we have nothing to fear but... hmm

I first read Dune in high school, near the end of my science fiction phase, and while I didn't love it, there was something about it that interested me. Yes, it was maybe the first time that a popular novel dealt with the idea of ecological process, that one change in an environment could affect so much else around it, and that was cool. And the long view of history that the novel laid out was also appealing to someone who loved the Foundation trilogy and the stories from Heinlein's Future History.

But not a lot really stuck with me, in spite of the fact that I've re-read it a couple of times since. It's ponderous and overblown and the characters are as two-dimensional as Flatland. (It doesn't help that the film version is awful; I think David Lynch intentionally tanked it simply to get Blue Velvet made.) With hundreds of untouched books in my house, Dune isn't on my list to reread again.

But goofily, one flat and unremarkable sentence from the thing has actually stayed in my mind over the years. It occurs when Paul Atreides is duelling or fighting or something (it's just not worth my time to look up) and he starts to panic, only to remember the Bene Gesserit language his mother has taught him:

"Fear is the mind killer."

I know it's not a compelling thought; and as a sentence it just lays there. But, when you're starting to panic, about to, say, go into a client meeting that could easily go very badly, it's been for me a very handy thing to remember. Retaining your ability to think when you're presenting (or being chastised or negotiating) is absolutely vital, especially when you're someone like me who has from day one had to fight an innate desire to simply push the work across the table, say "like it?" then run like hell.

The fear never goes away; not for me, not when I'm about to present. But you have to be able to function in spite of it, maybe even with it, and maybe even use the fear to your advantage.

More on this next time maybe...

Comments

[Dan Gaede]

I seriously though I was the only one nerdy enough to run the Bene Gesserit mantra through my head when I'm in a particularly tight situation. I've been doing it for years.

And for the record, I don't think Dune is nearly as terrible as you make it sound. Every Dune afterwards, yes, but not the first one. Then again, I was young and used to think Michael Chrichton was a good writer.

I'll stop digging that hole now.

[Scott]

Glad I can keep you company on the nerd front, Dan. Always happy to help.

As for Dune's place in the pantheon, so to speak, for me it comes down to depth in the way that any fiction should have depth -- the characters should live for you. And in Dune they don't; they're cardboard cutouts that Herbert moves around to tell a "bigger" story. Which isn't a flaw that's unique to Herbert, of course; it's reflective of a lot of science fiction (and mysteries, and westerns) where the idea or the plot is most important for the author. And in Dune it is after all a cool idea...