The Harmful Continued Cultural Relevance of Dune

I don’t like Frank Herbert’s Dune. If you’ve read anything I’ve written about the movies or my previous post about disliking Dune, you know this already. In fact, if you just want my general thoughts about the book, you should read my post about my dislike for Herbert’s first novel and leave it at that. This post is a much more specific discussion of what I disliked, why I disliked it, and why I think Dune should be left to collect dust in the period of history in which it was first published.

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The Dune Movies Would Be Better If They Were Shorter

I do not normally consider time wasted so long as it didn’t have a negative impact on my life. Sure, doing my taxes isn’t fun and is usually very stressful because I get a clear picture of how much debt I still have, but it’s not a waste of my time. Cleaning my apartment isn’t a waste of my time. Commuting isn’t a waste of my time. Writing detailed notes to myself about things I’ll definitely remember isn’t even a waste of my time. The two Dune movies, though, are definitely a waste of my time. I didn’t dislike them so much that I consider all five and a half hours I’ve spent watching them both a full waste of my time, but it’s difficult to feel like they were anything but that when each of them was at least an hour too long. I think they could have trimmed at least that much out and wound up with a pair of movies that would have been better for it. I mean, there were definitely some enjoyable bits in both of those movies (way more than in the books, my review of which is going to take a while longer to write since I don’t feel particularly motivated to write more about it than I already have even if I feel like it would do me some good to get the thoughts out of my head and written down somewhere) but as I only slightly jokingly told a coworker today, Zendaya can’t carry a movie that big all on her own.

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I Don’t Dislike Many Books, But I Definitely Don’t Like Dune

Due to a combination of luck, limited new book selection, and having trusted sources for new book recommendations, it has been a long time since I read a book and was left with the impression that it was, as a whole, a swing and a miss. I mean, I wasn’t a huge fan of Harrow The Ninth, but I still enjoyed the book enough that I wouldn’t even call it a foul ball. It just wasn’t the home run I was expecting after reading the first book in the series. Pretty much everything else I’ve read over the last few years was a good choice, even if it gave me complex feelings, and I’m struggling to remember the last time I just did not like a book I’d picked up to read other than the notable exception of when I tried to force myself to read the Game of Thrones Series and literally threw one of the books away from me when I got to the Red Wedding bit because I was sick and tired of the constant “every decent person gets killed because ninety-nine percent of the world’s population are total bastards who will kill you given a chance and even the most pitiful motive.” I’m not a picky reader, by any means, nor do I restrict myself to only what I know I like, but I tend to wait for something to be recommended or look for certain signs in reviews before choosing to invest my time and that means I rarely spend my time on a book that I genuinely dislike.

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