The Last American: A Fragment from the Journal of Khan-li, Prince of Dimph-yoo-chur and Admiral in the Persian Navy

In Short

This work is a satirical science fiction narrative presented as the field journal of an admiral in the Persian Navy, written in the year 2951. It chronicles a voyage to the "Western Continent," where the explorers discover the overgrown, skeletal remains of New York City and Washington, D.C. Through the eyes of a scholarly historian, the book critiques the late 19th-century American obsession with commerce, speed, and status. It has endured as an early example of "ruin literature," blending dry, pseudo-historical observation with a melancholic, cautionary vision of national decline.

The Story

The journal begins with Prince Khan-li and his crew aboard the Zlotuhb arriving on the coast of a mysterious, desolate land. Guided by the scholarly Nofuhl, the explorers quickly realize they have reached the legendary "Mehrika," a nation that vanished around 1990. Their first stop is the ruins of New York, a city reclaimed by nature. The explorers find the architecture monolithic and monotonous, reflecting, in their view, the shallow, imitative nature of the people who once lived there. They move through silent, weed-choked streets, finding remnants of a high-tech past—such as artificial illumination and sophisticated transportation—that the Persians can no longer replicate.

As they explore, the tone shifts from detached curiosity to a somber reflection on mortality. In a decaying mansion, they discover the mummified remains of a young woman, sparking a debate among the crew about the nature of American women, whom the Persians view as overly emancipated and "boyish." The expedition continues to a park—clearly Central Park—where they find an Egyptian obelisk and statues they dismiss as comic caricatures. Throughout the journey, the crew experiences bouts of a strange, debilitating fever, which one member attributes to the "shrieking voices" of the millions who perished there.

Seeking more relics, the crew decides to sail toward Washington, D.C., identified as the ancient capital. Upon arriving on July 4th, they discover something impossible: the survivors of the extinct race. In the marble halls of a grand temple, they meet an elderly man, a woman, and a younger man—the last three Americans. The encounter begins with a tense, clumsy attempt at communication. However, a cultural misunderstanding turns violent when a crew member attempts to accost the young woman. The last man, possessing a sudden, ferocious strength, defends his kin with a staff, killing or wounding several of the Persian visitors before he is himself struck down.

As the man dies, the explorers witness a chilling, supernatural sight: a nearby statue of George Washington bows its head in recognition of the final American's struggle. The survivors of the expedition flee back to the ship, carrying the heavy toll of their losses. The journal ends with Khan-li departing for Persia, taking with him the skull of the last man as a museum specimen, leaving the continent to its eternal, silent slumber.

How It Unfolds

The voyage begins The expedition sights a harbor and discovers the colossal, overgrown ruins of a city they eventually identify as New York. They find the atmosphere oppressive and the city’s scale incomprehensible, marveling at the preserved glass and iron that have survived a millennium of neglect.

Learning the history Nofuhl lectures the Prince on the character of the Americans, describing them as a nervous, money-obsessed people who favored commerce over culture. He explains that their civilization collapsed due to internal greed and a catastrophic naval war against a coalition of foreign powers.

The haunting discovery The crew explores a residential mansion where they find the preserved body of a woman, leading to a grim discussion about the dead civilization's values. Later, an officer experiences a spectral vision of a lavish dinner party, suggesting the city’s past still lingers in the ruins.

The final confrontation The expedition travels to the ruins of Washington, D.C., where they find the final three members of the American race living in a temple. A clash occurs, resulting in the death of the last, fierce defender of the American line and the massacre of several Persian crew members.

The People

Khan-li is the narrator and Prince of Dimph-yoo-chur. He is a man of status and curiosity, driven by the desire to document his findings for the Imperial Museum. He often finds the American culture beneath his dignity, yet he is frequently struck by the profound sadness of the ruins.

Nofuhl is the expedition’s resident historian and the "Fountain of Wisdom." He holds a deep, scholarly disdain for the Americans, viewing them as a "mongrel race" defined by their commercial failures. He is the intellectual engine of the voyage, providing the context that allows the crew to interpret the mysterious artifacts they uncover.

Lev-el-Hedyd is a spirited, observant member of the crew who is prone to melancholy and superstitious encounters. He is the one who witnesses the "ghostly" dinner party, acting as the emotional bridge between the present reality of the ruins and the haunting memory of the past.

The Last American is the final, unnamed male of his race. Though he is physically depleted—described as yellow-skinned and gaunt—he retains a fierce, protective instinct. He is a tragic figure, serving as the physical embodiment of a lost era, who dies defending the last remnants of his family and dignity against the invaders.

In Its Own Voice

"The wealth, luxury, and gradual decline of the native population; the frightful climatic changes which swept the country like a mower's scythe; the rapid conversion of a vast continent, alive with millions of pleasure-loving people, into a silent wilderness... all this is told by Noz-yt-ahl with force and accuracy."

This passage sets the tone of the book, establishing the historical framework used by the Persians to understand the fall of the American nation.

"As the Mehrikan staggered out upon the porch, his hands outstretched before him and with Death at his heart, this statue slowly bowed its head as if in recognition of a gallant fight."

This occurs in the final chapter, marking the moment when the Persians realize they have witnessed the end of a people, acknowledged even by the stone idol of their founding father.

What It's Really About

The book is a biting, satirical interrogation of the hubris of empire and the transience of wealth. It suggests that a nation built entirely on commercial success and the imitation of foreign trends is inherently brittle and bound to collapse. The author uses the Persians' perspective to frame American virtues—such as mechanical ingenuity and industrial speed—as hollow distractions that eventually led to a total loss of heritage. It asks what remains when a people stop producing culture and start only producing profit: the answer is a "silent wilderness" of iron, glass, and stone, devoid of the very spirit that once animated it.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy speculative archeology or historical "what-ifs" will find this a fascinating, if sobering, artifact of late 19th-century thought. It feels like a precursor to modern post-apocalyptic fiction, though it trades the grit of survival for the melancholy of an academic post-mortem.

One must be prepared for the period-specific attitudes; the author writes with a distinct, often jarring, air of racial and cultural superiority from the perspective of his Persian characters. The dialogue is deliberately stylized to sound ancient and "orientalized," which can make the reading experience feel dense or artificial at times. However, the book’s greatest strength is its evocative imagery of a future New York—a "silent wilderness" where the subway tunnels and skyscrapers are reclaimed by nature. It stays with you because it captures the specific, haunting fear that a nation's achievements, no matter how "marvelous," can be erased from memory until only a skeleton remains. It is a brief, intense read that serves as a mirror for the anxieties of its own time, reflecting a deep-seated fear that the American experiment might be as fragile as the glass in the windows of the ruins the explorers discover.