There are many kinds of fear in this world. Fear of failure. Fear of the unknown. Fear of dying, fear of living, fear of making a fool of oneself. Fear of making the wrong decision. Fear of the other and of those who are different.
How does one overcome such fears?
Franklin Delano Roosevelt railed against fear. At his first inaugural address, the new president charged his fellow Americans with a task: to conquer their fear. What was he referring to? To the mindless, unpredictable illusion of fear. Of inaction in the face of fear, the kind that prevents action from taking place.
"Let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself - nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance."
After three years of an ever-deepening and stupefying depression, President Roosevelt knew that by convincing Americans of the need for firm decisions and an immediate plan of action, he could rally the forces to surmount their fear. But by what means could he do this? By being honest with them.
"In every dark hour of our national life," he went on, "a leadership of frankness and vigor has met with that understanding and support of the people themselves which is essential to victory. I am convinced that you will again give that support to leadership in these critical days."
The president's mantra suggested that the way forward was to confront one's fear. In this way, the immense problems the country and its people had been facing could be turned around. He did this by challenging them, and by giving them a task: to take that fear of the unknown and work their way out of their troubles.
Paul Atreides, all of 15 years of age, had a lot to fear. His father, Duke Leto of House Atreides, had been assassinated by his adversaries; by the very spies the detested Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, his family's sworn enemy, had planted within the palace at Arrakeen.
Alone, except for his surviving mother, the Lady Jessica, Paul would grow out of his fear to become that indomitable force of nature that would unite the dessert tribespeople known as the Fremen - that is, the "free men" of Arrakis.
Arrakis, the "Dune" planet, where giant sandworms roamed the windswept dessert plains. Where water, the very symbol of life, was scarce. Where spice, an even more precious commodity, could be harvested and utilized. But for what purpose?
Paul Atreides would inspire all people of faith and those who longed for freedom to prevail over their fears, to face down their foes, and to succeed in spite of the insurmountable odds against them.
Early on in the story, young Paul, uncertain and unsure, is tested by the Bene Gesserit witch, Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam. He's told to place his hand inside a small box. As he does so, the Reverend Mother swiftly raises her arm to his neck, pointing a thimble with a deadly dart at his artery. This is the Gom Jabbar, the crucial test of pain.
Paul must resist the pain at all costs. If he removes his hand prematurely from the box, the Gom Jabbar will pierce his neck, resulting in immediate death.
Can he survive the test?
While his hand is in the box, Paul experiences a torture of the mind. He has thoughts and visions of his hand burning and melting, the flesh and bone ripped from his person; the excruciating pain of his hand and wrist being torn apart before his eyes.
If Paul pulls his hand out, he recalls to himself, the Reverend Mother will kill him - instantly and with no remorse. Instead, Paul wills himself to conquer his anxieties.
Having been taught the litany against fear by Lady Jessica, Paul recites its precepts silently to himself:
"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."
This scene, as brief as it is, remains crucial to the Dune legacy. It is the declaration of Paul's independence, his unshackling, as it were, from the stifling coils of the Bene Gesserit order. His triumph begins an assertation of a new way of life, that of choice: either to live in fear, or live to survive; either to take up the challenge, or allow yourself to wallow in self-pity. From self-pity comes destruction of the self and that of an entire nation. Which is it?
Paul chooses wisely. He does not give in to fear, but allows it to pass over and through him. He would see his fear evaporate before his mind's eye. And when it has gone past and through him, there will be nothing. Only he, Paul Atreides, will remain - until the end.
A Classic RevisitedFrank Herbert's science-fiction classic Dune is a long, drawn out Greek tragedy of quasi-Shakespearean characters and complications. Barring further unforeseen developments (the coronavirus pandemic, for one), this long-admired magnum opus, a seminal work in its day - and for all days - is scheduled for re-emergence in the Fall of 2021.
Surely, French-Canadian film director Denis Villeneuve ( Arrival, Blade Runner 2049), the cinematic visionary who deigned to lay hands on Herbert's 1965 epic novel, will kindle fond (and not-so-fond) memories of previous traversals so that the spaces of one's mind can be folded.
The hope is that this newest iteration of the tale, a timely "space opera" worthy of the collective wisdom of Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Gene Roddenberry, George Lucas, and other farsighted auteurs, will snatch Herbert's victory from defeat through the gaping jaws of Arrakis' monstrous sandworms.
At least, that is the expectation. Will this be a case of "third time's the charm"? Or will it grind this hoary old fable down into the dust from which it came; one more failed attempt at maintaining the status quota - the oft-repeated catchphrase "the spice must flow" - by becoming just another "doomed Dune "?
To address these concerns, we'll take a time-traveling peak into prior motion-picture attempts at resurrecting this enduringly popular fable.
The less said about Chilean-born director Alejandro Jodorowsky's aborted mid-seventies effort, the better for all concerned. While exceedingly ambitious and exorbitantly over-priced at the time, Jodorowsky's wildly imaginative concept, to feature such erratic casting choices as Orson Welles as Baron Harkonnen and surrealist painter Salvador Dalí as Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV, never reached completion.
For an in-depth glimpse into that abandoned project (and for pure entertainment value), I strongly recommend watching the 2013 documentary Jodorowsky's Dune. It's guaranteed to activate those ever-present sci-fi salivary glands. However, prepare yourself for a big letdown.
What remains is not exactly what I'd call "choice." Instead, the surviving examples of Dune pictures are more in the way of "acceptable" fare or, at the very least, worth a "once-over." As a matter of fact, one of them, issued by Artisan and available (if you're fortunate enough to acquire it) in a three-disc extended edition with tons of supplements, merits repeat viewings. Mainly, it's value is in satisfying one's curiosity regarding creative mind-sets, what those individuals felt about Herbert's writings and how they were addressed within the limited means they were given to work with.
We'll be discussing the superior 2000 version (which debuted as a miniseries that stretched over three nights in December 2002 on the Sci-Fi Channel), written and directed by John Harrison, alongside that of veteran filmmaker David Lynch's idiosyncratic 1984 Reader's Digest edition, or, as I like to describe it, a messy "baroque meets punk" eyesore.
For curiosity seekers, there's also Sci-Fi's 2003 Frank Herbert's Children of Dune, an inferior sequel (written but not helmed by Harrison) based on the original author's Dune Messiah (1969) and Children of Dune (1976). The casting of young James McAvoy as Leto II and Susan Sarandon as the wily Princess Wensicia are the main attractions. With many of the original performers taking on different roles, this rather tame effort to keep the narrative alive only brought painful reminders of how much better the year 2000 production was by comparison. Unless you're an absolute completist, I'd give this one an especially wide berth.
"The saga of Dune is far from over...."
(To be continued).
Copyright © 2020 by Josmar F. Lopes
