Children of Dune: Deluxe Edition: 3 Hardcover – 4 April 2023

There’s a lot about Frank Herbert’s writing that’s really grown on me as I’ve continued through the series. As a writer who finds it difficult to fill space without dialogue, I am constantly in awe of writers such as Herbert (and Robert Jordan, and Ursula K Le Guin, etc…) who can fill out thousands of words - pages and pages - with character introspection and movement through the scene with very little dialogue at all - especially when it’s paired with a fairly conservative amount of description (Robert Jordan wasn’t very good at this bit - nor was Tolkien). I’ve also come to appreciate Herbert’s dropping of the superfluous “and” in his prose; it’s surprising how cutting out that one word speeds along an action sentence, jarring as it is at first. Though, I’m still in two minds about the deep philosophising: I love it because it feels like the author is having a lot of fun going in-depth about the heady concepts and themes of the book, and often they’re the kind that stick in the mind long after reading and unconsciously unpack themselves as time goes on. But I equally hate it because I barely understand the metaphors at the time of reading, and it makes me feel stupid.I’ve heard from many people that the Dune Saga gets weird, and here in Children of Dune really is where that begins. We have children who are not children - the pre-born, filled with the genetic memories of their entire ancestry - and Herbert really goes to town exploring the implications of that setup on the human psyche. One of the great things about sci-fi is how authors will often invent a topic that seems, on the surface, to be a benefit (how often do we say “if only I had known then what I know now”? A vague yearning to go back to a younger time in our lives but retain the maturity we’ve gained since, so we may make better decisions), and then probe them for all the ways in which they can be utterly terrible things. Pre-birth is something that is introduced at the end of Dune and sort of appears in Dune Messiah with Paul’s sister, Alia. But Children of Dune is where the concept really gets a thorough and rigorous examination. Through Alia, Herbert examines the pitfalls, and through Leto and Ghanima, the possible solutions to avoiding those pitfalls. It’s really very fascinating - especially as it gets incredibly strange towards the end.The plot is highly engaging and enjoyable. As expected of Dune at this point, there’s a lot of intricate political manoeuvring and court intrigue - unique assassination plots, and feints within feints within feints. We see Alia’s slow descent into madness, and the utter chaos that ensues as she almost destroys her brother’s empire from within. We also see Leto and Ghanima constantly underestimated, since they’re bodily nine-year-olds with minds that reach back tens of thousands of years. And we see a lot about the corruption of religion and dilution of core doctrines. And it’s all set against a backdrop of the misguided ecological rejuvenation of Arrakis. I actually felt a deep aching sadness about this, because it was something of Liet Kynes’s legacy from the first book, and to see it turn out to be a huge problem is somewhat upsetting. But alas, Arrakis must remain Dune if humanity is to continue traversing the galaxy.There’s not a great many new characters this time around (technically). With the exception of side characters, and the Corrino heirs, most of the others are present in the previous two books, like Alia, Stilgar, Jessica, Leto and Ghanima (though they were only mentioned briefly at the end of Messiah), Duncan Idaho and Gurney Halleck. Each one’s continued development is excellent, in particular, Stilgar. In my review of Messiah, I bemoaned the way that Stilgar transformed from intimidating, commanding Fremen leader into Paul’s lapdog, but here in Children of Dune we see him reclaim his former mojo and it’s great. I loved the storyline of the enigmatic Preacher as well; so much uncertainty and mystery surrounding him, and it was very satisfying to find out his true identity. Leto and Ghanima were fantastic characters, but I did feel that Ghanima got the short shrift in favour of her brother. There was more that could have been done with her, as she turns almost passive in the latter half of the book. Farad’n Corrino was pretty refreshing in his earnestness - I really liked his arc and how it concluded. I think generally all the characters were on top form throughout.The pacing is good. Chapters vary in length quite a bit, and there’s a lot of places in which Herbert takes substantial space going through the intricate philosophies at play, but it never felt like it dragged too much. I think this might be more because I’m used to the writing style at this point, because it can be incredibly dense at times.Now, the ending. Without going into spoiler territory, it was a bit mind-blowing in its weirdness. I really enjoyed the blend of action with novel usages of concepts Herbert primed us for in the previous books, like the Bene Gesserit ability to manipulate the chemical makeup of their bodies to become Reverend Mothers, or to nullify poisons etc… Let’s just say it got turned up to eleven here! And I am very intrigued to see where this goes with the next book, God Emperor of Dune. I know a little bit about that one already, and I’m told it’s the peak of weirdness for the series. I’m thoroughly looking forward to it.So, I highly recommend going ahead and picking up Herbert’s original Dune Saga at this point. It’s a wild ride, and well deserves the veneration it receives in my opinion.

I loved the first Dune novel, liked the second, Dune Messiah not quite as much, and as to the third, Children of Dune—probably about as much as the second.Having lost their mother Chani to death and their father Paul Muad’Dib Atreides to the desert, twins Leto and Ghanima have been raised by their aunt, Alia, who rules as Regent until they attain adulthood. It’s clear that, even in this fictional world set thousands—millions?—of years in the future, appearance still rules over all else, because although the nine-year-old bodies of the twins contain the memories of every ancestor who went before them, they’re still treated according to their physical age. They’re ‘pre-born,’ as is Alia—and it’s a slippery and dangerous slope, as can be seen from their aunt, who’s taken a wrong road and made disastrous use of the ancestral ghosts contained within her.It's not just following in her erroneous footsteps that the twins need to avoid, but the attempts made on their lives by the Princess Wensicia. Sister to Irulan and daughter to Shaddam IV—the emperor deposed by Paul Atreides, she’s nominal head to House Corrino, until her son Farad’n is fully of age—and she has a burning desire to see him become Emperor Farad’n I. In addition, there are serious issues now surrounding the steady but gradual greening-over of the formerly desert planet Arrakis which, although improving the planet in one way, is having a negative effect in that it’s killing off the sandworms and hence the production of spice from which the planet earns its revenue.The twins have their work cut out for them then, in terms of making it to adulthood and attaining the throne for which they’re destined. The odds don’t look good, but at least they can draw on their pre-born powers, if only they go about it in the right way. There are plots within plots, with Jessica, Gurney Halleck, Duncan Idaho, Stilgar and the mysterious Preacher all playing their parts, along with a wealth of minor characters.It's for the most part a text into which much thought has gone, and containing well-fleshed-out characters—with the interesting notion that change is not always for the better in terms of the adjustments made to Arrakis. It’s just as well that Liet Kynes isn’t around to see that his ecological dream is becoming a nightmare. Some—much—of the philosophy went over my head, creating a tendency to flick through it at speed to get back to the action.As to the ending. I’d been told by a friend that she’d hadn’t read the third book but hadn’t wanted to go any further as it ‘got too weird’ at this point. Having read it, I can see what she meant—but as I bought the entire set for a bargain price a while ago I don’t have that option. God Emperor of Dune here I come. Abandon hope all ye who enter here? Let’s see …

I thoroughly enjoyed Children of Dune, especially after Dune Messiah left me yearning for more due to it being all too brief.However the Gollancz edition shown here is marred by a poor typeset (letters seem to be stuttered horizontally) and a large number of spelling errors which occur frequently, sometimes in the same sentence.This leads to such faults as main character Leto being referred to as letoh or letoe in some sentences. A minor quibble I am sure but one which the publisher could have resolved before publication.Sadly it appears Gollancz have the rights to the remaining novels and I only hope they are better proof read. Herbert's majestic epic deserves more than a tawdry cheap copy run.

I have been reading these series of dune books and love them