Writing new Dune novels would be a massive project: they either had to convincingly match Frank Herbert's execution, or be so original and fresh that they defied comparison. As the younger Herbert says, tackling a new series to complement the enormous Dune legacy was "immense, so daunting."
But tackle it they did. Young Leto Atreides, ducal heir to the planet of Caladan, is sent to foster on the machine planet of Ix. Meanwhile, the brutal Harkonnen clan takes over Arrakis, the desert planet that is the only source of spice, a substance that extends human life and also bestows semi-prescience on its users. The Padishah Emperor Elrood IX plots elaborate revenge on a former concubine who married Dominic, earl of the planet Ix. Elrood's son Shaddam, impatient to rule, starts poisoning his father's spice beer. The Harkonnens plan the destruction of the Atreides clan. Planetologist Pardot Kynes convinces the Fremen natives of Arrakis (a.k.a. Dune) that he can bring water back to their desert planet; and the eerie Reverend Mothers include Baron Vladimir Harkonnen in their breeding scheme to produce a male child with visionary powers.
Passion isn't enough
Herbert and Anderson have thought through the events of this novel in detail; this is where their passion shows. There are interesting twists, such as the younger Baron Harkonnen being handsome and trim, or the revealed connection between the Lady Jessica and the Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam. Encountering these characters again is like visiting with old friends after a long absence.
Sadly though, passion, no matter how keenly felt, is not enough to create a great work. Herbert and Anderson have not given the Dune series back to the world; neither have they created a fresh vision and voice for the new novels. The point-of-view shifts are dizzying. The writing is derivative and lacks the political astuteness that a geopolitical epic must have. The authors paint characters and situations in broad, thin strokes, thus magnifying a touch of essentialism that did characterize the Frank Herbert novels (e.g. the bad guy was obese, perverse and ugly; the muslimesque Fremen were belligerent, polygamous and dogmatic). In the original Dune, the Suk Imperial school of medicine seemed to have aspects of an Asian philosophy or culture. The Herbert/Anderson Suk doctor has a black ponytail "longer than a woman's" (what is the regulation hair length for women?), walks with a shuffle, and refuses to treat anyone until he's paid. This is caricaturing, not character development. Doctor Yungar does all but say, "No tickee, no shirtee."
Then there's Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, the wonderfully hateful and depraved force of evil in the first Dune novel. In the original, Baron Harkonnen was a sexual predator who enjoyed torturing young boys and men. The new novel, however, twists this information: it makes much of the fact that he is "attracted" only to males, as though attraction were the same as preying. The Baron says, "The actual procreation process, involving women as it does, disgusts me." It's a disturbing conflation of homosexuality with sexual pathology, not to mention misogyny.
Perhaps having laid this groundwork, Herbert Junior and Anderson can go on to push their writing talents and develop a new Dune series that is a fit complement to the original. Dune: House Atreides, however, is not a promising start.
I am also the daughter of a now-dead writer, much loved by his peers. It can be intimdating to live in that shadow, so I have some sympathy for what Brian Herbert and Kevin Anderson have taken on. I hope that their future work is more successfully executed than this novel. -- Nalo



