Spoilers for Dune, Dune Messiah, and Children of Dune.
Every single conversation I have had regarding whether to read Dune or not has always ended up veering into whether to read the sequels and if so, where to stop before they get “bad” or things get too “weird.” With Children of Dune I have arrived at my answer to that question. To be clear, I never intended to read beyond this third novel given everything I have heard about Herbert’s subsequent three Dune sequels. Based on what I had heard from others, and after having bought the deluxe box set of the first three books, I was hoping for a solid Dune original trilogy experience that would carry me through to the end of the Paul Atreides story. Having finished Children of Dune, I think I would have been better served by calling it quits after finishing Dune Messiah.
Children of Dune is not a bad book, but it is mediocre and definitely a big step down for this series. There are some promising ideas here, particularly the Preacher and the murder tiger assassination plot. The problem is that these concepts fall flat and fizzle out about halfway through the novel and are replaced by really badly-paced scheming. Trying to keep track of each character’s placement, motivation, and loyalty in this book was like trying to focus while a party magician shuffled a deck of cards. To be honest, I kind of stopped caring about some of it along the way.
The characters here were also pretty uncompelling. In my reviews for Dune and Dune Messiah, I noted my strong dislike for Alia, and that was only compounded in this book. This is not because she’s a villain – I have loved most of the other Dune villains – but because I find it really difficult to relate to or care about a character who literally does not have a personality or soul of her own. The twins present a similar issue here. All three of these characters carry the memories, knowledge, voices, and souls of all their ancestors, so are they really characters at all? The entire preoccupation in this book with possession and out-of-body experiences was a far cry from what captured my attention in Dune and Dune Messiah. The twins, particularly Leto, also had the added problem I’ll refer to as the “Superman problem.” Basically, they are so powerful, smart, and capable that there is no room for them to grow as people or to learn anything new (other than how to unlock even more power). It was really disappointing to see how Frank Herbert went from writing Paul Atreides as the avatar for the well-meaning revolutionary who gains power and succumbs to its temptations, to literally having his son undergo his own heroes journey for power in which he physically transforms into a pseudo-immortal non-human worm-skinned god immune to knives, poison, and every other weapon imaginable. I get it. Herbert really wants to hammer it in that mythology, imperialism, leadership cults, and messiah figures are an eternal feature of human civilization. But I really didn’t almost five hundred pages of this to get the same point he made so much more compellingly and in half the words in Dune Messiah.
And finally, speaking of Dune Messiah, what a disappointing tacked-on conclusion to Paul’s story. The ending of Dune Messiah was a perfect ending for the character and to see him brought back one more time to do almost nothing and then have such an underwhelming end was so disappointing.
The more I write these thoughts down, the more confident I feel saying that this book is not at all essential to the original Dune story arc. I’d absolutely advise stopping after Dune Messiah, then do what I’m about to do for the other books: look up a plot summary and feel grateful that you left Arrakis before the spice ran out.
The Once and Future Lit 