Re-Read: The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, by L. Frank Baum

I’m a huge fan of the musical Wicked, and have been since I was in middle school. After the first movie adaptation came out last year, I thought it would be fun to revisit the book that inspired it all, and read the rest of Baum’s Oz books. The 1939 film adaptation was a key touchstone of my childhood, and while I’ve read the original before, it’s been an incredibly long time. (Actually, come to think of it, it might be that I’ve only read the Great Illustrated Classics adaptation of the original… maybe this isn’t a re-read 🤷🏻‍♂️.) Off to Project Gutenberg I went, because all 14 of Baum’s original Oz books are in the public domain, and added the complete series to my kindle. They’ve sat there for over a year while I read more recent publications, but seeing Wicked: For Good (and reading a New York Times article about the lack of a “Great American Fantasy” that caused quite a ruckus in one of my Facebook groups) finally got me interested in revisiting my project.

Reading this book as an adult, I was struck by how simple it is. The narration is plain and straightforward; the characters have simple wants; and and the land of Oz is color coded! Munchkins wear blue, Winkies wear yellow, Quadlings wear red, and the people in and around the Emerald City wear green. I’m not sure what the people of Northern Oz are called or what color they wear because only the Witch of the North appears in this book, and witches wear white, which is unique to them.

The book’s simplicity might appear obvious when one considers that Oz is, at it’s heart, for children. Baum’s author’s note says that his goal was to write a new kind of fairytale: one for modern children who don’t need the moralization of Andersen and the Grimm brothers, but seek only to be entertained by a good story.

However, the simplicity of Baum’s style, both narratively and linguistically, doesn’t make his story any less effective. Even as an adult, I thoroughly enjoyed Dorothy’s adventure in Oz, and appreciated the fairytale qualities of it more than I ever could have as an adult. Baum’s myth making draws on tropes from across the gamut of ancient tales, from the rule of three common in European folktales to the nested stories of The Thousand-and-One Nights, as well as putting his own turn-of-the-twentieth-century spin on the tale. There’s a sheen of sarcastic humor reminiscent of O. Henry or Mark Twain that lightly veneers certain moments in the book, particularly towards the end. I appreciated these jokes as the kind of thing a kid might not recognize as they listened to their parents read the story, but the parents might chuckle at the inside joke.

I’m interested, as I continue the series, if Oz might be a contender for the “Great American Fantasy.” So much of the fantasy genre is tied up in European history, with feudal lords and knights in shining armor, but I want to find a fantasy that captures the American experience. I think King’s The Dark Tower will probably be a contender, but I think Oz should also get it’s due. It was here first, after all, and has probably had a greater cultural impact on the American consciousness by virtue of its film adaptation and perennial place in American childhood. Will the Wizard rule supreme over the American fantasy landscape?

Ask me again when I finish the series.