Dune: House Atreides
A novel by Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson

$45.95. That's what I paid. Okay, so that was in Australian dollars -- I can't help it, me being Australian and all -- but still. It's a lot of money to pay for the privilege of reading such an amazingly dull and idiotic disappointment.

The presence of the name Kevin J. Anderson on the front cover should have warned me off -- the man just cannot write and I don't know who the hell told him that he can -- but having read a few Brian Herbert books, I at least expected some kind of... something. Some kind of Dune-ness. I at least expected to get the impression that the authors of this book had actually read and absorbed the essence of Dune -- maybe even a sequel or two. But, alas, it was not to be. Brian Herbert, no doubt setting out to prove some kind of Freudian theory about fathers and sons that I fortunately have no need to grasp (I'm having enough trouble with the concept that all women eventually become their mothers -- yikes!), has gone ahead and produced an entirely unworthy prequel to the most successful Science Fiction book ever. Way to show Daddy who's boss.

Oh, I'm just bitter. I know this. But I loved Dune, and was thoroughly engrossed with the series for at least the first, oh, dozen books or so. And the chance to actually be there, to be able to experience the foundation of the story when the events were set in motion, was supposed to be something of a highlight of my month (the curse of the life-less.) And what did I get? Over 600 pages of a thinly-veiled brain-storming session. It was like they said: "hey, let's do this. And then at some point they can do something else. Hey, we'll have Harkonnen be gullible, and then we'll have Leto be clever... you know what? We could do it over and over again and never have one chapter follow on from the next.

"And then, oh, I know what will fill some pages! 'Previously, in this book' recaps at the beginning of practically each chapter!" (Just in case the readers weren't keeping up with the blazingly laborious, yet perplexing, plot developments.) Plot developments that I absolutely refuse to go into, on principle, because a) they barely warrant the word and b) I don't want that uncontrollable sobbing to start again.

Oh, man, the characters. Or, more specifically, the lack of any female characters of any significance. Oh, no doubt they'll turn up in the book's projected sequels (sequels to the prequel -- my head hurts), since all of the characters in Dune must have had mothers at some point. And those sequels! I don't know if there is anything, just at this moment, liable to depress me more.

I concede that I might possibly have considered this book in a kinder light had I bought it for, say, fifteen dollars in the paperback, or from the bargain bin which is its inevitable destination. Then I might have been merely annoyed at the tremendous waste of valuable reading time it was; time that would have been better spent reading, say, Piers Anthony's latest ridiculousness, or a book with a dragon on the cover -- Hell, even a Gor novel. But the money, man, the money. It may be funny in a rich man's world, but in mine... well, actually, it is pretty hilarious. Hilarious that having spent all that money on the Goddamn House Atreides -- which, despite all claims to the contrary, was just plain boring -- I will undoubtedly go out and buy those prequel sequels as soon as they are released, just so I make sure I don't miss anything that might happen.

And do you have any idea what that is going to cost me?

-- Rachel Hyland

Dune: House Atreides, published by Bantam Books, is currently available in paperback.

We welcome your comments on The 11th Hour and this review. Please send letters to: letters@the11thhour.com