From Concept to Fable: The Evolution of Frank Herbert's 'Dune'
Dune is a novel rich in ideas as well as imagination…. (p. 41)
Recalling the origins of Dune, Herbert says:
It began with a concept: to do a long novel about the messianic convulsions which periodically inflict themselves on human societies. I had this theory that superheroes were disastrous for humans, that even if you postulated an infallible hero, the things this hero set in motion fell eventually into the hands of fallible mortals. What better way to destroy a civilization, a society or a race than to set people into the wild oscillations which follow their turning over their judgment and decision-making faculties to a superhero?
(p. 42)
[Detail] by painstaking detail, Herbert constructed a world, in an exercise of ecological imagination as gradual, as delicate, and as complex as such a planetary transformation itself might be. (p. 43)
[Paul Atreides, the hero of Dune,] is not merely a prophet, but a here-and-now messiah with more than a visionary dream with which to inspire a following…. In Paul, Herbert has a vehicle to explore the many factors that go into the creation of a messianic "superhero." Herbert lays out in detail the structure of aristocratic leadership, the use of psychological manipulation, the birth of an irresistible legend from individually insignificant events, and an unusual psychogenetic theory of history. (p. 45)
The feudal and paramilitary structure of the Empire and House Atreides reveals an important aspect of what Herbert describes as the superhero mystique. Feudalism is a natural condition into which men fall, he contends, a situation in which some men lead and others, surrendering the responsibility to make their own decisions, follow orders. (p. 46)
This then is the first layer of the superhero mystique: the hierarchical structure of leadership. Paul is trained to lead and his followers are trained to follow.
At the same time as Herbert was delineating the social structure of the Empire, he was introducing another layer…. Through the Bene Gesserit, Herbert psychoanalyzes the role of the unconscious in human affairs and the potential for its manipulation by the knowledgeable and unscrupulous. Most people are only half-awake—they react to external stimuli without really knowing why they respond the way they do. By contrast, the Bene Gesserit have schooled themselves to understand and master their own unconscious reflexes. This is graphically demonstrated in the test of the gom jabbar, as well as in other almost fantastic feats of psychological and physiological control. In addition, the Bene Gesserit have refined the ability to perceive and to play on the unconscious weaknesses of others. Their power to influence the course of politics depends almost entirely on this ability, applied both to individuals and to groups. (p. 47)
The significance of this power is easy to miss if we get caught up in the question of whether or not such a thing is possible. Herbert is extrapolating powers of suggestion and psychological manipulation far in advance of anything available today, but the power itself is not the main point. He is saying something about who we are as human animals. In Western civilization, we have placed so much emphasis on conscious thought and rationality that we have forgotten how much of our behavior is unintentional and uncontrolled by consciousness. We make choices for reasons of the flesh and feelings, as well as of the mind. The attraction of the superhero, as Herbert sees it, is a case in point. The Fremen do not follow Paul for logical reasons, but precisly because logic is not enough for comfort in a hostile world. Unconscious needs for security, belonging, and surety play a much larger role in a messianic upheaval than the conscious content which masquerades as the "cause." (p. 48)
Paul does in fact have remarkable powers, but far more important in the end is how the Fremen respond to them. There is a strong, unconscious projection that makes him even more special than he is. Part of this projection depends on the legends planted by the Bene Gesserit and the way they crystallize around Paul, but even more depends on the faculty of his followers for wishful thinking, the unconscious will to believe there is someone out there with answers they lack. Unable to find adequate strength of purpose in themselves, they look for a truth, a cause, and a leader to supply it. It is the same mutually supportive relationship of leaders and followers which was explored in the feudal setup of House Atreides.
Thus far, Herbert's portrayal of the "superhero syndrome" follows recognizable paths of social and psychological analysis. He drew first of all on the traditional messianic pattern, the longing for a better future exhibited by oppressed peoples. He then showed the structure of leadership—how a society functions with built-in expectations of who will lead and who follow—and explored the nature of charismatic myths and the possibility for manipulation of the unconsciousness in all of us. Each of these was to an extent an extrapolation from accepted understanding. But there is one other concept Herbert built his story on that is unique. This is what we might call his genetic theory of history.
Once again, Herbert uses the Bene Gesserit and the inner powers Paul has gained from them as his vehicle. The source of the almost supernatural abilities of the Bene Gesserit is a substance they call the Truthsayer drug, which allows their Reverend Mothers to draw on profound inner knowledge and the accumulated wisdom of the past. But it is only women who can master the inner changes brought on by the drug. It has always been death for a man. The Bene Gesserit have embarked accordingly on a centuries-long program of selective breeding to produce a man who can take the drug and live…. It is hoped that Paul may be this figure, but he has been born a generation too soon in the plan and is consequently not completely under their control. He has his own destiny to follow. (pp. 49-50)
[What] Paul's heightened inner powers give him is the same ability to perceive unconscious motivation with regard to masses of people as the Bene Gesserit Reverend Mothers have with individuals. And aided by a process of "Mentat" computation, he is in effect able to see the future as the Reverend Mothers see the past. (pp. 50-1)
In his visions, Paul comes face to face with the universe as it really is, a vastness beyond any hope of human control…. Paul confronts the vision of infinity, and learns to yield to it, to ride the currents of infinite time and not to restrain them. And then, symbolically, he leads his troops to victory on the backs of the giant sandworms, the untamable predators of the desert who may yet be ridden by those bold enough to take the risk.
These are difficult concepts—far more serious than are found in the average science fiction novel—and Herbert went to a great deal of trouble to see that they became more than concepts in the reader's mind. In the novel, the ideas are not presented in a linear manner, as they have been here, but are woven into the texture of plot and imagery and character. When the same idea is shown again and again in many different forms—as with the "superhero" concept—it begins to take on a life independent of any of them.
Herbert is also a master of the use of obscurity and shadow in lending depth to a novel. Dune has been so often praised for its fullness of detail that it is easy to overlook the fascination of what has been left out. Certain ideas or scenes that were crucial at one point in the development of the story later dropped out, leaving mysterious signs in the way others are handled. Other significant pieces of background were left deliberately unfinished, to draw the reader's attention deeper into the story and to keep him involved long after it was over…. Herbert is endlessly willing to hint, but not to explain. If, as a result, there are ideas that seem to hang unsupported, this only lends fire to the reader's conviction that it is a real world he is exploring, with mysteries that have defied even the author. (pp. 52-3)
Herbert is convinced that the sound of a passage is subconsciously reconstructed by the reader even though he reads silently, and furthermore, that it has a powerful unconscious effect. As a result, he wrote a great many crucial passages in the book as poetry—sonnets, haiku, and many other different forms depending on the mood—and then concealed them in the prose. On a larger scale, he very carefully controlled the pacing of the book to underscore the sexual nature of the jihad. The ending of Dune is a tour-de-force, in which action, character, and themes are brought to an explosive climax. Literally. Herbert admits:
It's a coital rhythm. Very slow pace, increasing all the way through. And when you get to the ending, I chopped it at a non-breaking point, so that the person reading skids out of the story, trailing bits of it with him.
The end result of all this art is a novel packed with ideas that cannot easily be shaken from the mind. This is more than good entertainment. Herbert has said that the function of science fiction is not always to predict the future but sometimes to prevent it. Many of the features of the superhero mystique that he unveils in Dune haunt our own culture. By increasing our awareness of a problem, science fiction can be a powerful tool for change. When it reaches the subconscious levels where the old, inappropriate response patterns are rooted, as Dune so clearly does, it goes beyond being even a cautionary fable and becomes, in Herbert's own words, a "training manual for consciousness." (p. 54-5)
Timothy O'Reilly, "From Concept to Fable: The Evolution of Frank Herbert's 'Dune'," in Critical Encounters: Writers and Themes in Science Fiction, edited by Dick Riley (copyright © 1978 by Frederick Ungar Publishing Co., Inc.), Ungar, 1978, pp. 41-55.
Get Ahead with eNotes
Start your 48-hour free trial to access everything you need to rise to the top of the class. Enjoy expert answers and study guides ad-free and take your learning to the next level.
Already a member? Log in here.