Wow. For such a tiny book, this thing is just jammed full of thought-provoking material. As you will doubtless remember, Dune left me a bit flummoxed. And at the end of Dune Messiah, I’m still not a lot closer to understanding the political and social forces that resulted in Paul Atreides becoming Emperor of the universe and his Fremen warriors unleashing Jihad upon that universe. For one thing, I don’t really understand either the religions being supplanted or the religion doing the supplanting to any real degree. But I’m starting to think that all of that is just background noise and only of minimal relevance.

There are several forces at play. The Fremen wish to continue their bloody holy crusade across the galaxy. The business interests, the Bene Gesserit, and the family of the fallen emperor want to restore their rightful places in the scheme of things, which is to say back on top. Paul wants to live out a life of peace and love and not be remembered as the man who unleashed the worst atrocities in history; and to his credit, he wants this not to be true more than he wants to modify the perception of the events. Then there are the lynchpin characters around whom all of these elements are turning: Chani, Paul’s Fremen wife who wants only his happiness regardless of what comes of the rest; Alia, Paul’s sister who wants that as well and the same for herself, even if she’s too blinded by the godhead that has been thrust upon her to fully realize it; and the being formerly known as Duncan Idaho, Paul’s teacher in his previous life and now shaped by fate to play as his Judas, who wants above all to know who or what he really is.

See, and that’s what’s cool about Messianic stories. At root, they’re the story of individuals. Once it becomes a story of a god, or even a story of one who is destined to be a god, the point is already too muddied. The huddled masses use gods for their own purposes. They always have, and the indication for this particular future is that they always will. Instead, then, Frank Herbert presents the story of two men hemmed in on all sides by fate and the choices that they make to escape that fate, or at least minimize the damage to everyone around them. There are two things I’m sure of after reading this. I’m going to have to read the Dune books again once I get through to the end, as it’s been a fair while since I’ve read sci-fi that was also fully literature. And I’m going to have to read the gospels again, because I’ve never viewed Jesus through the lens of somebody making the best of an impossible situation before.

It is a serious difficulty to keep myself from just grabbing one of these series of graphics novels and devouring it from end to end over the course of a lazy afternoon. Because, well, they’re just so damn fun. But if I did that, I’d end up doing a shoddy job of this, plus in most of the cases I’d reach the end of the line and be stuck waiting for something new to come out months from now. Which will probably happen in some cases anyhow, but the more I can put it off, the better. If I run out of these, I might have to start coming up with new stuff that hasn’t been recommended to me externally, or maybe reread the Malazan series since two more books are out now but I have only the vaguest of ideas how the series was going when I finished the most recent-to-me book sometime last year. None of which would probably be much of a tragedy except insofar as change is terrifying and to be avoided at all costs.

For example, what if every male mammal on the planet suddenly died? That would be a pretty big change, and I for one would not approve. Heck, Yorick and his capuchin monkey survived that holocaust, and he doesn’t even approve. Of course, I can understand why not, but at least he didn’t die. Nevertheless, being the last man comes with its own sets of problems. Between government agendas, vengeful lesbian amazons on motorcycles, and cute self-sufficient women who hope he will give up on his nomadic search for a girlfriend on the literal other side of the planet, his hands are pretty full. And that’s not to mention the agent assigned to protect him who may be falling for him, or the Israeli spies in hot pursuit for undisclosed reasons, or the second, well, maybe third-worst family reunion I’ve seen in a comic. (Come to think of it, comic writers have a problem with family reunions, apparently. ‘Cause this by rights should have been the worst one, and yet.[1])

If there was a particularly deep thought buried in Cycles, I missed it. (I mean, sure, there’s a couple of puns there which you can probably spot yourself, but nothing below the surface pertaining to the seasons or the life cycle or anything like that. At least, not to my somewhat trained eye.) But no big; if there’s not another deep thought beyond the initial premise-setting events in the entire series, there’s still enough sheer entertainment value watching Yorick deal with all the twists and turns his life is taking as he tries to get to his girlfriend while everyone around him wants to clone him, study him, screw him, or murder him to last me for books and books yet. Also: I’m not saying who, but somebody ends up with an axe protruding from the skull. You can bet that’s entertainment!

[1] In case you’re wondering, I’m thinking of Preacher: Until the End of the World and of, well, probably several events in the Sandman series.