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76 of 96 people found the following review helpful:
2.0 out of 5 stars
A Major Error Per Chapter, January 6, 2004
Dune: House Atreides is the first in the expansions to the Dune legacy created by Frank Herbert, this novel is set approximately 45 years prior to the first Dune novel written in 1963. Written by Brian Herbert, the son of the author of Dune, with co-writer Kevin J. Anderson, the duo has huge footsteps in which to follow. The novel takes us through the lives of the young Leto Atreides the man who would soon be Duke Leto and father to Muad'Dib, Duncan Idaho and his escape from the Harkonnen slave pits, Baron Harkonnen's early dealings with the planet Arrakis and his subsequent siring of Lady Jessica, Shaddam Corrino and his ascendancy to the emperor's throne with the help of childhood friend Hasmir Fenring, Thufir Hawat, and the original planetologist assigned to Arrakis by the Emperor Elrood, Pardo Kynes. Now if that looks like a mouthful, even to a seasoned Dune fanatic, wait till you try to chew on all of the additional characters that these key players meet and interact with. It's enough to make your head spin. When you mash all of these plotlines together into one novel like this (and the first in a trilogy, so you know that the next two will be more of the same characters and certainly an equal number of new characters) you are left with a meal consisting of delicately sipping a vintage wine in between bites of chili-cheese fries. The chapters get shorter and shorter as the book progresses and end up more akin to a few frames of an after-school cartoon rather than something worth reading, pondering, digesting, and perhaps re-reading again someday. Nope. One read through on this book and you will probably need to brush your teeth just to get the bad taste out of your mouth. The entire Pardo Kynes story simply does not belong in this novel. It is little more than a fleshed out version of Appendix One from Dune, and Frank Herbert wrote a more compelling version in 6 or 7 pages than son Herbert and co-writer Anderson do with a dozen chapters. Pluck this plotline out of this book altogether and make it a smaller, separate book of its own. It's presence here shows us how little these two really know about storytelling. For those of us who have been Dune fanatics for any portion of the past 3-1/2 decades, we get to look forward do at least one major Duniverse error in each of these chapters, whether from the Baron's lean, muscular physique, to Duncan Idaho's curiously missing sister and absence of slave pits, to just about everyone and his brother being acquainted with the Bene Gesserit's breeding programs. Gone is the mystery of the Bene Gesserit, the origins of spice, and the inner workings of Ix. We even have Vladimir Harkonnen's suggested inclination toward boy sex toys (from Dune and Children of Dune) clearly laid out as no-holds-barred homosexuality. Makes you wonder how he is going to become the father of the future Jessica Atreides, hmmm? Well, never fear, but our wonderful Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohaim will find herself the future mother of Jessica through a surprising tryst with the Baron. OMG! Where did these boys miss the repeated references in the Dune chronicles to the multiple bastard children the Baron had by his reckless youthful adventures? The son Herbert insists that upon reading his father's notes, though, that the Baron is gay (not maybe even a little bi) and is forced to father this child (and another!) through a few weak plot points and manipulations. Wow! The imaginations of a pair of writers is limited by their extreme belief in polarities and simplicities. Every nuance is good/bad, straight/gay, obviously planned out and panned out. Every attempt at complexity can't escape the suffocating breath of complicated and contrived. If the reader wanted to scrutinize the text piece by piece, consider such timeless phrases as "by the saints and sinners" or "the work of Satan" or how about "stronger than adamantium." What, is this suddenly an X-Men novel? The inherent problem with any prequel, as clearly visible in the Star Wars prequels, is how to make use of the information that already exists in the later novels, and enhance it in the prequels, while not spelling out the details of what were surprises in the original series. If we know that Jessica is Baron Harkonnen's child, then where is the surprise upon reading Frank Herbert's Dune that the Baron is Paul's grandfather? Another problem with prequels, especially with decades between the actual writing of them, is to be careful not to introduce technology or advancements that would be inexplicably absent in the later novels or would give people an undue advantage if they were so readily available. Let's call into question these strange earplugs that Baron Harkonnen uses to make himself impervious to the Voice? You would think by the time of Dune, in relation to this book, that everyone in court would have such earplugs to avoid manipulation by the Bene Gesserit. Of course what follows is sure to upset the Bene Gesserit fans: A Reverend Mother is stunned by the future equivalent of a tazer and then she is raped! Let's not even consider that some strange disappearing no-ship technology wanders into the Baron's hands. This would become real useful to wipe out a pesky Duke who took over Arrakis. Come on! Reality check! This book feels more like a color by numbers painting that a child could easily do, rather than a complex and intriguing work of art. The authors are trying to connect too many dots into one story, and they are winking at the readers repeatedly as they try to be clever with tying in as many Dune themes as possible, even themes that will not resurface for 4500 years in Heretics of Dune or Chapterhouse Dune, or more frighteningly, in the ever-present Dune 7 and 8 looming on the horizon...This reader is afraid to continue on to the next book, House Harkonnen...
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by Brian Herbert
by Brian Herbert
by Brian Herbert
by Frank Herbert
by Brian Herbert
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