‘Dune: Prophecy’ and its deliberately disgusting women

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Dune: Prophecy opens with a thesis statement. It comes as Reverend Mother Tula Harkonnen (played by Olivia Williams), a member of the powerful, quasi-religious order known as the Sisterhood, instructs a group of novices in the subtle art of truth-telling, which is used to determine whether someone is being dishonest. “Mankind’s greatest weapon is the lie,” she tells them—both the rationale for the lesson and an explanation of the ethos that Dune the universe’s rigid imperial society marches on. But the sisters’ weapon is not just their ability to sniff out lies; so is their ability to tell them. Tula and her fellow sisters are not simply reacting to the deceptive men in control of the empire, as portrayed in Dune books. Instead, the women are from Dune: Prophecy are the heroes of the series and its villains.

Playing with the binary of “good” and “bad” – and who falls into which category – is a core interest of Dune franchise. Novelist Frank Herbert’s (mostly male) heroes are bound by virtue, but they are also deeply flawed: Paul Atreides, the protagonist of the first Dune novel, is a deconstruction of the messianic figure, his seemingly divine traits the result of forces beyond his control. The reader is encouraged to root for Paul, but the story’s climax argues that the existence of an all-powerful despot is bad news for a fragile interstellar empire.

Dune: Prophecy relies on Frank Herbert’s antihero model when recounting the origins of the Sisterhood, a nun-like order of dual superwomen eventually known as the Bene Gesserit. Prophecy is based on the prequel novel Sisterhood of Dune— written by Brian Herbert, Frank’s son, along with writer Kevin J. Anderson — which follows high-ranking (and biologically related) Sisters Tula and Mother Superior Valya Harkonnen (Emily Watson) in their quest to grow their order. Their goal is to manipulate the noble houses into installing one of their members on the Imperial throne, thus cementing the Sisterhood’s control over the known universe.

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A more obvious interpretation of this story might have fleshed out these characters, painting them as an independent and influential group of women determined to save humanity from its darkest impulses. Instead, although Tula, Valya and their co-conspirators see themselves as saviors, Prophecy ensures that the audience does not. The show repeatedly exposes the women’s hypocrisy: they have no problem using the very lies they consider off-limits to everyone else, and they will go to extremes to protect their legacy.

The series’ antagonistic view of the Sisterhood is an extension of the portrayal of the order in Frank Herbert’s work. In the first book, the author reduces the Bene Gesserit to a cautionary tale of hubris: Paul thwarts their millennia-long efforts to influence the Empire for his own gain. Dune: Prophecy deepens the audience’s understanding of why these women crave absolute power despite its dangers, and their despicable methods of achieving it. In it Dune-iverse, your heritage is your destiny, but to the sisters, destiny is just another tool at their disposal.

Prophecy‘s emphasis on the protagonists’ inconsistent morality is a refreshing change from other female-led fantasy series of late. Recent shows have typically encouraged viewers to root for the women at their center: HBO’s House of the Dragon renders its key former friends-turned-sworn-enemies as tragic, not malevolent. The Wheel of Time‘s sorceresses fight to save their world’s source of magic from the forces of darkness. A female Elf commander leads the battle for Midgard The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Powerand it’s not even a real competition. When the conflict is heroes vs. villains, it’s easy to know which side to take, and thus a bit boring to engage with.

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The sisterhood, on the other hand, is sneaky and manipulative and amoral. These alienating properties do not last Prophecy or its sign left; The sisters’ moral turmoil drives both the empire and the intrigue forward. But the most compelling thing is how these women rely on and often promote Dune the strict, gendered structures of the universe. They arrange marriages and ensure that noblewomen bear children who carry on humanity’s most desirable genes, maintaining the technologically advanced Empire’s archaic system of lords and serfs. Where other series in its genre tend to showcase strong female characters who break free from sexist constraints, Prophecy shows how its women leaders use discrimination and subjugation to their advantage.

Not all of this works. The show has already received its fair share of criticism for its use of certain source material (some Frank Herbert purists consider the Brian Herbert prequels non-canonical) and for its depiction of some parts of the doctrine. But its core themes—the corrupting allure of control, the dangers of putting the future in the hands of greedy autocrats—are closely aligned with those of the original. Dune novels. Like the older Herbert’s male leads, Prophecy‘s women willfully perpetuate a cycle of abused power and depravity. Their actions are their own and they are not ashamed of them.