Dune drops you right into the story without easing you in with world-building before the plot picks up, which I personally found alienating and made it hard for me to get into it from the beginning. It's the story of a young nobleman, Paul Atrides, whose family is entangled in interplanetary intrigue. The Atrides family is given control of a planet called Dune, notable for being the sole source of a precious substance, the spice melange, which allows people to tap into enhanced mental abilities. When the Atrides are betrayed by their enemies, the Harkonnens, the Duke Leto dies but his consort Jessica and son Paul escape into the desert planet, where Paul (the result of a breeding program by a religious/philosphical/political sect) taps into extraordinary abilities and becomes a religious icon among the native population. Of course, he has vengeance to bring upon the Harokkens and a final battle for power between the families looms.

Having read Joseph Campbell's Hero With A Thousand Faces, it was pretty easy to recognize Paul's story as the Hero's Journey. There's a reason this particular narrative is so popular across time and cultures: when done well, it's really compelling. Was this done well? Not especially, but it wasn't bad or even mediocre. It just didn't do a lot for me, personally. Like I said, it took me a while to get into it and it's kind of a space opera...it starts at like a 7 in intensity and waxes and wanes from there, but it's high drama throughout. I'd have liked a chance to warm up to and get emotionally invested in the characters before they started being put in peril. And on a shallow note about the characters, it bothered me that some of them had fairly standard-issue names: Jessica, Paul, Duncan, even Leto. Then there are some named Thufir, Gurney, and Irulan. I tend to feel like an author should either "go there" with mostly unusual naming patterns or not, but the in-between doesn't really work.

Once I got about a quarter of the way into it, I got a feel for the world and the novel as a whole and I enjoyed it more, but at the end of the day it wasn't really for me. Assuming for the sake of argument a continuum from entirely character-driven stories to entirely plot-driven stories, I tend to prefer things on the character side and I'd slot Dune on the plot side. I'm a big movie-watcher when I'm not reading, and there are plenty of movies that I've seen that I recognize are high quality, but that I don't really like. This is the same kind of deal...I can understand why it's been so popular and sold so well, but I don't know that I'd read it again or recommend it to anyone. ( )

Non si può fare una recensione per questo libro, o almeno io non sono in grado, posso solo dire che è imprescindibile leggerlo

Non ho aggiunto l'ultima stella per la sensazione straniante che si ha nel finire il libro, quel pensiero fulmineo che dice "ma come, la storia è appena iniziata!?!!" e che è subito un senso di malessere.

Dovrei esserci abituata con tutte le saghe che leggo ma qui non c'è la malizia navigata degli scrittori moderni con i loro cliffhanger ammiccanti che sono già la promessa di un seguito, qui ci sono 800 pagine meravigliose che scivolano via come seta e la loro fine è (per me) uno schiaffo violento.

quindi ciao ciao mondo, vado a leggere [b:Messia di Dune|3704206|Messia di Dune (Dune #2)|Frank Herbert|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1326923386l/3704206._SX50_.jpg|3634570]
( )

On my fourth attempt to get through Dune, I finally did it! And I didn't like it. I had no interest in any of the characters or the world building or really anything. I've yet to see any of the adaptations because the book was such a task to finish.
My coworkers all love this book so I really wanted to join their club but couldn't. I wish I read an abridged version of heard a radio drama because there were like five really cool moments in the book but overall I don't think it was worth the effort to get those. ( )

no se es bueno agil se lee bien pero no me termino de gustar ( )

As an admirer of science fiction, I wholeheartedly believe that Frank Herbert’s “Dune” transcends the silver screen adaptations. This magnum opus, with its sprawling desert landscapes, intricate political machinations, and profound ecological themes, is a literary voyage unlike any other.

Herbert’s masterful world-building immerses readers in the arid sands of Arrakis, where the spice melange flows like a river of cosmic consciousness. The saga of Paul Atreides, the prophesied Kwisatz Haderach, unfolds with a richness that no film could fully capture. The intricacies of the Great Houses, the enigmatic Bene Gesserit, and the fierce Fremen rebels intertwine to create a tapestry of epic proportions.

While the movies—despite their visual spectacle—inevitably compress and simplify, the novel unfurls at its own deliberate pace. Herbert’s prose, akin to the shifting sands, reveals layers of philosophy, power struggles, and mysticism. The sandworms, colossal and mythic, symbolize both danger and transformation—a metaphor that resonates far beyond the confines of cinema.

In the grand theater of imagination, “Dune” reigns supreme. Its exploration of religion, destiny, and ecological balance lingers long after the credits roll. So, dear reader, venture into the desert, ride the sandworms, and savor the spice. For this literary odyssey deserves not just stars, but entire constellations. ( )