“Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. But the real universe is always one step beyond logic.”

Along the coastline of Florence, Oregon, blankets of sand unfurl across the landscape, purling first at the contact of vegetations, before swallowing them whole. Ammunition for the struggle is supplied by the winds, unending in supply. Against the rolling dunes, humans leverage their access to beach grass. It is planted in swaths, with the hope that their deep roots would forestall the ever-encroaching sand. 

Such was the scene that fascinated writer Franz Herbert in 1957 and inspired the setting of the science fiction classic, Dune. For Herbert, the Oregon dunes were realized in the faraway planet of Arrakis, a barren desert planet where natural precipitation is absent. But despite its vicious ecology, Arrakis stands as the sole source in the galaxy for the Spice Melange— a narcotic upon which all commerce and technology are based. The novel portrays the complex interrelationships between politics and economics, with enthralling power and control hanging in the balance.  

Nearly sixty years later, Franz Herbert’s Dune remains a landmark in literature. The novel is one of the first of its genre to incorporate geopolitics, ecology, and economics into a conceptualized universe. Rather than technology driving the central conflict— characteristic of most sci-fi works—the politics of humanity is placed at the forefront. 

When first introduced to Dune, it was described to me as “Lord of the Rings but sci-fi”. With that information, I immediately placed a hold on the book, ready to lose myself in a fantastical adventure of some sort, where the main character, Paul Atreides, would most certainly be an appealing protagonist to follow. Hardly past the first chapter, that belief was proved unarguably false. Whereas Lord of the Rings is a tight-knit, fantasy adventure, founded on a dichotomy between good and evil, Dune tells a slow-paced tale of a violent struggle for power, one threaded with moral ambiguity. Herbert does not deal with heroes. 

Dune is one such novel whose style and plot cannot quite be understood with a simple Google search. Perhaps the aptest comparison, if you would like to gain a sense of what is in store, is to A Song of Ice and Fire. To survive the galaxy, Herbert’s characters must understand how to play the apathetic game of politics. 

Dune is not a book for everyone. But regardless, I urge you to add it to your list. Once given the chance, Herbert’s intricate universe will surely consume you whole, like the rolling dunes of Arrakis.