When compared to the first Great Dune Trilogy, the second is equally backbreaking, doubly dense, and half as digestible. However, this doesn't make its stories any less compelling!
God Emperor of Dune starts us off after a large timeskip (4,000 years!). The first half is incredibly slow, as we become accustomed to this new world through the eyes of the titular emperor and his would-be subverters. This universe, and Arakis in particular, is unrecognisable, but we remain rooted in a familiar struggle: what should one do with all the power and knowledge of the universe? The answer seems to be: fall into a deep, paternal depression! The emperor has cultivated a distant love for humanity that depended on negation of his own humanity, that required him to die the death of prescience, and that understandably sucks. However, what also sucks is the overindulgence in this once interesting idea, and the arrogant, often didactic tone that the emperor book takes as a result. Siona is a river flowing through this otherwise dry story, acting out the reader's frustration and - in combination with other characters – making for incredibly exciting and moving points of tension. Ultimately, this first part of the second trilogy feels like a worthwhile exploration of the tensions between responsibility and freedom, made bearable by memorable characters. (3 stars)
Heretics of Dune adds yet another timeskip. Perhaps one too far, if you liked your Arrakis with all its syllables. Although we are happy to put the tyrant's world behind us for a moment, we are met with new characters and factions introduced so nonchalantly that I often caught myself flicking back and forth, asking, "Wait, have we already met them? What on Earth (or Rakkis, rather) is an honoured matre? And are they supposed to be a big deal or something? Ohhh.... right". Largely, the timeskip is welcome, and makes for an unfamiliarity that keeps us curious about the world we are reading about. Perhaps related to this is a reliance on flashbacks, in contrast to the flash-forward prescient dreams of previous instalments. Sadly, the readability of this instalment takes a big hit due to its non-linear storytelling. The temporal consistency, which I adored in the first trilogy (things happen as they happen, unless interrupted by a scene change as indicated by a break in the text), is completely thrown aside. Instead, we are presented with nested memories which are explored at length, only brought back to reality through the liberally utilised 'presently'. These recollections are helpful insofar as they help us understand how increasingly refined, complex characters come to make a difficult decision, or a subtle assessment, but, on top of the timeskip, new cast, and new political powers to become accustomed to/situated in, this makes for a high-effort read. As with God Emperor of Dune, Heretics' second half is where this instalment shines. The book returns to its original formula: political drama which unfolds in parallel and across multiple scenes/plots, superpowered leads that we can't help but root for (albeit with slight reservations). The last hundred pages of the book practically read themselves. (4 stars)
`Chapterhouse' completes the trilogy, with a subtlety that builds on all of the previous books to powerful effect. In fact, I would argue that, although the first 500 pages of the trilogy are a slog, they are worth reading if only to set the stage for this story. We begin not long after Heretics, following Odrade as she walks a fraught tightrope to the Bene Gesserit's future. By contrast to other (often overconfident) Dune leads, Odrade is made compelling by the transparency with which her hopes and fears are presented. Chapterhouse (the planet) also benefits from a complex portrayal. It offers our first real view of Bene Gesserit society: a planet defined by a religious chapter, moving as one organism, and yet somehow not a monoculture. The corpus of reverend mothers is a rich tapestry of temperaments, skills, hopes, and doubts. Further afield lies a shifting ecosystem, bringing into focus the fringes of its lay-society (I know how I would feel if I got displaced to make space for sandworms), while unruly acolytes and high ideals flesh out the vertical component of Gesserit life. Other characters make key contributions to the story: a few ghloas, Tleilaxu, and Matres drive things forward, but ultimately these points of stress only further highlight tensions between Odrade’s creativity and the sisterhood’s dogma, as the Bene Gesserit are confronted with a mirror in which they must reckon with their own history. But, the openness of all this complexity obscures any clear-cut decisions for readers — can we wholly trust Odrades's plan for Bene Gesserit 'survival'? In fact, what is her plan? Is it what I think it is? Oh, I don't think I agree with that…. This was a gem in the trilogy, nearly 5 stars had it not left me sour with an unsatisfying ending and underused characters —for example, Scytale, Sheeana, and particularly Teg 2.0. (4 stars)
“Some precious stones could be identified by their impurities” (Chapterhouse). In many ways, this trilogy shines precisely because of its flaws—its dull spots, slow starts (God Emperor), and unfulfilling endings (Chapterhouse). Yet against these small silhouettes shines the bright light of this second trilogy. At its best, this is Herbert as a master of linear storytelling, weaving multiple, increasingly converging threads to devastating effect. Getting to the end of this trilogy feels like coming back from a year abroad — wanting to tell everyone about friends I'll never see again, languages I no longer need to decode, and a sense of loss in saying goodbye — but I’m so glad I picked up my first Dune book last year. I can’t recommend this series enough.
(4 Stars)