The Illustrated Dune 0
I read somewhere that Frank Herbert once said that of all the graphic representations of the Dune universe the illustrations in The Illustrated Dune by John Schoenherr most closely matched his mental image of the subjects.
The Cover.
The Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam sat in a tapestried chair watching mother and son approach.
"He can already feel the trap."
"Mapes wailed. It was a sound of both grief and elation. She trembled so hard the knife blade sent glittering shards of reflection shooting around the room."
"Please permit the room to convey a lesson we learned from the same teachers: the proximity of a desirable thing tempts one to overindulgence. On that path lies danger."
"Dawn at the Palace of Arakeen"
"Baron Vladimir Harkonnen"
"A light tan robe completely enveloped the man except for a gap in the hood and black veil that exposed eyes of total blue - no white in them at all." ... "In the waiting silence, Paul studied the man, sensing the aura of power that radiated from him. He was a leader - a Fremen leader.
"On Caladan, we ruled with air and sea power," the Duke said. "Here, we must scrabble for desert power. This is your inheritance, Paul."
"He shall know your ways as though born to them."
"A wide hole emerged from the sand. Sunlight flashed from glistening white spokes within it. The hole's diamater was at least twice the length of the crawler, Paul estimated. He watched as the machine slid into that opening in a billow of dust and sand. The hole pulled back. "Gods, what a monster!"
The Duke looked at Kynes, noting that the planetologist wore an old-style dark brown uniform with epaulets of the Imperial Civil Servant and a tiny gold teardrop of rank at his collar.
Yueh stiffened, whirled to face Jessica.
"Remeber the tooth!" Yueh hissed. "The tooth!"
"The Duke's eyes held a glazed, insane look."
But Paul had known as he turned who piloted the 'thopter.
"Pillars of fire," Paul whispered.
The Sardaukar warriors.
The flight through the Shield Wall.
"My little friend carried his message," the Fremen said. "He is a good messenger - day or night. I'll be unhappy to lose that one."
Through Jessica's mind flashed all the warnings about such storms - that they cut metal like butter, etched flesh to bone and ate away the bones.
"Travel by night and rest in black shade through the day."
What has the worm to do with the spice, melange?
Then he heard he sand rumbling. Every Fremen kne the sound, could distinguish it immediately from the noises of worms or other desert life. Somewhere beneath him, the pre-spice mass had accumulated enough water and organic mater from the little makers, had reached the critical stage of wild growth. A gigantic bubble of carbon dioxide was forming deep in the sand, heaving upward in an enorous "blow" with a dust whirlpool at its center. It would exchange what had been formed deep inthe sand for whatever lay on the surface. The hawks circled overhead screetching their frustration. They knew what was happening. Any desert creature would know. And I am a desert create, Kynes thought. You see me, Father? I am a desert creature. He felt the bubble lift him, felt it break and the dust whirlpool engulf him, dragging him down into cool darkness. For a moment, the sensation of coolness and the moisture were blessed relief. Thef, as his planet killed him, it occurred to Kynes that his father and all the other scientists were wrong, tat the most persistent principles of the unvierse were accident and error. Even the hawks could appreciate these facts.
"It is the legend," someone said.
"To Paul-Muad'Dib goes this portion," Chani said. "My he guard it for the tribe, preserving it against careless loss. May he be generous with it in time of need. May he pass it on in his time for the good of the tribe."
I'll give them a show such as they've never seen before, Feyd-Rautha thought. No tame killing where they can sit back and admire the style.
Paul Muad'Dib calling his first sandworm.
Stilgar and his men.
"Be thankful it's a daughter you carry. This would've killed a male fetus."
"[Thufir
"Tell me again about the waters of thy birthworld, Usul"
A wild maker, an old man of the desert.
The 'thopter waggled its wings to indicate it had the signal.
Paul Muad'Dib is a Fremen.
There can be no more doubt. He is a man, yet he sees through to the Water of Life in the way of a Reverend Mother.
But he took one final look around through the telescope - studying the plain with its tall ships, the gleaming metal hutment, the silent city, the frigates of the Harkonnen mercenaries.
"You've met the Atreides gom jabbar."
Paul administers the oath of the Fedaykin.
The defeat of the Sardaukar.
"Majesty," Paul said, "your force is reduced by one more."
In some cases the book provided captions for the pictures, in other cases I selected relevent text from nearby pages. I took little care to focus the camera or pay attention any other factors which might make these images “archive quality” – I recommend that you buy the book if you, like myself, appreciate these.
It seems you can get it here, here or lots of other places.
