How a World War Can Change the Outlook on Apocalyptic Books

FINAL BLACKOUT
1948 Preface

Written by L. Ron Hubbard

When Final Blackout was written there was still a Maginot Line, Dunkirk was just another French coastal town and the Battle of Britain, the Bulge, Saipan, Iwo, V2s and Nagasaki were things unknown and far ahead in history. While it concerns these things, its action will not take place for many years yet to come and it is, therefore, still a story of the future though some of the “future” it embraced (about one-fifth) has already transpired.

When published in magazine form before the war, it created a little skirmish of its own and, I am told, as time has gone by and some of it has unreeled, interest in it has if anything increased. So far its career has been most adventurous as a story. The “battle of Final Blackout” has included loud wails from the Communists—who said it was pro-Fascist (while at least one Fascist has held it to be pro-Communist). Its premises have been called wild and unfounded on the one hand while poems (some of them very good) have been written about or dedicated to the Lieutenant. Meetings have been held to nominate to greatness while others have been called to hang the author in effigy (and it is a matter of record that the last at least was successfully accomplished).

The British would not hear of its being published there at the time it appeared in America, though Boston, I am told, remained neutral—for there is nothing but innocent slaughter in it and no sign of rape.

There are those who insist that it is all very bad and those who claim for it the status of immortality. And while it probably is not the worst tale ever written, I cannot bring myself to believe that Final Blackout, as so many polls and such insist, is one of the ten greatest stories in its field ever written.

Back in those mild days when Pearl Harbor was a place you toured while vacationing at Waikiki and when every drawing room had its business man who wondered disinterestedly whether or not it was not possible to do business with Hitler, the anti–Final Blackoutists (many of whom, I fear, were Communists, whatever those are) were particularly irked by some of the premises of the tale.

Russia was, obviously, a peace-loving nation with no more thought than America of entering the war. England was a fine going concern without a thought, beyond a contemptuous aside, for the Socialist who, of course, could never come to power. One must understand this to see why Final Blackout slashed about and wounded people.

True enough, some of its premises were far off the mark. It supposed, for instance, that the politicians of the great countries, particularly the United States, would push rather than hinder the entrance of the whole world into the war. In fact, it supposed, for its author was very young, that politicians were entirely incompetent and would not prevent for one instant the bloodiest conflict the country had ever known.

Further, for the author was no military critic, it supposed that the general staffs of most great nations were composed of stupid bunglers who would be looking at their mirrors when they should be looking to their posts and that the general worldwide strategy of war would go off in a manner utterly unadroit to the sacrifice of quite a few lives. It surmised that if general staffs went right on bungling along, nations would cease to exist, and it further—and more to the point—advanced the thought that the junior officer, the noncom and, primarily, the enlisted man would have to prosecute the war. These, it believed, would finally be boiled down, by staff stupidity, to a handful of unkillables who would thereafter shift for themselves.

Final Blackout declared rather summarily—and very harshly, for the author was inexperienced in international affairs—that the anarchy of nations was an unhealthy arrangement maintained by the greed of a few for the privileges of a few and that the “common people” (which is to say those uncommon people who wish only to be let go about their affairs of getting enough to eat and begetting their next generation) would be knocked flat, silly and completely out of existence by these brand-new “defensive” weapons which would, of course, be turned only against soldiers. Bombs, atomics, germs and, in short, science, it maintained, were being used unhealthily and that, soon enough, a person here and there who was no party to the front-line sortie was liable to get injured or dusty; it also spoke of populations being affected boomerang fashion by weapons devised for their own governments to use.

Certainly all this was heresy enough in that quiet world of 1939, and since that time, it is only fair to state, the author has served here and there and has gained enough experience to see the error of his judgment. Everything, it can be said with Pangloss, so far, has been for the best in this best of all possible worlds.

There have been two or three stories modeled on Final Blackout. I am flattered. It is just a story. And as the past few years proved, it cannot possibly happen.

L. RON HUBBARD
Hollywood, 1948