I got Herbert's classic Dune expecting to find the archetypal sci-fi epic, a grand, gritty, futuristic, gimmick-free tale of strife and conflict. That, I certainly got. Twists and turns abound, this has plenty for any reader who likes an exciting, fast-moving, intriguing plot. Rife with treachery, an array of diverse characters lock horns in a variety of ways with palpable tension and sometimes dire consequences - plots within plots within plots develop.
What I didn't expect, however, was such an emphasis on religion and mysticism, on culture, on ecology and landscape, on inner discipline and wisdom, often insightfully reflecting upon the nature of humanity. Nor did I expect such an undercurrent of beauty flowing beneath the brutality, be it in the landscape, in the people, in the mentality of individuals. Arrakis is a deadly world, yet it holds its charms too as certain characters note - in a beautiful sunset perhaps, in a simple silence, or in the richness of Fremen culture. Necessarily hard and uncompromising in their ways, the Fremen, residents of their harsh and dry Arrakis home, are swept up by the dream of a more habitable world, where water falls from the sky, where greenery isn't swallowed by the vast sands and lakes are more than just wishful thinking. A young boy born a future-seeing prophet, hardened by intelligence beyond his years and a sensation of terrible purpose, unable at times to keep his own frailties at bay as he teeters on the fine line between liberation and ruin. An ever-complimentary contrast of harsh violence with gentle beauty is what most makes this story special, epitomised for all to see by Gurney Halleck - an ugly, ruthless killer, with the mind of a poet and a talent for song.
