L. Ron Hubbard (1911–1986)

I got this for free at a conference ages ago. It features a foreword by Kevin J. Anderson, two stories by L. Ron Hubbard ("The Carnival of Death" and "The Death Flyer" - both of which are accompanied by black and white illustrations), a brief preview of Hubbard's "Mouthpiece," a glossary of 1930s and 1940s words and expression used in the stories, and a 9-page overview of L. Ron Hubbard's writing life (nothing negative, and not a single mention of Scientology).

Kevin J. Anderson's foreword show more had nothing but glowing praise for pulp fiction, which I suppose would have been fine if it hadn't been for the implication that pulp fiction of the 1930s and 1940s was better and more enjoyable than most fiction published today. "These tales will return you to a time when fiction was good clean entertainment and the most fun a kid could have on a rainy afternoon or the best thing an adult could enjoy after a long day at work" (x-xi). That kid and adult are almost certainly white and male, and their "good clean entertainment" has a high concentration of violence and death.

I'd probably have disliked "The Carnival of Death" regardless, but Anderson's foreword certainly didn't help.

"The Carnival of Death"

The longest of the two stories, at almost 70 pages. Bob Clark has been hired as a carnival detective, tasked with investigating a cocaine smuggling ring operating somewhere within the carnival. His work is complicated by the discovery of a decapitated body - the barker who oversaw four captive African headhunters (later specified to be Nigerians). The headhunters are gone, and the initial assumption is that they escaped and killed their captor, but Clark isn't so sure. A little hair left behind at the crime scene leads him to think that the true culprit is a white man who freed the headhunters as a diversion.

This was almost purely action, and it wasn't even very good action. Clark would do a tiny bit of investigating, get attacked or otherwise get in a fight, and then do a little more investigating. It seemed odd to me that Clark kept thinking the blond guy had something to do with the decapitated body when the text specifically referred to the hair he found as "white" rather than "blond," but I'm guessing readers weren't supposed to be thinking about things like that.

Granted, I only have this story and "The Death Flyer" to go off of, but I wonder if any of the women in Hubbard's pulp fiction stories were ever referred to as "women"? I'm guessing only if they were older and/or unattractive. The one in this story was always a "girl." Meanwhile, the young man who I assumed was probably about the same age as her was either "the blond youth" or "the man called Jack."

The Nigerian headhunter aspect was painfully dated, and I cringed every time they were mentioned, which thankfully wasn't quite as much as I expected. Not a single character in this story saw any problems with four Black people held captive and put on display for a white audience (incidentally, Anderson's fawning foreword didn't discuss pulp fiction's handling of race at all).

"The Death Flyer"

A civil engineer named Jim Bellamy is walking along a train track back to his camp one evening, cursing himself for being out so late, when he almost gets run over by a train. The conductor pulls over and offers him a ride, which he accepts, only to discover that he's stepped into a strange, spooky, and probably dangerous situation.

This little ghost story was actually sort of okay, at least in comparison to "The Carnival of Death." Granted, trains can't just casually pull over to take on random passengers, but the supernatural element makes me slightly more willing to let than one slide.

There wasn't much to it - the whole thing was only 20 or so pages. It was a little confusing, and it featured yet another instance of a young woman who I assume was at least in her twenties being referred to as a "girl." I've read and watched better supernatural train stories. Still, it wasn't bad.

Overall, this book wasn't for me, and I have no intention of reading more of Hubbard's works.

(Original review posted on A Library Girl's Familiar Diversions.) show less

“Scientology is bullshit! Man, I was there the night L. Ron Hubbard invented it, for Christ's sakes! … We were sitting around one night... who else was there? Alfred Bester, and Cyril Kornbluth, and Lester del Rey, and Ron Hubbard, who was making a penny a word, and had been for years. And he said "This bullshit's got to stop!" He says, "I gotta get money." He says, "I want to get rich". And somebody said, "why don't you invent a new religion? They're always big." We were clowning! You show more know, "Become Elmer Gantry! You'll make a fortune!" He says, "I'm going to do it."

In "The Real Harlan Ellison" from Wings Interview (November-December 1978) p. 32”

In 1990 I read a Hubbard novel thinking it was science fiction. It was a fine sleep-inducing bit. The 1100 pages of "Battlefield Earth" could induce a lengthy coma. Like a fool, I finished it and discovered afterwards that I had forgotten how to read. It was weeks before I could read another book. It was comically awful, and implied quite strongly that Hubbard was a mysogynist and who enjoyed quite weirdly sexualised prose. I'm hardly a paragon of political correctness, but I found it to be in fairly poor taste. Scientology was small at the time, and I knew then that it was a cult, but I assumed too few people would be stupid enough for it to proliferate into the monster it is today. I underestimated the stupidity of celebrities I guess.

Back in my awkward teenage SF hoarding years (as opposed to my current awkward 50-something clutter-hoarding years), I picked up the first book in the Mission Earth “dekalogy”. Mission Earth (all ten, there was a blurb on the back of all of them saying that they had to invent a new word "dekalogy" to describe the magnificence of Hubbard's achievement!). If you really want the full dose of Hubbard crazy, Mission Earth is the series to read (not “Battlefield Earth). Even back then the homophobia, anti-psycologist rhetoric, a healthy dose of misogyny, and so much more was simply horrifying. Even while reading it I was horrified, but I still read all ten crappy books.

Re-reading “Battlefield Earth” now I wasn’t able to finish it, perhaps reading 100 pages or so, which is a trait that I picked up a long time ago and have cherished ever since. I've always been able to close a book or walk out of a movie. But I still don’t know why I kept “Battlefield Earth” for over 30 years in my home library…

Hubbard was a cynical scumbag who made himself rich by literally making up an absurd pseudo-religion. But despite his character flaws and his dubious legacy, Hubbard's short novels for Campbell's “Unknown Worlds” and “Astounding Stories” in the 40s are generally pretty spiffy and worth reading. I'm speaking of “Final Blackout”, “Fear”, Typewriter in the Sky”, “Slaves of Sleep”, and “Death's Deputy”. A pity we're unlikely to see any of these reprinted nowadays.

I propose promoting chimps to human status and demoting these dipshits because of their wanton disregard for human intelligence. My dog is smarter than these. show less

This audiobook had me laughing in the first paragraph with old Laramie cussin his hosses callin out "Carnsarn ye for a pair of busted-down, walleyed, spavined ignorantipedes!"

"Ignorantipedes!" Hell I cain't look at THAT word and not start laughin agin. Fine start. An his ole chuck wagon is a creakin' and a groanin' with them thar fine rickety sound effects while that chuck wagon cook be a fussin' away. Damn if he don't complain as much as his wagon.

There's a twist in the end for Ole Laramie show more that had me done bust out with a "Pah-ha" of laughter in the end.

It's a bit of a colorful moral tale set in the old west that Aesop might salute Mr Hubbard for here, or crown with a laurel wreath, because he did it so well and I didn't see it coming, (and unlike Aesop he doesn't state the moral of the story, you fill in the blank yourself).

Like he done snuck up on me from behind and said, "BOO!" show less

Really liked this one! Part morality play and part psychology, we have one Bob "Lawbook" Dixon, who considers he's tough. He catches a man and beats him nearly to death, and when he tries to run, Bob shoots him, maiming him for life! But "he's a criminal, and criminals are all rats!". The woman he tells this to says "My dad was a criminal, is he a rat?"

So much for having a code to live by that is so strict, allows for no flexibility. It gets so bad that he gets fired from the Mounted Police show more for cruelty.

Later, he gets framed for a crime he did not commit. On the run, he moves to prove his innocence, and falls in love at the same time!

The dogfight scenes with the planes in the air, mixed with bravery and a machine gun or two, make for some exciting page-turner fiction.

Recommended. show less