Hello Tolkien Poppers,
Get out your Dune popcorn bucket (yea, I know you have one) and your copies of Dune and The Lord of the Rings and get ready for a fun comparison between Paul Atreides and Aragorn. I had a great time writing this one and I hope you enjoy reading it. May your dagger chip and shatter as you consume some literary Spice Melange.
With the release of Dune: Part 2, there has been a lot of buzz online about Tolkien and his opinion about Dune. Tolkien wrote in a letter, responding to a fan named Josh Bush, who sent him a copy of Dune in 1965. In the letter, Tolkien wrote: “In fact, I dislike Dune with some intensity, and in that unfortunate case it is much the best and fairest to another author to keep silent and refuse to comment.”1 Even before the release of the latest film adaptation, fans have known about Tolkien’s dislike of Dune and speculated why. One of the more recent speculations published online that I found interesting, well-researched, and thought out nicely is Tolkien’s Problem with Dune by Jess of the Shire. This post will not be another in-depth attempt at speculating why Tolkien disliked Dune, but I will be giving my opinion as to one reason I think Tolkien disliked it and then perform a comparative analysis. One of the primary aspects of Dune that I could see Tolkien having an issue with is the way in which Frank Herbert explores the concept of Messianism. Herbert was not a religious person and explicitly articulates and encourages others to exercise a skepticism towards the claim of Messiahs in religions as well as the following of powerful leaders in general:
. In the interview above, Herbert asserts that the mistakes of leaders are amplified by those who follow them without questions. And in another interview he gives an interesting twist to Lord Acton’s famous lines by saying, “Power doesn't corrupt, Power attracts the corruptible.”
Already, we are getting at the main difference in perspective between Herbert and Tolkien. Jess of the Shire explores in her video that Tolkien believed that God’s providence touches the history of our primary world, which means that Creation is ultimately heading towards a happy ending. Being a good writer, according to Tolkien - particularly of fantasy - is to provide readers a secondary world in which we can escape the bleakness of our own self-destruction to enchant us so that we may recover something of an original intended sight of Creation that God intended for us. Throughout The Lord of the Rings and the rest of the legendarium, Ilúvatar serves as a monolithic God that maneuvers the world into hopeful consolation. Herbert’s secondary world does not enchant us in the same way that Tolkien’s work does. I believe that Herbert, similar to Tolkien, is attempting to re-enchant us readers to see what’s going on in our world. This is not to renew our sights in the way that God originally created us to see, but to recognize the issues that humanity has created and to try to do something about it by asking questions and thinking for ourselves.
I believe that Jess is right in her assessment of what, in part, Tolkien took issue with regarding Dune. These two perspectives can be seen as manifest in each of the authors’ secondary world “Messiahs,” namely Aragorn and Paul Atreides. How these men arise to power and the outcomes of their respective reigns differ extremely. What I want to do is compare the similarities between Aragorn and Paul as well as the differences. In doing so, I hope to demonstrate a deeper insight into each of the characters and their relationship to the larger secondary worlds of each writer.
Let’s start with Aragorn, for much commentary has been performed on him through a variety of Christological readings. Before doing so, I want to acknowledge that Aragorn is not a one-to-one allegory to Christ. Christological themes and characteristics exist in multiple characters within Tolkien’s legendarium; the most popular being Gandalf, Frodo, and Aragorn. I will not be exploring how Aragorn embodies aspects of Christ, but how his life and accomplishments reflect those of a prophesied Messiah figure.
To do this properly, a brief lesson in the history of Middle-earth is in order. After the fall of Númenor in the Second Age, Elendil, Isildur, and Anárion arrived on the shores of Middle-earth. Elendil was one of the faithful who opposed the followers of Sauron in Númenor and prepared ships to escape Númenor during the attempted assault of Ar-Pharazôn’s armada on Valinor. Elendil was in one ship and Isildur and Anárion rode in another in their escape of the Downfall of Númenor. Elendil landed in the northern shores of Middle-earth and his sons in the south. Two kingdoms of Men were founded during this time: Arnor in the North and Gondor in the South. Both were united and flew under one banner. Over the years, the northern and southern kingdoms would come to conflict about proper rulership and the recognition of the rightful heirs to certain thrones. This division grew to the splitting of the northern kingdom of Arnor into three separate realms. Eventually, the last rightful king in Gondor came to his end with no children, leaving the South in the hands of the Stewards. The North would collapse into one kingdom in the region of Arthedain after a series of internal fighting between Men, a plague, and the assault of the Witch-king of Angmar. Aragorn would be the last descendent of the line of kings recognized through his relation to Isildur, specifically from the remnants of the rule in Arnor to Arthedain to the Chieftains of the Dúnedain.
The father of the last king of Arthedain, Araphant was advised by Malbeth the Seer to name his son, the heir to the throne, Arvedui. She said, “Arvedui you shall call him, for he will be the last in Arthedain. Though a choice will come to the Dunedain, and if they take the one that seems less hopeful, then your son will change his name and become king of a great realm. If not, then much sorrow and many lives of men shall pass, until the Dunedain arise and are united again.” (ROTK, Appendix A, 410) Here, we see the laying out of a prophetic tradition of the coming of a rightful king of Men that will unite the divided kingdoms. If you couldn’t guess, the latter events of Malbeth’s prediction are the ones that come to fruition. When Arvedui rises to power, he eventually dies and the northern kingdom is left in shambles, leaving the remaining heirs of Isildur to be the wandering Dúnedain. These Dúnedain are taken in by Elrond in Rivendell, where he fosters and advises them. Through the line of Arvedui, Arathorn, the father of Aragorn, was planning to marry. He sought the marriage of Gilraen the Fair, daughter of Dírhael. Dírhael was opposed, but his wife Ivorwen had the foresight to encourage the marriage of Arathorn and Gilraen, saying, “The more need of haste! The days are darkening before the storm, and great things are to come. If these two wed now, hope may be born for our people; but if they delay, it will not come while this age lasts.” (ROTK, Appendix A, 420) During this time, Arathorn’s father, Arador, was the Chieftain of the Dúnedain. Within five years of Arathorn’s marriage to Gilraen, she bore Aragorn and both Arador and Arathorn were killed, leaving Aragorn to be the only heir and making him a continual child or prophecy, extended through Ivorwen’s foresight.
We see hints of Aragorn’s destiny to rise as the rightful king of Men that unites them all and brings about an age of prosperity that had not been seen for past generations throughout the legendarium. Readers of Tolkien’s legendarium will know that Aragorn and Arwen’s union are reflections of those of Beren and Lúthien as well as Tuor and Idril in the First Age. Additionally, there are textual ruins that create a sense of depth within the history of Middle-earth that make Aragorn’s prophesied return to Gondor feel more present. A prime example is Ioreth, who worked in the Houses of Healing. There she proclaimed, “For it is said in old lore: The hands of the king are the hands of a healer. And so the rightful king should ever be known.” (ROTK, VI, 166) Aragorn’s coming has been predicted for a long time in Middle-earth if you knew where to look and who to listen to. And Aragorn’s return largely led to the defeat of Sauron and the rising of the kingdom of Men to the overall benefit of Middle-earth, which is primarily driven by Ilúvatar’s providence.
If you’re familiar with Dune, the movie adaptations, or even steeped in the larger cosmos of Dune, you likely have already picked up on the differences between Aragorn as prophesied “Messiah” and Paul. I have only read Dune and Dune Messiah and have only seen Denis Velleneuve’s film adaptations, so I do not know all the details about the rise of the Kwisatz Haderach and how extensive the Bene Gesserit’s influence over the Known Universe’s anticipation of the manufactured Messiah. With that warning, I will only be focusing on Paul Atreides’s ascension to Kwisatz Haderach. Not only is this the limit of my own knowledge, but I think unpacking this will be accessible to everyone, not just the Dune supernerds (non-derogatory) and will give us further insight into just how different Tolkien and Herbert’s views on the concept of Messiah really are.
In the Known Universe of Dune, there are no advanced machines that can be made in the likeness of the human mind. That means no calculators, no GPS, no medical testing devices etc. In light of this reality, humans have trained their minds and bodies in particular ways to meet these needs. Mentats are the human computers, Suks are the medical professionals that can read people’s vitals, and Guild Navigators are those who can safely navigate interstellar travel. Similarly, the Bene Gesserit have trained their bodies in a way that they control every aspect of them including the individual fibers of their biological makeup, the ability to control others through speech, and fertility control. The Bene Gesserit have a vast array of abilities that surpass the amount of those such as Mentats and Suks. This advantage has equipped the Bene Gesserit to gain a large portion of control of the rule of the Known Universe. Part of their control includes an extensive breeding program to produce the Kwisatz Haderach as a human that will have all the abilities of a sister of the Bene Gesserit while going beyond in being able to perfectly see the past and the future in order to bring control and stability to the Known Universe through the Bene Gesserit.
Over generations of influence across the Known Universe, the Bene Gesserit have conducted missions to plant the beliefs that a Messiah will come to bring peace through rule. Without going into too much detail about the backstory of Paul’s rise to Kwisatz Haderach, I am going to give a brief explanation as to why Paul has created such conflict between the Houses and the Bene Gesserit. Jessica, Paul’s mother, basically goes rogue and decides to give birth to a boy a generation early to produce the Kwisatz Haderach. Control then begins to move away from the Sisterhood of the Bene Gesserit and into the hands of Jessica, Paul, and members of his family. As the Atreides move to Arrakis, Paul begins to encounter the Fremen, of whom many believe or at least see the signs that he is the Kwisatz Haderach or, according to indigenous Fremen religious terms, the Lisan Al Gaib. Jessica and Paul eventually come together to utilize this religious belief to gain control of the Fremen to bring a holy war to the galactic Imperium and the ruling Houses within its control.
Where Paul begins as a genuinely humble person, who allies himself with the Fremen to assist in bringing about their liberation, he later leans into the power that he is able to attain through his carefully crafted pedigree as manipulated by the breeding of the Sisterhood. Whether for good or for bad (I say this without a larger knowledge of the future of the Dune series) Paul claims his power and enacts univocal power that costs billions of lives. Further, no longer does his abilities assist a Fremen-led revolution. Rather, Paul determines what futures are better for the universe as the “Messiah.” The consequences of this continue to play out in the rest of the series.
How one views hope contributes greatly to the difference between Aragorn and Paul. For Tolkien, hope is an integral part of Middle-earth. For Herbert, hope is manufactured for the purpose of control. Aragorn is given the name Estel in Rivendell. Estel is the Elvish word for “hope.” There is a deeper meaning behind the word estel. It is also a philosophical/theological concept that refers to the trust in Ilúvatar’s being and will for the world as ultimately good. We see Aragorn embodying this reality by carrying the name and enacting benevolent behavior as the good and rightful king of Men. When Paul began to be seen as the Messiah or the Mahdi, it is solely because the Bene Gesserit planted religious superstition in Fremen society over countless years for the purpose of total control. This control does not go to the Bene Gesserit, but to Paul and his family in Dune.
Tolkien’s hope is in Jesus Christ through his Roman Catholic faith, and he explicitly connects that hope to his theory of writing proper fantasy. He calls the accomplishment of this hope in fantasy as it reflects the hope of Christ’s victory a eucatastrophe, i.e., the happy ending. In his essay On Fairy-stories, he says,
“But in the ‘eucatastrophe’ we see in a brief vision that the answer may be greater - it may be a far-off gleam or echo of evangelium in the real world…The Birth of Christ is the eucatastrophe of Man’s history. The Resurrection is the eucatastrophe of the story of the Incarnation. This story begins and ends in joy. It has pre-eminently the ‘inner consistency of reality.’” (OFS, 77-78)
Herbert has a very different take on hope - particularly hope as it relates to a religious figure or any other leader for that matter. In a lecture that he delivered to the Engineering school at UCLA in 1985, he explains,
“I wrote the Dune series because I had this idea that charismatic leaders ought to come with a warning label on their forehead: ‘May be dangerous to your health.’ One of the most dangerous presidents we had in this century was John Kennedy because people said, ‘Yes, Sir Mr. Charismatic Leader, what do we do next?’ and we wound up in Vietnam. And I think probably the most valuable president of this century was Richard Nixon because he taught us to distrust government and he did it by example.”
One of the primary values that Herbert promotes is for people to think for themselves without letting certain authorities dictate their thinking, beliefs, and actions. From this, hope is sort of an open-ended reality that relies on how humanity responds to the way in which the world unfolds. No fixed happy ending awaits us.
Whether you agree with Tolkien or Herbert or neither, their outlooks on reality influence the way in which their respective “Messiahs” function in their secondary worlds. Herbert conflates Messianic figures with politicians and cult leaders like Jim Jones. He wants to warn people that to avoid the dangerous impact that charismatic leaders of any stripe pose, we need to develop a healthy skepticism to nurture our own desires and values. Paul is a case study in the way in which Herbert views leaders. He begins with good intentions, responding to the circumstances thrust upon him, and loses control through the attainment of “total control.” On the other hand, in my opinion, Tolkien would never have conflated Christ, who he believed as the true Messiah, with leaders in this world no matter where they were. Herbert and Tolkien probably share a skepticism towards authorities in our primary world. In Letter 52 to his son Christopher, Tolkien writes, “Anyway the proper study of Man is anything but Man; and the most improper job of any man, even saints (who at any rate were at least unwilling to take it on), is bossing other men. Not one in a million is fit for it, and least of all those seek the opportunity.” He believed in the sole leadership of God and God’s will being brought about through the saving work of Christ, which, in Tolkien’s view, cannot be brought down to the will of any human leader.
Tolkien may not have liked Dune partially because of these elements. But I think that we can take away lessons from both Tolkien and Herbert when it comes to how we as people interact with religious, political, and charismatic figures. Whether we are followers or skeptics (or maybe a little bit of both), we can envisage what an ideal leader looks like such as Aragorn or Frodo or Éowyn. We can also critique these fictional leaders and their faults along with those in our primary world through narrative tools such as the character of Paul and how he came to be a Messiah that Herbert provides us. By analyzing the Messianic differences in Tolkien and Herbert’s fiction, we can put them in dialogue to create a new perspective that may influence us as future creatives and movers and shakers of the world.
But what do you think? Are you a person of faith who has hope in the work of God or multiple gods who will bring about a good end for the Universe? Or are you a skeptic, whether religious or not, who believes in an open future that does not guarantee a happy ending for Creation? Would love to hear your take!
Cilli, Oronzo. Tolkien’s Library: An Annotated Checklist. Luna Press Publishing, 2019.
The main difference between Tolkien and Herbert, and consequently in their fiction, is that Tolkien was both Christian and Catholic and Herbert, apparently, was not. In Tolkien's works it is taken as a given that the supra-rational (the spiritual) is real; the distinction between good and evil is real, God is real (Iluvatar being the fictional analogue), angels exist, and so on. By contrast in Herbert's fiction the supra-rational is largely dispensed with. The Bene Gesserit wave their arms about spirituality in order to advance their own political agendas, but one has the impression that neither they nor the author really believes in their dicta. Everything is about politics and control; in other words, the working out of Pride. It's like watching an ultra-Godfather scenario, magnified throughout the ages by technology and training in various disciplines, and augmented in certain ways by the spice. God doesn't really exist in this world, but, bearing in mind the quest for power that has become institutionalized, one has the impression that Satan does exist, lurking in the background.