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goingtoderby · 6 days ago

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Dune Messiah by Frank Herbert

Fresh off the heels of finishing the original Dune, I decided to press on and read the sequel right away. I've been liveblogging some of my off-the-cuff reactions it as I read, but now that I've finished it I want to collect my thoughts like I did with the previous one.

So. I don't know if that makes me a hipster in the Dune fandom, but I gotta admit I liked this way better than the original. Not that I didn't like Dune - there was a lot in it I enjoyed, as I've made clear - but I did find it hard to maintain interest and slog through long sequence that didn't have much going on for me. I had no such problem with Dune Messiah. There were a few chapters that dragged out a bit (I would say especially the third quarter of the book, after the announcement of Chani's pregnancy but before the stone burner scene, is a bit weaker than the rest), but nothing compared to Paul and Jessica's interminable trek through the desert in Dune. I think Dune Messiah really benefits from being short and narrowly focused on the conspiracy against Paul. Frank Herbert can be more than a little self-indulgent as a writer (and seeing the lengths of the next books, it doesn't get better) so I think he benefits from being reined in a bit.

It's not just a length issue though. I found myself vibing with Dune Messiah's narrative structure a lot better too. Part of it is that because the first Dune was so culturally influential, its plot does come across as a bit played-out (even if the specifics of how it plays out and the themes that are developed through it are deeply original). So there was an element of fatigue with these sorts of stories. Dune Messiah, by contrast, tells a really unique story, about a man who has achieved more power than anyone before him and still finds himself trapped within the system he created. Strictly speaking, not much happens in Dune Messiah - in that respect it might even be slower than its predecessor, despite being half the length. However, whereas in Dune the "nothing happens" space was usually filled with physical descriptions of the desert or impersonal philosophical musings, in Dune Messiah this space is largely filled with dialogue between characters with dramatically opposing viewpoints and goals. I think that makes the philosophical import of the ideas discussed stick out a lot better - the best way to assess conflicting ideas is to put them in the mouths of different characters force them to clash against one another. There's a reason Plato's dialogues are so timeless, after all.

So, what do I make of the ideas presented in Dune Messiah? Obviously we have to start with the way in which it recontextualizes its predecessor. While Dune already lays the groundwork for the Fremen Jihad and gives you plenty of reasons to question Paul's choices, the point was clearly missed by most of its readers, and part of the reason Herbert wrote Dune Messiah was to really hammer it home. Paul going "I am literally 10000 times Hitler" is a wonderfully on-the-nose instance of this. At the same time, it would be a mistake to read the narrative as passing judgment on Paul - like the previous book, it largely emphasizes the constraints he continues to struggle against, his visions of infinite possible futures only revealing to him how limited his range of choices really is. It's left to us to reconcile those two facts about Paul: his role as the God of a fanatical cult that swarms across the galaxy murdering anyone they deem a heretic, and his deeply human sense of powerlessness in the face of a great causal chain in which he's only one link.

Reconciling those two angles has been a fascinating challenge to me. The conclusion I've drawn (and I'd love to hear you guys' thoughts on this, since I have no idea if this is a common read) is that there is an element of self-delusion to Paul's powerlessness. To be sure, his prescience makes it clear to him that he can't stop the jihad, but we see hints that he would be able to limit its damage in some cases and chooses not to. There's a scene where he muses about how many planets he could save and then wonders if anyone would give him credit for that but like. My dude, getting credit isn't the point, those are still human lives you can save and you're choosing not to. But then again, isn't that what we're all doing when we refuse to donate all our excess income to life-saving charities? Paul's detachment from his moral responsibility is horrifying, but it might not be as alien as it first seems. I see hints of self-delusion too when he walks straight into the stone burner trap that he knows is awaiting him, because this is what his vision said would happen. A suggestion is made that any other course of action would still lead to the same outcome, but that seems implausible. A more psychologically realistic reading is that he prefers the certainty that prescience gives him even when that certainty is a negative one, over the wide open possibilities that lie beyond his ability to predict. This also makes the ending far more powerful, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

With all that in mind, we're still faced with the reality that Paul's behavior throughout the book is entirely selfish. His actions are directed at preserving his power (even as this power seems to bring him nothing but grief and bitterness) or at best, his loved ones (even as he denies those loved ones agency, more or that later as well). However powerless he might feel, he still has to choose how to expend his efforts (the same way the most dogged opponent of determinism is still faced with the experience of having to make choices), and he consistently chooses in ways that reinforce his own power. And again, it's not like he doesn't have arguments for it. When petitioned to draft a constitution that would limit his power, Paul responds that the empire would be even less free if it was bound by an impersonal and permanent set of laws escaping any kind of human oversight. It's not an argument I find convincing, but it's probably one that a right-libertarian like Herbert genuinely believed. It's also clear that Paul's opponents would make no better use of his power - the Tleilaxu are textually described as amoralists, and their creations run the gamut of "man-made horrors beyond your comprehensions". The Guild and the Bene Gesserit merely want to restore the old order and, much like the Bourbons after the French revolution, seem to have learned nothing and forgotten nothing. The whole system of power - the existence of a centralized imperial bureaucracy that can dictate its law across a galaxy - is the real problem, and that problem is beyond Paul's ability to fix.

Herbert's character writing definitely shows sign of improvement across the board. The focus is very much on Paul, and that does a lot to humanize someone who seems to be becoming less and less human. There's also a lot to like about Alia's portrayal, as we really begin to see how much her preborn status and her religious role within the cult of Muad'dib isolates her and leads her toward increasingly self-destructive tendencies. Duncan/Hayt is also a fascinating character, who lets us explore the question of personal identity and its connection to memory through a new angle. Scitale, Bijaz and the other members of the conspiracy are also deeply fun villains, and the Tleilaxu's alien sense of ethics is compelling in its own way. The different meetings of the conspirators were always a blast to read, showcasing how much these people hate each other and are only working together because they face a bigger threat. It's not a trope you see used a lot with antagonists, but it works really well here.

Unfortunately, this book also really showcases Herbert's failures when it comes to gender even more starkly than the original. The women in this book are almost entirely passive and relegated to sideshows. There isn't even anyone comparable to Jessica in the first book (Jessica herself having been Put On A Bus to Caladan and entirely absent of this story aside from a brief letter she writes her son). Alia is mostly there to suffer from the competing desires and frustrations her position brings (and get sexually assaulted by Hayt in a way that is rationalized in the worst fucking way through the "she really wanted it" logic). Irulan, whom I absolutely adore as a character and would love to see driving events, is reduced to a very minor role, and completely disappears in the second half of the story. And most frustratingly of all, Chani is done really dirty, made into an entirely passive character where nothing in the story demanded that of her. The way Paul treats her, hiding the fact that Irulan has poisoned her contraceptives for years then barely being there for her once she becomes pregnant (not even being there when she gives birth) is honestly on of the vilest things about him, and unlike the other questionable things Paul does, I don't think this was purposeful on Herbert's part. Paul's love for Chani is entirely possessive and never seems to involve any kind of agency on her part - and worst of all, she seems entirely fine with it! This is one aspect where I expect Villeneuve's adaptation to straightforwardly improve on the original. I was of two minds about the changes to Chani's characters in Dune Part 2, but this will be for the better in the long run if that means we see here make her own choices and call out Paul for his casual disregard for her agency (something that can easily be tied back to the way prescience is isolating him from his fellow man and woman).

With all that being said, I actually do really like Paul's choice not to take the Tleilaxu deal to revive Chani as a ghola. It should have been Chani's choice, of course (there's an idea for you, Denis!), but it's not like Chani would have been any more free if he'd taken the deal. In fact, she would likely have been even less free in a world where Paul is reduced to a Tleilaxu puppet emperor. This whole ending is about Paul ultimately choosing freedom over the prison he had built for himself out of his own selfish desires. His possessive love of Chani had made an enemy out of Irulan and trapped him in a no-win scenario. His desire to cling to power had chained him to following the narrow script dictated by his vision. In this climax, he renounces both desires, turns away from prescience, and in so doing, recovers his freedom. His final choice to walk off into the desert in accordance to Fremen custom is a political masterstroke, singlehandedly nullifying all his enemies' machinations, winning back Irulan, and cementing his regime's legitimacy. This victory is achieved when Paul finally heeds the call in the back of his mind to "disengage... disengage... disengage...". I really enjoy this demonstration that sometimes the strongest and wisest move is to let go, to give up a fight that just wasn't worth it. It also makes Paul into a real Fremen, one who is willing to follow the old ways after all after having been the cause of their overturning. It's far from a morally simple decision, of course, as Paul is merely offloading his terrible purpose onto poor Alia, who was already breaking apart and will soon be destroyed by it, and eventually to his own children. Still, it shows us Paul at his most human since the first book of the original Dune, before the weight of the universe fell onto his shoulders. For the Locked Tomb fans who are reading this, this is where I'm kinda hoping John's arc is headed.

I could go on and on about this book's themes. I have to mention the fascinatingly nuanced portrayal of the changes to Fremen society, how newfound affluence and power have brought them a lot of what they've always wanted while at the same time eroding the traditional organic solidarity of their society. There's also a lot to be said about the marriage of religious fanaticism with bureaucratic power, something with all too many parallels to our own world. But this writeup is already far too long and rambling already, so I should really stop here.

I've already started Children of Dune and so far it's Quite a ride. I'm going to keep sharing my thoughts, and hopefully I'll be able to keep them relatively coherent.

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goingtoderby · 15 days ago

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Sihaya

Pairing: Paul Atreides/Princess Irulan

Themes: AU-Canon Divergence | NSFT | Mild Smut

Warnings: Kissing | PIV sex

Wordcount: 1.8K

Summary: Paul and Irulan reunite after Paul returns from a journey to see his mother.

A/n: this was partly inspired by scenes in the first Dune book and the second Dune movie

A/n: Spoiler Alert – the words Jessica says to Chani can be found at the end of the first book.

Minors DNI | 18+

Those within the inner circle of Paul-Muad'Dib, Duke of House Atreides and Padishah Emperor of the Great Imperium, did not consider it possible for him to foreswear Chani Kynes, the intimate companion of his youth. Yet he did, and he turned to another, the woman many believed he would always treat as wife in name only, for counsel, companionship, and in time, love.

- From “Emperor Paul-Muad'Dib Atreides: A Profile” by Reverend Mother Arminus Elizabeth Nareah

Paul stepped over the lip of an entryway leading into a bedchamber lit by the half-light of a single suspensor lamp, having already bathed and dressed for sleeping. He found Irulan standing by a window, looking out into the city beyond the walls of the Governor’s Palace. She was dressed in a shift of sheer silk the color of deep blue and vibrant green, the shades he loved best on her. And it was all that was needed to make a welcomed flash of heat creep deep into his belly.

“You look ravishing tonight, my lady,” he called softly and crossed to her.

Irulan flushed and turned to face him. “My Lord Emperor,” she said, dipping her knees in a deep curtsy. “Husband. How was your journey to Sietch Tabr? Is the Reverend Mother Jessica well?”

“The journey was tiresome, but it was good to be among those I claimed as friends,” Paul said, studying her in the way his mother taught him—in the intricacies of hidden observation only those given the deepest Bene Gesserit training knew. Irulan was certain of her place now; it was visible in the untroubled way she carried herself. “My mother is well also,” he added, “and she asks that I bring you when I call on her next.” He paused for a moment. “I know my mother has not truly embraced you. But she wishes to change that. She wishes to teach you all that she knows and further the knowledge you received from your Bene Gesserit tutors. She wishes to make you a proper Sayyadina and a true Bene Gesserit adept. Say yes. It would honor us both if you did.”

Irulan was silent. She recalled a thing her mother-by-marriage stated to Chani after Paul slew Feyd-Rautha, and he offered to take her, the Princess Royal at the time, for a wife: "See that princess standing there, so haughty and confident. They say she has pretensions of a literary nature. Let us hope she has solace in such things; she will have little else. Think about this, Chani. That princess will have a name, and yet she will receive less than a concubine, she will never know a moment of affection from the man to whom she is bound. While we, Chani, we who bear the title of concubine... history will call us wives."

Much had changed since that fateful day now five years past. Chani refused to bow to Paul and left for another sietch, unwilling to share him with another even if it was only in name, and believing the prophecy of the Lisan al Ghaib was a fabrication, an elaborate lie devised to manipulate the Fremen. She had seen the truth within the cunning influence of the Missionaria Protectiva, but her leaving wounded Paul in a way no word could describe, and it had fallen onto Irulan to lead Paul out of the darkness Chani’s absence had left him in. Her willingness to put aside her own pride and tend to him despite his cold indifference toward her paid dividends, and in time, Paul began turning to her for companionship and counsel. Now, instead of Chani receiving what was her due as the beloved companion of Paul-Muad'Dib, it was Irulan who received it from him, his ear and his affection and his body all. Nevertheless, the sting of the words uttered by her mother-by-marriage still lingered, and Irulan was uncertain if Jessica had indeed altered her opinion of her. Many knew how much she had come to love and accept Chani, and that love had not changed, not even after Chani severed the bonds she shared with Paul and left.

“We shall see,” she murmured, her pride stiffening her voice. When Paul caressed her cheek, she looked up at him and found a sense of pleading in his eyes. She sighed and softened her stance. If Jessica was sincere in her offer to embrace her and teach her, then she will try to meet her halfway for her husband’s sake. And, she admitted to herself, she wished to further her skills without having to sacrifice her sense of self, like she would have had to have done had she furthered her training with the Bene Gesserit. “In another month,” she promised. “We shall go in another month, and I will consider her offer to teach me.”

“Thank you.” Paul led her to the foot of the bed. He sat on the edge and placed his other hand upon her belly, awash with a sense of love over the unborn son who was not yet three months old. “How is he?”

“He is strong,” Irulan said, “and he will grow stronger still.” She rested her hand over his own, and gave it a tender squeeze. “But that is to be expected. He is the son of Paul-Muad'Dib after all.”

A smile graced Paul’s lips. “He is your son also,” he said. “Have you considered a name?”

“Paul, perhaps. After his father,” Irulan said, moving to sit astride her husband. It was a thing that started to come naturally to her, little by little, as her marriage turned from one born out of political convenience into one of something more profound. “Or Leto, after the beloved father of his father.”

“Leto would suit, I think,” Paul replied, brushing the tips of his fingers over the gown his wife had chosen to wear. It was soft, almost as soft as the woman who wore it. “Leto II Atreides, the shining heir of the new Padishah Emperor.” He dipped his head to nuzzle at the crook of her neck. The sigh he heard was all the encouragement he needed to continue. “Does that please you, Sihaya?”

Irulan trembled. Sihaya was the desert sprintime, and it was a word that held deep meaning. It was not an endearment that was uttered lightly, and it was certainly not conferred upon a lover whose presence was deemed fleeting or meaningless. Paul addressing her thus, especially when they were in the presence of others, was no small thing. It meant her position by his side could never be questioned, and the bond that had grown between them could not be loosened by anyone.

“It pleases me greatly, beloved,” she said, circling her arms around his shoulders. Then she gasped. Paul had run the flat of his tongue up her throat and gently nipped at the soft flesh. It sent an intoxicating shiver up her back. “You are hungry tonight. How may I best sate you?”

“However you desire,” Paul husked, sliding his hands around her waist and bringing her even closer. He was already so hard it almost hurt. “I yearn for your warmth, my love. Please, let me have a taste of it.”

“You shall have more than a taste, beloved.” Irulan drew back, pulled off her shift, and discarded it without ceremony. Then, without wasting another precious moment, she framed her husband’s face with her hands and kissed him deeply.

Paul moaned, his fingers digging into his wife’s skin, as desire and need coursed through him without hindrance. He had seen this very moment in one of the many futures that appeared within his waking visions, but he had not considered such a thing possible. He had not thought Chani would leave him. Yet, leave him she did, and all paths that led to her were now nothing more than darkness and shadows. Paul did not have to be told what it all meant. Chani was not returning to him, and even if she did, all she she could hope for was a place at his table and at his council, nothing more.

This is how it is going to be, he told himself. Then he found himself being brought to the here and now by the feeling of deft but impatient hands gliding down his torso to untie the drawstring of his leggings.

“It appears that I am not the only one who needs to be sated,” Paul teased when he was finally able to speak. He pushed what little thought he had left of Chani into the past, where it belonged. Irulan was what mattered now, and Irulan was all that was going to matter; he saw it as clearly as day. “Who knew a princess as proper as yourself could be so wanton.”

Irulan laughed softly. She freed his erection from the confines of his garment and guided him inside of her. “Even a princess has desires of the flesh, just like any other woman. Does this displease you?”

“Far from it,” Paul returned, shuddering when Irulan sheathed him within the heat of her body. “Yes, my love,” he crooned into her ear when she undulated her hips and ground rhythmically against him. “There. Just like that.”

Their coupling soon turned into one of wild passion, but it was no less wondrous than all of the other nights they had come together. Paul kissed his wife, delighting in the sweetness he found clinging to her lips, and he drank in the subtle scent of spice that clung to her body and her hair. He held her tighter and tigher, urging her to yield to her own desires, and then he himself yielded to the wildness within him as she rode them both closer and closer to the edge.

Do not stop now, he wanted to say. Please do not stop. Irulan did not stop. She opened her eyes, and found Paul’s fixed on hers. There was love there, burning bright within the eyes that were the deepest shades of blue-within-blue. There was tenderness also, and want, and a longing that only ever appeared whenever he was with her. Irulan savored it all, just as she savored the pleasure that kept building and building until it crested and crashed and her whole body shook as her orgasm ripped through her. She fell against the one who held her, shaking from the aftershocks that followed her release, while he continued until he came, and emptied himself of his seed.

A moment passed as they stayed that way, uncaring of the world outside their chambers, and locked in each other’s embrace. Then another moment passed, and another, while the sound of their ragged breathing filled the still air. Paul was the first to stir. He brushed back the stray locks of Irulan’s hair, so he could see her better.

“Sihaya,” he whispered. “Return to me.”

Irulan took a deep breath, then another. “I am here, beloved,” she said. “Are you sated now?”

“I am. And you?”

“I am also.”

“That is good then.” Paul stood, carrying Irulan with him as he did so. He made his way to the other side and laid her down amidst the pillows. “Give me a moment,” he said, as he stooped to tug down on his leggings. “And then you can tell me of what took place after I left. I wish to hear it all from your lips.”

#saving for later #yummy

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