Dave Itzkoff may actually be getting better at this reviewing science fiction thing:
Though there is ample evidence that a sizable audience still exists for “Dune,” Frank Herbert’s multivolume saga of the desert planet Arrakis, there seems to be no surefire method for distinguishing these people from the public at large. There are no semiannual gatherings I know of where devoted readers — Dune-iacs? Duneheads? Herbertologists? — dress up like the noble Paul Atreides or the wicked Baron Harkonnen. And the once proud cries that the disowned three-hour cut of David Lynch’s film adaptation be granted its proper place in the cinematic canon have diminished to a whisper. These days the only reliable mark of a true fan is his e-mail signature, where he can safely inscribe a line or two of the axiomatic wisdom that Herbert dotted across his “Dune” novels — proverbs like “A process cannot be understood by stopping it,” or “The real universe is always one step beyond logic” — as a coded electronic wink to his fellow pilgrims driving their caravans across the sands of cyberspace.
He goes on to offer a review of the new Dune sequel, Hunters of Dune, of which he says, “if [the book] works at all, it is only as a metaphor for itself.” It seems to do little more, he says, than set up its own upcoming sequel, due next fall:
I’ll still read that book when it arrives, if only out of a sense of obligation, and you probably will, too. And at that point I hope its authors will heed the advice of another popular tome that has generated its share of memorable proverbs, and recognize that, even on a desert planet, there is a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which has been planted. For “Dune,” it’s probably time to let the fields lay fallow for a while.
And, lest Frank Herbert be alone in writing books (or half-formed notes to books) from beyond the grave, there’s a new book by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by his son, due out soon from Houghton Mifflin.