Dune, by Frank Herbert

“Dune” is often spoken of as the “masterpiece of science fiction,” and this description is a terrible joke. This future tale is set somewhere around 20,000 years in the future, instead of a mere fifty years, like so many books of its kind.

While humanity is spread around the universe in colonies and off-world stations, “Dune” focuses on a planet called Arrakis, (and briefly on another unimportant world). This barren, sandy planet is covered in dunes, with a tough native population called the Freeman.

The story revolves around a woman (Jessica) and her son (Paul) who is part of a weird witchy society of people with special powers. Paul is supposed to have the greatest magical powers of all, which doesn’t belong in a science fiction book.

The story gets political, with Jessica being betrayed and escaping with her son afterwards, with a sort of class-clash following. There is a time jump, followed by an inevitable fight against the emperor.

“Dune” is supposed to be a great book; however I hated every word of it. In the first fifteen pages, Frank Herbert assaults you with such a dizzying number of names, places, ideas, religions, cults, planets, and universes – it is impossible to understand what is happening. You know there is a desert somewhere, and someone is having a baby. There is a duke for sure; and as the story proceeds, you realize it is not that intergalactic.

The book is centered around a dispute between some lofty fellows, who end up fighting on some crummy desert planet. Overall, it is too political, confusing, and in the end, it doesn’t make any sense. Maybe this was a masterpiece when it was first published, but now it is redundant and boring.