This is an objectively beautiful book, one that also happens to be an edition of one of my top five favourite works of fiction ever. But I don’t think I’ll ever buy a copy of it because it is not to my mind a beautiful edition of one of my top five favourite works of fiction ever. As a Canadian, raised and still living overwhelmingly in the winter, I can never see the black, white, and blue of this edition and not feel cold. There is, for me, literally snow billowing around Paul Atreides on the front cover. I am seeing that exact same colour palette, those exact images right now, looking out my window onto a snowy -30°C landscape. This creates too much dissonance for me to then open up the cover and try to imagine myself on a desert planet as hot and dry as Arrakis. For books as for people, I would argue, often the (still)suit does make the (hu)man.