Dune Messiah: A Tragedy of Mortality

[The Isochronism he/him]

"We have eternity, beloved."

I've heard so many people talk about the two kinds of writers, that my instinct is to instantly tune them out once they begin to do so, so I'm going to ask you all to stick with me for a second regardless. There are discovery writers, (like Dan Wells) and outliners (like Brandon Sanderson.) The discovery writers write books about unique and realistic characters, each of which boldly forges their own story. Outliners write beautifully structured stories with strong themes and epic endings. Both styles of writing have merit, but the point of this isn't to talk about writing. The interesting thing about these two categories, is that they don't just belong to writers. In fact, they belong to all of us.

Let's back up. I recently finished one of the greatest books I've ever read. It was the second part of a two part epic, and if nothing else I hope I can convince you by the end of this to pick up that book. The book is "Dune: Messiah." It was a masterpiece. I enjoyed reading it, and I enjoyed the exploration of the characters and the intricate plot, but since I finished that book I haven't been able to get it out of my head. Its deep themes and explorations of layered characters astounded me in a way nothing has for a very long time.

And yet... my opinion is not the most common one. Dune will always be one of the most influential books in science fiction history. An epic that has been cited multiple times as the best selling Science Fiction novel, and a novel called by many as the greatest book of all time. Unfortunately, its sequel, Dune: Messiah will never be as widely loved. In the Forward to Dune: Messiah, Brian Herbert recounts the story of the book’s early failure. Before being published, it ran in installments in the science fiction magazine Galaxy. Dune Messiah was named “disappointment of the year,” and was rejected by multiple publishers who said their readers wanted stories about heroes accomplishing great feats, he said, not stories of protagonists with “clay feet.”

I've spent the last weeks wondering why this book left such a big effect on me, while failing to impress so many others. Perhaps it's because Dune: Messiah is a tragedy, about a hero's fall into corruption. Perhaps it's because the role model everyone wanted to admire was proven to be just as human as the rest of us. Perhaps those early readers just couldn't identify with the character in this book. But I think my enjoyment all comes down to one quote, which I will remember forever.

This quote, one of the last things ever said by the hero of the book, Paul Maud'Dib begins: "There are some things no man can bear." He doesn't just say these words, he knows them. He knows them because he's lost everything. Everything short of himself. But it's more than the loss that haunts him, it's the fact that he could have prevented all of it. He's an oracle, who can see the future and who knows what of the many possible timelines is most dangerous. He's seen his own fall, and he's watched everything he loves crumble. And then he spends the entire book trying to find another way, only to realize how far he would have to fall to preserve the things he loves. The emperor he replaced, a man he hated, is more like Paul than Paul ever wanted him to be. He knows the things that no man can bear. 

"There are some things no man can bear. I meddled in every possible future I could create, until finally, they created me." -Paul

At first glance, Dune and its sequel are about the rise and fall of a god. A messiah who ascends to a throne he could never hope to bear, and is corrupted by the power he chose to take. But what if this story was never about an immortal god? What if it's not about proving that heroes don't exist, and that anyone can be corrupted? What if, instead, it's the story of a man. A mortal who makes imperfect choices when trying to create his own future. A man who could never live up to the image people made for him. A human, who fails again, and again, and again. 

There are two types of writers, outliners, and discovery writers, but like all stereotypes, nobody perfectly fits in to either. Every outliner has moments where they change the story on a whim, and every discovery writer has plans and ideas about the direction of the story. That's doubly true in life. Some of us are more outliners, planning our lives and thinking about our futures, while some of us lean toward discovery writing, where we live life one day at a time. 

I've always been an outliner, committed to making sure every detail of my books makes sense before I ever start to write them. But I'm not just an outliner in writing, I'm also an outliner in life. There was a time when I had my whole life planned out for me. I knew the person I was in love with, I knew the career I would pursue, I knew the college I would attend, and I knew that the outline for my life was flawless. At least... that's what I thought at first. But I had to believe my outline was perfect, because it was the only thing in the world that made my life worth living. And my greatest fear? "What if I'm wrong? What if my plan isn't enough? What will I have left?" 

And so when I faced my first heartbreak, my outline was shattered forever. I was rejected by the girl I loved. My perfect novella, submitted to a prestigious writing contest, was rejected. My college application was rejected. And I was left feeling more lost, and more lonely than I ever have before. And I knew exactly what Paul Atreides meant when he said "There are some things no man can bear." And... I'm not the only one.

There are many writers in this community, so I suspect many of you know how much time and effort it takes to write a book. I've found that very few writers see hypothetical wealth and fame as a good enough incentive to actually write a book. The amount of time and effort you are forced to pour into a novel you're trying to create is astounding. And so I've never been able to write a book unless there's something deep and powerful, intimately personal, that the book means to me. I suspect that Dune: Messiah meant something just as deep to Frank Herbert, the author.

Perhaps Dune was never the story of a God, but the story of a man. Not an immortal hero that could never exist, but a man that was very real. A man named Frank Herbert. Someone who made imperfect choices when trying to create his own future. A man who could never live up to the image people made for him. A human, who fails again, and again, and again. I think Frank Herbert's desperation can be summed up with another quote from Dune: Messiah, this one spoken by Paul's sister, a girl named Alia. "I didn’t want to be different," she says. "I wanted to be able to laugh, But I’m sister to an emperor that is worshiped as a God. I don't want to be part of history, I just want to be loved . . . and to love."

The forward to Dune says: "After the Dune series became wildly popular, many fans began to consider Frank Herbert in a light that he had not sought and which he did not appreciate. In one description of him, he was referred to as “a guru of science fiction.” Others depicted him in heroic terms. To counter this, in remarks that were consistent with his Paul Atreides characterization, Frank Herbert told interviewers that he did not want to be considered a hero, and he sometimes said to them, with disarming humility, “I’m nobody.”"

And that is the tragedy of Dune: Messiah. It's a tragedy of mortality. We all want there to be someone out there who knows what's going on. Some immortal guru who knows what to do, who we can look up to. A man like Paul Maud'Dib, or even Frank Herbert. And there is something crushing about finding out that they're just as human as we are. But Messiah's message is also a hopeful one, and it's that hope that so many people miss when reading that book. We will never be able to create a perfect future for ourselves, but the future, whatever it is, will create us. Success is more than a trophy or an award. It's more than a college admission letter. It's a process, to becoming someone you can respect. 

There was a time when I asked myself "What if I'm wrong? What if my perfect outline shatters? What will remain? 

I was wrong. I watched my perfect outline shatter, and all that remained was me. It was those failures that made me who I am today. Not someone perfect, who never questions themselves, or makes imperfect choices, but a human who I can respect. I began this essay with something Paul says to the woman he loves, telling her before her death that they have eternity. Her response, is strikingly similar to what I would have said.

"You may have eternity. I have only now."

Paul's response is simple. "But this is eternity."

In that sense, we are all immortals. In another, we are all humans with imperfect outlines for our lives. And that is the point of Dune: Messiah. That is why this book had such a huge impact on me, and why I wanted to write this lengthy essay about the story. I know most of you won't have the time or interest to read this, but if you do I want to hear your thoughts too. I know it's rare and weird for people to post topics like this one, but I felt like I needed to write this. Dune: Messiah is the perfect example of a story done right, and I hope that that amazing book will mean something to you if you read it. And I hope that this essay of my compiled thoughts on Dune: Messiah means something to you as well, whether you've read the book or not. But even if not, I loved writing this, and if you guys are interested maybe I'll write more of these for other stories. And thank you so much for any of you who took the time to read the ramblings of a bored author. Thank you for creating a community I feel like I can talk to without being shot down. I love you guys.

[Dalinar_Kholin]

I still prefer Dune to Dune:Messiah, but I definitely appreciate the latter more after reading this.

[The Isochronism he/him]

10 hours ago, Dalinar_Kholin said:

I still prefer Dune to Dune:Messiah, but I definitely appreciate the latter more after reading this.

That was the hope, thank you for taking the time to read that! 

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood he/him]

The first time I finished Dune: Messiah, I looked at the cover for a moment, then I set it down and said, "What a waste of time, that was a bunch of garbage."

Then, a few months later, I finished Dune for like the third time and decided to give it another go. And I realized what a masterpiece it was.

The story is, as you say in your essay, about human fallibility and how everyone is mortal. It's about how sometimes there are things that we just can't do. Paul Atreides is a character with complex motivations, goals, wants, needs, failings, triumphs, corruption and so much more.

Messiah is the story of a complex figure, given a mythological view by the public eye because of what he did. It's the story of someone painted as a hero, a legend given life, who doesn't want to be the hero, someone who wants to be his own man. The future molds him, the future is trying to shape him into a God who can lead humanity on the Golden Path to a greater existence. But, in the end, our tragic hero realizes his own faults and knows that he cannot do what is asked of him. And, so, he goes on the path to where someone else can do what he cannot. Where he can do his own thing at his own pace. He loses so much in the process, but he gains what he wanted in the end. 

Paul Atreides, in rebelling from that future, great and good at the end as it is, gets what he wants and needs for himself. He gets to do his own thing, pave his own path, leave behind the darkness and corruption necessary to bring about the good of mankind.

Some say that he is a coward for doing this. I both agree and disagree. 

On the one hand, Paul Atreides is selfish in abandoning this path. But, on the other, this is a very human thing to do. It helps paint the picture that the author perhaps wanted to portray. That picture that heroes aren't perfect people, that everyone makes mistakes and that we have to know when we can't do what we're asked to do and know when to step aside and let someone stronger take the lead. 

Paul Atreides, despite how much he doesn't want the title, is a hero.

Once the responsibilities for leading the Golden Path passed from him, only Paul remained. Just Paul. Simply...

Paul.

And, so, I end this response to your wonderful essay about an even more wonderful book with this:

Dune: Messiah is a story about what it means to be human. And that, in and of itself, makes it the most relatable of the Dune Chronicles that I've read. 

[The Isochronism he/him]

26 minutes ago, Thaidakar the Ghostblood said:

The first time I finished Dune: Messiah, I looked at the cover for a moment, then I set it down and said, "What a waste of time, that was a bunch of garbage."

Then, a few months later, I finished Dune for like the third time and decided to give it another go. And I realized what a masterpiece it was.

The story is, as you say in your essay, about human fallibility and how everyone is mortal. It's about how sometimes there are things that we just can't do. Paul Atreides is a character with complex motivations, goals, wants, needs, failings, triumphs, corruption and so much more.

Messiah is the story of a complex figure, given a mythological view by the public eye because of what he did. It's the story of someone painted as a hero, a legend given life, who doesn't want to be the hero, someone who wants to be his own man. The future molds him, the future is trying to shape him into a God who can lead humanity on the Golden Path to a greater existence. But, in the end, our tragic hero realizes his own faults and knows that he cannot do what is asked of him. And, so, he goes on the path to where someone else can do what he cannot. Where he can do his own thing at his own pace. He loses so much in the process, but he gains what he wanted in the end. 

Paul Atreides, in rebelling from that future, great and good at the end as it is, gets what he wants and needs for himself. He gets to do his own thing, pave his own path, leave behind the darkness and corruption necessary to bring about the good of mankind.

Some say that he is a coward for doing this. I both agree and disagree. 

On the one hand, Paul Atreides is selfish in abandoning this path. But, on the other, this is a very human thing to do. It helps paint the picture that the author perhaps wanted to portray. That picture that heroes aren't perfect people, that everyone makes mistakes and that we have to know when we can't do what we're asked to do and know when to step aside and let someone stronger take the lead. 

Paul Atreides, despite how much he doesn't want the title, is a hero.

Once the responsibilities for leading the Golden Path passed from him, only Paul remained. Just Paul. Simply...

Paul.

And, so, I end this response to your wonderful essay about an even more wonderful book with this:

Dune: Messiah is a story about what it means to be human. And that, in and of itself, makes it the most relatable of the Dune Chronicles that I've read. 

Thank you so much, it really feels good to hear that it was worth writing. I also love what you said about Paul getting what he wants in the end. Due to the length of the essay, I didn't include another of my favorite quotes, which says at the end "We say that Maud'Dib has gone to walk in a land without footprints." In fremen culture, footprints are a guide to the future. If you want to find other fremen, or water, or anything else, you follow the footprints of those that came before you. In this "land without footprints" paul gets the thing that Alia could never have. He gets to be forgotten. He gets to walk without leaving behind an image that nobody can fully understand. 

I think it's interesting that in today's world we're more interested in "footprints" then we are in stories. We want to see this image of people, good or bad, what they did for the world, what they left behind, but so commonly we forget that we know nothing about who they truly are. We see irredeemable villains instead of people, and infalible heros instead of mortals. We condemn our ancestors for things they did without even knowing they were wrong, and someday we will be condemned too for the footprints we leave behind. There are times when I wish we could all have the luxury of walking in a land without footprints.

[coopereudnvdgshns]

Loved your thoughts. I loved Messiah and felt it's very underated, nice to see someone else who enjoyes it as well. Thaidakar the Ghostblood, read your reply and wanted to comment. Paul's son, in books 3 and 4, saw the golden path like his father but, instead of "cowardly" turning away from it, embraced it and followed the path, losing his humanity in the process. However, he was hated for this and eventually overthrown. This makes him stronger than Paul and shows that heros can make mistakes, while people we view as bad or evil are misunderstood in their intentions.