We come to the final part of our Dune Messiah Reread. Now we must deal with the consequences of this these machinations, which happens to be… twins? Of course twins. It’s always twins.
Index to the reread can be located here! And don’t forget this is a reread, which means that any and all of these posts will contain spoilers for all of Frank Herbert’s Dune series. If you’re not caught up, keep that in mind.
Summary (through the ending)
Paul’s remaining eye tissue is removed, but he won’t get the Tleilaxu eyes he offers the other men. He tells Chani that they have eternity when she admits that she feels they are running out of time. Chani notes that Paul always refers to their unborn progeny as a single child, but she assumes that he must know she carries twins because he always knows everything. He tells her that their child will rule an even greater Empire than his own. The trial against Korba takes place, with the Fremen all nervous over Paul’s ability to see without eyes. Korba demands to face his accuser, but Paul say his accuser is Otheym—they have his voice by way of Bijaz. The other conspirators have fled Arrakis with the worm they kidnapped. Korba insists that he be judged by Fremen law, and Stilgar agrees—because he plans to take care of Korea himself later. Alia realizes that this was a plan between Paul and Stilgar to flush out the other traitors. Stilgar is surprised that Alia could not sense that ahead of time, and she wonders how he has changed. Stilgar asks if she is questioning his loyalty, and she insists that she isn’t… but she knows that he is about to betray Paul and tells Stil so.
Hayt is sent to talk to Bijaz, who claims to have been there when they reanimated him and tells him that his flesh did not want to be brought back to life. Hayt suspects that Bijaz is there to unbalance Alia somehow, then realizes that the dwarf is actually there to unbalance him. Bijou sings to him, explaining that they were grown in the same tank, that they are like brothers. He possesses the words and phrases to trigger Hayt—who he insists is truly Duncan Idaho. He tells Duncan that the Emperor will come to him one day and say “She is gone.” And in that moment they will offer him a ghola of Chani, and when he is vulnerable. He also tells Duncan that the Atreides carry Harkonnen blood through Jessica to help tip the scale of his argument. And the price will be renouncing his godhood, his sister, and his CHOAM holdings. Then he claps his hands, preventing Duncan from remembering their discussion of these matters.
Alia has taken a great dose of spice to attempt to see what her brother sees. She talks to Hayt and calls him Duncan, which he does not want her to do. She tells him that the Bene Gesserit are hoping to get their breeding program back in line by getting Paul’s child… or hers. She cannot see who the father of her child will be, however. Hayt begins to realize that she has likely overdosed on spice and wants to call a doctor—he cannot bear the thought of an Atreides woman dying. Alia realizes that the ghola loves her, and a doctor is called to help with her overdose. The doctor worries that she was poisoned, but she dismisses them and insists that Hayt stay with her. She tells him that she wishes she were not part of her brother’s story, that she wants the ability to laugh and love. She asks Duncan if he loves her, and he admits that he does. He tries to get her to sleep, but she tells him about the plot against Paul and how bad it has become. She drifts off thinking of the child she will have one day, and how that child will be born aware, just like her.
Chani looks out on the desert near the sietch where she will give birth. Her contractions have started but she wants a moment to herself, confused as to why Paul has brought so many people with them into the desert, including enemies. Hayt insists that Chani comes inside to avoid the coming sandstorm, recognizes that she’s about to give birth and calls other to them. He is gripped by fear that Chani will die and Paul will tell him so, wondering where the panic is coming from. Then he knows that Bijaz has done something that will trigger him when the time comes.
Paul is thinking of the future that is rushing toward him, wishing that he could tell his believers to worship life and not him. Hayt comes by to warn him of how he’s been rigged, but Paul insists that he will not do violence to him. He calls him Duncan, which Hayt thinks is dangerous… but then Hayt calls him “young master” as Duncan used to do. Paul advises him to choose his humanity. One of the Fremen approaches to tell him that Chani is dead and Paul utters the trigger. Hayt moves to stab him, but then has a crisis of consciousness and realizes that he is Duncan Idaho. Paul tells him that this was the moment he came back to him. Paul is then told that Chani gave birth to twins and that the speed of the birth is what killed her. Paul is shocked that he did not see two children in his visions and finds that he can no longer see. He comes to the room where Chani’s body and his children are, and Harah directs him to them. Paul had only ever seen a girl in his visions. He tries to access them, to see what is around him now that his vision is truly gone.
Alia comes in with Lichna, who Paul knows is truly Scytale in disguise. The Face Dancer is fascinated to learn that Duncan Idaho has regained his past. He tells the room that he will kill the Atreides children if Paul does not take his offer to have Chani back as a ghola. Paul realizes that they gave him Duncan to further entice him with the possibility that Chani could truly come back to him, but he knows the price would be too high for all of them, at the mercy of the Tleilaxu forever. He tells Alia to bargain on his behalf, then suddenly regains his vision… from the vantage point of his son. He needs to kill Scytale, and he wonders if perhaps Chani’s needs for so much spice had been to give his children awareness just like Alia. The babies can focus already, staring at each other. He names the boy Leto, for his father, and the girl Ghanima, “spoil of war.” Harah objects, as that is an ill-omened name that Alia used to tease her with, but Paul insists.
Bijaz comes in and insists that the plan succeeded, despite Scytale’s death; the Tleilaxu knew that Idaho thought of Paul as the son he never had, so he would not kill him if he resurfaced. He offers again to restore Chani, and Paul is more tempted than before. He orders Duncan to kill Bijaz to prevent this, and Duncan does. Paul then goes into the desert, and though Duncan thinks he will not die there, no one knows for sure. Stilgar takes Alia’s orders now, killing all the traitors including the Reverend Mother Gaius, which was in conflict with Paul’s orders—betraying him as Alia said he would. Duncan goes to Alia, who is racked with grief, calling her brother a fool for giving in to this path. She has had no more visions since Chani’s death, and now has to contend with Irulan who insists that she loved Paul but never knew it. Irulan has promised to renounce the Bene Gesserit and spend her life training Paul’s children. Duncan realizes that now the Bene Gesserit have no hold over any of the Atreides heirs with Irulan on their side. Alia pleads with Duncan to love her and tells him that she loves him, which confuses Duncan as it is such a departure from his old life. But he loves her and agrees to follow wherever she leads him.
Commentary
The biggest problem with Dune Messiah as a book is that it spends ages debating philosophy about what is happening, and not a lot doing things. I’ve already sort of gone into this, but it comes very clear by the end of the book where every conversation is ultimately about whether or not Paul is a slave to his prescience or not. There are places where it gets kind of silly; Alia tells Duncan “Nature abhors prescience” like “nature abhors a vacuum,” and at that point you kind of have to chuckle at everything.
None of these ruminations are bad on their own, there are actually several fascinating arguments within this tale, but it seems like these arguments were really all that Frank Herbert was interested in writing and then he just kind of built the book around that. It’s a pretty common writing error that makes me wonder what might have happened if an editor had broken the book down a little more. Some of the back-and-forths are deliriously obtuse, and then the books legitimately stops being fun. But the ultimate point is that the life of Muad’Dib is tragic, as we were informed at the outset. Paul is not truly a savior, and he is not a deity. He did what he thought he had to do, but he still only ended up substituting one brand of tyranny for another.
The most important of these arguments is probably Paul’s insistence that people prefer despots to kind rulers, and that freedom results in chaos. Now, this is a pretty common theory that tyrants love to use when they feel the need to prove themselves right (see: Loki’s speech in Germany during The Avengers), but we’re observing a system in this book where that kind of thinking has literally subsumed an empire of billions, and resulted in slaughter. Given the long view of history, we can blame Paul for some of this, but not all—there is a system in place around him that led to his rise, all the myth making and legend-seeding that the Bene Gesserit did before he ever arrived. So the book is not just a argument against making individuals into gods, it is critiquing a system by which people are condition to accept such individuals. Without legends, without religions, without prophecy, the rule of Muad’Dib high have never come to pass.
Herbert is might be preaching, but his messages are largely sound: Think for yourself. People are not gods. Gods are not governance.
I kept coming back to the section where Bijaz and Duncan discuss Alia, and how she is described more than once as the “virgin-harlot.” That’s a pretty loaded term, as it combines two of few main archetypes that women are ever allowed in fiction: maiden or whore. On the fictional world level, these tropes have not left the universe that Herbert as created despite thousands of years having passed (from what is ostensibly our own time), which is still irritating to me because it suggests that people have not evolved at all… then again, the Dune Universe is kind of about that. On the other hand, the use of these tropes to label Alia—or to specifically call out the ways in which she cannot be labeled—is very interesting. Alia suffers continuously from having not just a dual nature, but a multiplicitous one. She is many lives at once, but she is also herself, and it is clear that the reader is meant to consider the impossibility of that, the difficulty of being Alia.
Later on, the book even goes for far as to describe the many over-complicated relationships she has with everyone in her life. Her father is her father, but he’s also her husband and lover. Her brother is her brother and he’s also her son. Her mother is her mother and also herself. These are all warning signs for what will happen in the following book, a clear breakdown of the sheer magnitude of Alia’s being. Paul spends a lot of time thinking how rough his life is, how he could not stop what happened to him, but Alia is the one who truly cannot help being who she is, whose very existence is a contradiction. Calling her a virgin-harlot is too simplistic at the end of the day. Alia is far more than that, and her grief at the end of the book should be painful; she is abandoned by everyone in her life, altogether and quickly. It is little wonder that she hangs onto Duncan with her fingernails.
Duncan’s tale is also bobbing up and down in the background of this story, but it is one of the most important arcs of the whole book. The idea of regaining humanity from a dead man, and how this resurrection changes his purpose is also central to the novel’s themes: what is a person made of? Are they their hopes and dreams? Their memories? Are they what other people require of them? This is particularly clear at end; Duncan is also grieving over Paul in his way, as once he comes back to himself at the end of the book, he means to serve his Duke as he did before. But then Paul is gone and he is left with Alia, who was not even born before his death. Now his life revolves around a member of the Atreides family that he never meant to serve, and he’s aware of the fact that he is recalibrating for a different purpose.
Chani’s death always bugs the hell out of me as a reader. There is a need for her to die in order for the events of the next book to work, but we don’t see enough of her for it not to feel like a slight. The worst part is, I really enjoy the way she is written when Herbert deigns to write her. She is such a fierce and keen presence when she is there, and her perspective is consistently one of the most interesting in the book. Then we have many more character deaths on top of hers once Alia chooses to murder all the conspirators against Paul. There is a vague mention of how broken up Alia is over Chani’s death, but because Herbert never writes their relationship into the book, it doesn’t land as well as it could. All the emotional moments between people who are not Duncan/someone else are missing in the novel, and it feels sparser for it.
We have Irulan, who is now claiming that she loved Paul all the while and now wants to teach his children. It’s one of those unfortunate places where the book wraps too quickly, because hearing that about Irulan is not a satisfying turnover, but getting to witness her reaction might help it make more sense. Of course, this will also be important going forward….
Jessica’s absence in this novel is glaring, and it is clearly meant to be. We will see her again, too… she can’t very well stay out of everyone’s affairs forever. With that said—Children of Dune is coming.
Emmet Asher-Perrin has always been sort of mesmerized by the term “stone burner” as horrific weapon. You can bug her on Twitter and Tumblr, and read more of her work here and elsewhere.
I’ve always read this book as being just the first half of Children of Dune. The setup portion. The SciFi miniseries treated it that way, too
You hit the nail on the head “but it seems like these arguments were really all that Frank Herbert was interested in writing and then he just kind of built the book around that”. That tendency doesn’t get any better in the rest of the Dune series.
In my opinion that has happened to several other writers (I couldn’t get through Steve Erikson’s Fall of Light because of it). They forget that art should show, not tell.
Then Paul walks into the desert and Herbert is forgiven. Regardless of the book’s flaws, that scene hit me like a ton of bricks.
This series is so like the usual movie series – A great first movie, a “Meh” second & execrable after that. I doubt I’ll read the next book again & I certainly won’t bother with God Emperor or the rest of the dreck the has come since.
I’ve always been interested in Paul’s choice of name for his daughter. Since he was expecting and planning on a daughter this was likely not a sudden impulse but a carefully thought out choice. His daughter is to be Paul’s ‘spoil of war’, a prize snatched from death and defeat. In her Chani will live on and his visions be fulfilled. He sees her ruling a great empire – which of course Ghanima does, as Leto II’s consort and co-regent.
can’t think @2
It’s been described as “homeopathically bad” in that the goodness gets diluted in each successive book. I can see that, but I do enjoy Children of Dune. God Emperor is an interesting failure, imho, in that Leto is deliberately written as “evil”, or at least extremely dangerous to those around him, and literally inhuman.
In reading these summaries, I find myself much more interesting in the interpersonal relationships and the effects their various abilities/circumstances have on them. I enjoyed reading your musings on Alia and what it must really mean to be who she is, etc.
Totally forgot that Chani went the way of Padme :P Or should I say that Padme went the way of Chani?
Count me as one of the folks who enjoys the sequels (well, the ones with the name Frank Herbert on the spine); I also agree that Dune Messiah & Children of Dune kind of need to be treated as a single work.
Very happy to see the reread continuing.
@7, I’m with you. I’m really looking forward to Heretics and Chapterhouse.
I notice that the Bene Gesserit are depicted a bit more differently in Heretics and Chapterhouse.
Yes, they’re different, but there’s an umpty-ump thousand year gap between Dune/Messiah/Children and God-Emperor, then another, similar gap prior to Heretics/Chapterhouse, and God-Emperor kind of breaks the universe, so I’m prepared to accept the changes.
@9, @10, they evolve to adjust to the changing universe, but still have the core of what makes the BG great.
I know a lot of people bag on the later books, and I’m expecting it in the reread, due to the massive shift the series takes, but I love them. I think the changes help keep the series fresh, although some of the books suffer from what Emily describes with Messiah; lots of ideas that are gone into in great detail. It can hurt the flow of the books.
Count me as another one who is fond of the subsequent books. They aren’t Dune, but they aren’t meant to be. Herbert said what he needed to say with that novel, then found that he could say some other things in the same setting (and, you know, get paid for it). I do agree that he sometimes digresses into characters discussing philosophy and such as authorial mouthpieces, but given that much of it is worth reading I don’t grudge him that too much.
I look forward to seeing analysis of the different ways that the twins and Alia handle their birthright.
I was surprised at the amount of things I forgot about this sequel. The fact that Paul saw only a daughter in his visions, not a son (as in the mini-series) really took me by surprise. It’s been six years since my first read of the book but I still love it the same.
Personally, I think the Messiah belongs more with Dune than with the Children and in fact that the meaning of Dune, of its end and of the central figure of Paul is only fully revealed in the Messiah. I would go as far as to say that in some way it is superior to Dune and certainly that the one should not be read without the other – that they should really be only one book. On a simple level, both books have Paul as the central figure (whereas Children move on to Leto II and belongs more with God Emperor). On a deeper level, the Messiah actualizes, makes more explicit, and completes the main message/idea of Herbert that he only alluded to in Dune – and I think it is an important, deep, and thought-provoking message. Sure, indirect allusion might be argued to be a subtler, better way to go about it. Yet the “incompleteness” of Dune is that its seemingly triumphant end made it possible for readers to disregard the ambiguities of Paul’s motivations and actions, and the meaning of the end itself, if it did not fit with the reader’s desire for what the story should be or their idea of “hero”. It was easy to see it as the classic triumph over the evil of the Harkonnens, the Guild, the Empire, etc. (IMO the Dune film was particularly bad for that reason as it mostly glossed over such ambiguities, whilst the TV series was better in that respect). I confess that I suspect that for a lot of readers who did not like Messiah, it is because in their hearth of hearth they still hoped that in the end Paul would turn out to be the classic superhero that would triumph over evil (again) thanks to his moral rectitude and superpowers, and were disappointed that it did not turn out that way – but please don’t be offended if you feel you disliked the Messiah for other reasons, I’m not saying it is the case for everybody nor that Messiah is a perfect book that cannot be criticized.
The whole point of both books is similar to what the above analysis says about humans not being gods, and the danger of making them into gods. But more specifically I would say it is about how superheros/superhuman beings are catastrophic for humanity. They redefine the meaning and limits of human action which is not a good thing. Science-fiction allows for such superheros to actually exist and Herbert explore the consequences in a darker and more realistic way than most, perhaps all, books on the subject – but only the Messiah pursue them to their catastrophic end. The main problem of prescience is not its limits but rather that it is in a way too powerful for humans. By providing visions of the future it can give the certainty that such future cannot be changed and thereby visions easily turn themselves into self-fulfilling prophecies (In Dune Paul has visions of the Jihad to come, think that by leading the Fremen to “war” he might get the power to prevent it, yet in the end resigns himself to it as something of an historical/biological necessity, thereby becoming the cause of it). Moreover, should we be provided certainty about the outcomes of our actions, it becomes incredibly difficult to resist the reasoning of “the end justifies the means” and this opens the door to very murky moral territory. How many of us would have killed Hitler if we had met him in his youth and could have been absolutely certain he would lead to WW2 and the Holocaust (or if we could go back in time with the certainty of hindsight)? Yet killing him before he killed anyone would have been murder. Justified murder, perhaps, but murder nevertheless. The whole question is how justified it would be. The argument “the end justifies the means” becomes almost overwhelmingly compelling when the end is beyond doubt both in its happening and its morality (In that context I did like God emperor because it pursued that argument even further. How “evil” or “good” is Leto? There is no clear answer, that is precisely the point. His ultimate goals are supposed to be good, in fact we are not in a position to question this since his total prescience gives him absolute authority on the subject, yet because he possesses this certainty he performs a whole lot of evil acts justified by these goals. Can we fully condemn these acts is they are necessary conditions for the very survival of humanity?)
Yet the point is that normal humans never act or make choices under such circumstances. They can never rely on the certainty of prescience to know they are absolutely right. Humans have to act, and to try to act morally, without ever possessing this kind of certainty about the future, about the consequences of their action, about what is the right thing to do in difficult situations or dilemmas. The attraction of superpowers is that they offer the promise to supersede the natural frailty and uncertainty of human action, but this is not the answer since they create even more dangerous problems (such as tyranny). We need to accept this as part of our condition, despite the anguish and pain it might cause, and do the best we can in those conditions (only the 3rd central figure of Darwi Odrade seemed to have learned the lesson; and to me the non-FH sequels are awful not only because of the writing but even more because they roll back on this message by seemingly claiming that, after all, superheros are the answer, if only we make them even more powerful/perfect).
my understanding is that Dune and Dune Messiah were actually supposed to be one monster book, but after the 20+ rejections, Herbert accepted the advice of his actual publisher to split the two.
I find God Emperor greatly enhanced by reading the Dune Encyclopedia (supposed histories kept by the God Emperor in an Ix Globe) and found between God Emperor and Chapterhouse
I just adore the Dune Encyclopedia!
With its deconstruction of Paul’s path to power, and mediations on the nature of power, causality, and consciousness/personhood, I feel like I should like this book a lot, but once again I got through the last page with a feeling of meh. None of the individual themes and character arcs that could/should have been better developed stand out in particular, but I think the accumulated effect of multiple missed opportunities just makes the whole thing feel a bit unfinished.
@15/Joe thomas: Any citation for that claim? It feels plausible, especially in light of the points raised by @14/Dr. Strangelove…yet, I’m somewhat skeptical because the style and tone of the two books don’t seem like they came from the same manuscript. Moreover, if Dune Messiah was actually part of Herbert’s initial submission, then it means he had the better part of a decade to flesh things out into something with a bit more depth and polish; if true, the failure to push him on that point doesn’t speak well of the editors IMO.
@15/Joe thomas and @17/Ian: The information provided in Road to Dune shows they were not a single manuscript. Joe Thomas, you might have got this impression because, when seeking to publish Dune, the question was whether to publish its 3 parts as separate novels or as a single one, given it was already much longer than typical novels at the time.
I was speaking more of a conceptual continuity. In practice things are never so neat and it is clear from Road to Dune that FH did not know exactly where everything was going and how from the start. That said, Road to Dune also tells us that Campbell (the editor of the magazine where Dune was serialized) liked a lot Dune but disliked and rejected Messiah because of Paul’s dark path, to which FH replied that it had always been his intention to write about a anti-hero and the damage that hero figures create because of their powers, the myths that surrounds them and the zealots followers they attract (not exactly my point but close).
Otherwise I do agree that the style differs from Dune to Messiah, but I personally think the style of Messiah is better, more polished and more mature. Dune’s style is far from bad but it feels a bit “jerky” at times (less smooth in transitions and more cursory in characterization), perhaps in part because it was first written for serialization with no certainty about novelization yet (FH was still fairly inexperienced as a writer too). However I’m only speaking of writing style. I do agree with all the comments made about the lack of development of some characters/relationships in Messiah. It feels as if with Dune first conceived as serialization (and its future as novel yet uncertain) FH was freer to explore and include secondary avenues, in the end giving more flesh to the living and breathing world, whereas with Messiah he was more focused (in a hurry?) to make it a novel from the get go and get to the finish line (certainly he spent much more time working on the former overall). So in terms of structure/plot line Messiah is less polished. That said both books had scenes and chapters deleted, most probably under the pressure of publishers.
Personally I don’t think Dune is complete without Dune Messiah at a minimum. Everything I’ve read about the intention of FH indicates this as well. Not much point having a cautionary parable where there’s no lesson at the end of it…
Good stuff Emily as well. I’m enjoying this and would love to see more comments. Still up there with my favourite novels. Frank Herbert had a stunning style IMO. I love all of them to be honest although I find Children of Dune probably sticks with me the least, little seems to happen in it for the size and I don’t think the story is quite as dense as the other novels.
Onwards.
@@@@@18/Dr. Strangelove: Good background stuff, thanks. I often find that learning about the pragmatic factors that affected and constrained an author’s efforts to turn ideas into a published work can make it easier for me to accommodate aspects of that work which I otherwise dislike. Understanding both the process and the product can help build more appreciation for both.
—
Rereading the first few chapters of Children of Dune drew a contrast that highlighted an aspect of Dune Messiah that, for me, further sets it apart from its predecessor and successor: its lack of epic sweep. After the grandeur of Dune—millenia of history, intrigues spanning multiple planets, the vastness of the desert—Dune Messiah is far more constrained; all but a handful of events take place in Arrakeen or Sietch Tabr, and nearly every scene has Paul in focus or centers on discussions about him. As a stylistic choice, it is quite effective at emphasizing the hagiography and oppressive centralization that Herbert is deconstructing. Yet, that narrower scope also results in a novel that seems a bit sparse, especially since a comparison with Dune is inevitable because the full impact of Dune Messiah is almost certainly lost unless one has first read its (narratively richer) ‘backstory’.
ill have to check my Dune reference materials to find my source, but it might just be some BG conditioning that made me believe it to be true
@19/Ryan and @20/Ian: agree on both counts. I also found Children to be the weakest entry in the series. For reasons whose discussion would belong in the threads on that book, Leto’s rise to power is far from being as enthralling as Paul’s.
On the other God-Emperor was one of my favorite in the series and yet nothing much happens in it either. And whilst I fully agree that the larger epic sweep of the original Dune is what mostly sets it apart from the sequels, I also feel that comparisons on that particular aspect are bound to favor Dune no matter what. That is, Dune is bound to be feel more epic if only because we are discovering this new and very rich world for the first time. The sequels were bound to be more limited in that respect lest they would make such a break with the original world that they would hardly qualify as sequels. Still, I agree that both Messiah and Children could have done a much better job in that respect. They do often leave us with the feeling that what happens in the rest of the universe is largely irrelevant but on a very abstract level. Dune does not, yet in terms of events/action it also focuses almost exclusively on what is happening in Arrakis.
Emily,
Irulan’s claiming that she always loved Paul is nothing but her attempt to rewrite history to erase from her awareness the fact that she lost.
In case you hadn’t noticed, all their conversations consisted of her either whining or scheming, and with Paul either telling her the facts of life or making threats. Is that what love looks like to you?
One question: How did the Bene Tleilax know Chani would die? From their failed kwisatz haderach? From Edrich? If it were him seems to give the Guild too much power and I’d think Paul would have somehow shielded his family. Seems like a big plot point for the conspiracy.