Of Deserts and Daughters

 

My daughter and I outside the showing of Dune

A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct.  This every sister of the Bene Gesserit knows.  To begin your study of the life of Muad'Dib, then, take care that you first place him in his time:  born in the 57th year of Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV.  And take the most special care that you locate Muad'Dib in his place:  the planet Arrakis.  Do not be deceived by the fact that he was born on Caladan and lived his first fifteen years there.  Arrakis, the planet known as Dune, is forever his place.

So begins one of the greatest science fiction series of all time.  Frank Herbert published Dune, the first novel of his ecological space epic, in 1965, and I first became aware of it nearly twenty years later when it was made into a movie for release in December of 1984.  Although that movie was disowned by its own director, David Lynch, and earned less in box office sales than it took to make, it made me want to read the novel, which I purchased just a few weeks later in January of 1985.

My well worn copy of Dune

To say that I devoured that book would be an understatement, for I am not sure if I have ever read a novel more quickly.  By the end of July in 1985, I had finished the first five in the series (Dune, Dune Messiah, Children of Dune, God Emperor of Dune, and Heretics of Dune).  I have always preferred science fiction to fantasy novels, although both genres are often grouped together in bookstores, and the Dune series captured my imagination like no other.

I was excited when I learned that a new film version was coming out in 2021, but even more so when my daughter indicated her desire to see it.  She has had an interest in space since attending Space Camp several years ago, and is now beginning to sharpen that interest as she considers plans for college.  Whether or not she ends up pursuing astronautical engineering, which at the moment is at the top of her list, remains to be seen, but getting to watch a new film version of one my favorite novels with my daughter was not something this dad could pass up.

Selfies were not an option when I saw the first Dune movie in 1984!

I did my best to restrain myself from whispering to her various details during the movie, although I wasn't always successful, and I thrilled to scenes and even whole bits of dialogue that leapt from the book's pages directly to the silver screen.  Even with a run time of two hours and 35 minutes, it does not present all of that first novel and tantalizingly leaves us wanting more when it ends.  At least, I wanted more, but what did my sixteen year old daughter think?  I could hardly wait to ask.

As we left the theatre, I inquired what she thought of it, bracing myself for a tepid reaction.  Just because I had been enamored of the original film back in '84 and even more so of the novels did not mean that she would be as taken as I was.  What a pleasant surprise I received when she said that she really liked it.  I confirmed with, "Really?  You really liked it?"  To this she replied that it was one of the best movies she had seen.  She then began asking questions about some of the characters, and I shared more of the details on the drive home that I had been bursting to share during the movie.  I ended by telling her that I had all the Dune novels in one of our bookcases and that she could borrow them whenever she liked.

There were fans of the novel who despised the 1984 film, and that has been the reaction for many book fans when a favorite tale has made its way to the big screen.  Somehow, the cinematic renderings do not always capture all the vivid details that good authors evoke in their readers' minds.  And yet, a film, even one of less than great cinematic quality, can prompt people to seek out the novel on which it was based, and as far as I am concerned, that is worth the price of admission.  A treat even bigger for me than a bucket of popcorn was getting to share this particular cinematic/literary experience with my daughter.