and how the young Paul survives attempts of his life by rival spice pushers and becomes a God figure. In this regard it is not unlike The Godfather or some other Mafia-inspired story. If you can imagine a mixture of Mafiosi, New Age religion and Beach Party-a-go-go, you can begin to get a feel for the thing.

Anyway, Paul Atreides is viewed by the locals as some sort of pre-ordained messiah and he promptly organises the huddled masses into a ruthless band of cut-throat killers who worship the ground he walks on even if it does keep moving. (And this may be a metaphor here... Paul is on shaky ground. The sand shifts beneath him. By the same token I might be wrong.) Just thinking about that prompts me to tell you to add Lawrence of Arabia to those things to think about. Now then... Paul's Dad gets knocked off, and his Mum gets taken away by a bunch of women who owe a lot, character-wise, to the three witches in Macbeth, (so you can add Macbeth too... and Richard the Third while you're at it).

So, what have we got: Dune is a combination of Mafia movies, New Age religions, Beach Parties, Lawrence of Arabia and a couple of Shakespearean plays... and space opera and cults... and, of course, worms. At this stage of the proceedings I should probably disabuse you of the notion of worms as soft squidgy things that lie about in compost heaps. These worms are huge and have teeth. In order to view them adequately as terror-inducing creatures it would be wise to concentrate on the teeth.

The book was made into a film in the eighties and I would urge anyone wishing to get to know the world of Dune to see the film... this should cure you of these odd desires. If you do see the film and then want to read the book in order to make sense of the film, be warned! There are sequels!