1995, first edition, from Hungry Tiger Press
David Maxine as Editor-in-Chief, Eric Shanower as Art Director
Oz Story Magazine, No. 1
Bought new for $14.95
Worn paperback
C+
Despite the title, this annual, which ran through 2000, is in the format of a tall paperback book of over 125 pages. It includes contributions from Oz historians Baum, Thompson, and Cosgrove, as well as artwork by Denslow and Neill, although it also has more modern contributions, not just from Shanower of course but a not-bad comic page called The Pathetic Losers of Oz. Overall, the pieces are uneven, with Baum's almost-50-pages-in-this-format Sam Steele's Adventures on Land and Sea, a boys' adventure story, mostly forgettable (except for the unfortunate repeated use of the N-word). I most enjoyed the reproductions of the comic strip The Wonderland of Oz by Sprouse, with new text by Shanower.
The decade tags represent when these works were originally published, which in some cases is in this issue.
Showing posts with label Baum. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Baum. Show all posts
Monday, September 23, 2013
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Glinda of Oz
1920, undated probably 1970s Reilly & Lee edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
Glinda of Oz
Bought new for unknown, but probably $7.95 like other Baum Oz hardcovers
Hardcover with stains
B
This time the "To Our Readers" is by the publishers, and after a summary of the book it tells of how "in May, nineteen hundred nineteen, [Mr. Baum] went away to take his stories to the little child-souls who had lived here too long ago to read the Oz stories for themselves." They promise more stories by Baum, although that's not what would happen.
It's a good story to end with, if still flawed. It's nice to see both Ozma and Glinda get off their thrones and have adventures, like back in the old days. Ozma contradicts herself on what magic she specializes in, compared to when she broke Mrs. Yoop's enchantments in Tin Woodman, since there she brewed and here she acts like she just relies on her fairy wand. We meet another Yookoohoo, Reera the Red, who's always been one of my favorite minor characters. We're again reminded that only Glinda and the Wizard can work magic according to Ozma's laws. (Well, Ozma herself is an exception.) Reera transforms the Three Adepts into themselves after they've been turned into fish, but Reera doesn't get in trouble because she's done it on condition that no one tell who did it. As for the Three Adepts, they claim they didn't know about Ozma's laws, and they are allowed to work magic to rescue Ozma, Dorothy, and the Skeezers on the sunken island.
On their journey north, Dorothy thinks it would be a good idea if everyone could perform magic, "and satisfy all their needs without so much work and worry," but Ozma believes that then no one would be happy, because there'd be nothing to strive for. If J. K. Rowling has read any Oz books, she must've read this one. Ozma's argument would work coming from Dumbledore, and it's similar to something Hagrid says to Harry. Also, Glinda features giant talking spiders and magic tents.
Ironically, it's Dorothy who solves the mystery of Queen Coo-ee-oh's magic, by figuring out that the three magical acts that the queen performs each require a syllable of her name. There's also some technology involved, so we're a long way from the sylvan weaving of Zixi. This is possibly the oldest book I own that mentions submarines, but then I don't own much Verne. My favorite gizmo is the skeropythrope, partly because of the name and partly because of the illustration. It doesn't work but the sparks look awesome.
This is another book where Ozma gets involved in politics, but the Skeezers and the Flatheads are residents of Oz, and so her interference seems more justified than in Ozma. It's a bit odd that her diplomatic team is just herself and Dorothy, when the rescue team is huge, again, like in Lost Princess, too large. For instance, Button-Bright is included mostly so that he can get lost, but there's no pay-off like him finding the enchanted peach. I am glad that the Patchwork Girl is along, and that Baum points out that Scraps's silliness often makes people dismiss her clever ideas, since that's what happens when she makes the same suggestion twice and is dissed the first time. No wonder Neill draws her as making faces at the reader.
Uncle Henry is also one of the rescue party, out of his concern for his niece, which is sweet, even if they haven't interacted in the books since he settled in Oz. No mention of Aunt Em.
The rulers of the Skeezers and the Flatheads, Coo-Ee-Oh and the Su-dic (Supreme Dictator), are both vain and selfish, in different ways than the interregnum Princess Languidere of Ev. At the end, Ozma reinstalls the Three Adepts as rulers of the Flatheads (whom Glinda has made into normal-headed people, with brains inside), and appoints Lady Aurex as ruler of the Skeezers, with clever young Ervic as Prime Minister. Ervic is for his few chapters the unsung hero of the book, outsmarting Reera and saving the Adepts.
I'm glad that Glinda got a book named after her, but this story isn't about her in the way that Tin Woodman is about Nick Chopper. Glinda is brave and clever, but she doesn't really stand out among so many brave and/or clever people. She's not even the only, or the best, magician.
I do like the cover with its vaguely goddess-trinity arrangement of Glinda, Ozma, and Dorothy, although it's a "mother" and two maidens rather than Maiden, Mother, and Crone. The back cover shows Scraps and Jack cozying up, although there is an illustration inside of Scraps with her arms around the Scarecrow and Tin Woodman. Maybe now that she's a regular, she's gotten past the infatuation stage with the Scarecrow and is just affectionate with everyone.
I'm not happy with the way that Neill generally does Ozma's hair in this book. On the cover, it's the usual length, but mostly he gives her a weird compromise length, like a bad 1960s bouffant. Sometimes he draws Dorothy's like this, too, only blonde rather than brunette of course. Even stranger, he gives Coo-ee-oh ringlets that look vaguely like a British judge's wig, especially since he usually forgets to make them the black color mentioned in the text. He does well with Reera, particularly in the picture of her, Ervic, and her pets on p. 215. Not everyone can rock a chef's hat while lounging, but Reera does.
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
Glinda of Oz
Bought new for unknown, but probably $7.95 like other Baum Oz hardcovers
Hardcover with stains
B
This time the "To Our Readers" is by the publishers, and after a summary of the book it tells of how "in May, nineteen hundred nineteen, [Mr. Baum] went away to take his stories to the little child-souls who had lived here too long ago to read the Oz stories for themselves." They promise more stories by Baum, although that's not what would happen.
It's a good story to end with, if still flawed. It's nice to see both Ozma and Glinda get off their thrones and have adventures, like back in the old days. Ozma contradicts herself on what magic she specializes in, compared to when she broke Mrs. Yoop's enchantments in Tin Woodman, since there she brewed and here she acts like she just relies on her fairy wand. We meet another Yookoohoo, Reera the Red, who's always been one of my favorite minor characters. We're again reminded that only Glinda and the Wizard can work magic according to Ozma's laws. (Well, Ozma herself is an exception.) Reera transforms the Three Adepts into themselves after they've been turned into fish, but Reera doesn't get in trouble because she's done it on condition that no one tell who did it. As for the Three Adepts, they claim they didn't know about Ozma's laws, and they are allowed to work magic to rescue Ozma, Dorothy, and the Skeezers on the sunken island.
On their journey north, Dorothy thinks it would be a good idea if everyone could perform magic, "and satisfy all their needs without so much work and worry," but Ozma believes that then no one would be happy, because there'd be nothing to strive for. If J. K. Rowling has read any Oz books, she must've read this one. Ozma's argument would work coming from Dumbledore, and it's similar to something Hagrid says to Harry. Also, Glinda features giant talking spiders and magic tents.
Ironically, it's Dorothy who solves the mystery of Queen Coo-ee-oh's magic, by figuring out that the three magical acts that the queen performs each require a syllable of her name. There's also some technology involved, so we're a long way from the sylvan weaving of Zixi. This is possibly the oldest book I own that mentions submarines, but then I don't own much Verne. My favorite gizmo is the skeropythrope, partly because of the name and partly because of the illustration. It doesn't work but the sparks look awesome.
This is another book where Ozma gets involved in politics, but the Skeezers and the Flatheads are residents of Oz, and so her interference seems more justified than in Ozma. It's a bit odd that her diplomatic team is just herself and Dorothy, when the rescue team is huge, again, like in Lost Princess, too large. For instance, Button-Bright is included mostly so that he can get lost, but there's no pay-off like him finding the enchanted peach. I am glad that the Patchwork Girl is along, and that Baum points out that Scraps's silliness often makes people dismiss her clever ideas, since that's what happens when she makes the same suggestion twice and is dissed the first time. No wonder Neill draws her as making faces at the reader.
Uncle Henry is also one of the rescue party, out of his concern for his niece, which is sweet, even if they haven't interacted in the books since he settled in Oz. No mention of Aunt Em.
The rulers of the Skeezers and the Flatheads, Coo-Ee-Oh and the Su-dic (Supreme Dictator), are both vain and selfish, in different ways than the interregnum Princess Languidere of Ev. At the end, Ozma reinstalls the Three Adepts as rulers of the Flatheads (whom Glinda has made into normal-headed people, with brains inside), and appoints Lady Aurex as ruler of the Skeezers, with clever young Ervic as Prime Minister. Ervic is for his few chapters the unsung hero of the book, outsmarting Reera and saving the Adepts.
I'm glad that Glinda got a book named after her, but this story isn't about her in the way that Tin Woodman is about Nick Chopper. Glinda is brave and clever, but she doesn't really stand out among so many brave and/or clever people. She's not even the only, or the best, magician.
I do like the cover with its vaguely goddess-trinity arrangement of Glinda, Ozma, and Dorothy, although it's a "mother" and two maidens rather than Maiden, Mother, and Crone. The back cover shows Scraps and Jack cozying up, although there is an illustration inside of Scraps with her arms around the Scarecrow and Tin Woodman. Maybe now that she's a regular, she's gotten past the infatuation stage with the Scarecrow and is just affectionate with everyone.
I'm not happy with the way that Neill generally does Ozma's hair in this book. On the cover, it's the usual length, but mostly he gives her a weird compromise length, like a bad 1960s bouffant. Sometimes he draws Dorothy's like this, too, only blonde rather than brunette of course. Even stranger, he gives Coo-ee-oh ringlets that look vaguely like a British judge's wig, especially since he usually forgets to make them the black color mentioned in the text. He does well with Reera, particularly in the picture of her, Ervic, and her pets on p. 215. Not everyone can rock a chef's hat while lounging, but Reera does.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
The Magic of Oz
1919, undated probably 1970s Rand McNally edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Magic of Oz
Bought new for $1.95
Paperback with stains and broken spine
B+
This is another book with Ozma's birthday, but much stronger than Road. This time the focus is on the gifts, particularly what Dorothy & the Wizard and Trot, Cap'n Bill, & the Glass Cat have to go through to get their gifts. Meanwhile, the Nome King is again hoping to conquer Oz. The three main plots are good on their own and interweave well.
The last plot I mentioned is the subject of the first three chapters. Bad boy Kiki Aru discovers a secret word of transformation, "Pyrzqxgl," which would also give him the winning score in Scrabble. As a child, I loved how coy Baum is about warning readers to not pronounce the word correctly, although I'm sure every child tried. Kiki makes himself into a bird and flies from his home on Mount Munch (the mountain that Nimmie lives near) to Hiland, Loland, Noland, Ix, and Ev, although we barely get glimpses of these places, unlike the visit to Mo in Scarecrow. (He has no trouble speaking as a bird, despite Baum sometimes claiming that animals can't talk outside Oz.) He encounters the Nome King, who encourages him to use the magic word for evil purposes. Kiki is inexperienced, but he knows enough not to fully trust Ruggedo.
Dorothy and the Wizard, with the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger as transportation and protection, journey to the Gillikin Forest in order to get monkeys who'll agree to be shrunk and pop out of a cake. They arrive just as the Nome King and Kiki, disguised as Li-Mon-Eags (lion-monkey-eagle hybrids) try to get the wild animals on their side. There's a slight parody of the Russian Revolution in the Nome King's speech to get the beasts to revolt, and earlier he remarks to Kiki that it's the fashion to make kings abdicate.
There are also references to the just finished Great War, as in Baum's dedication (which usually is to his family members), this time to "the Children of our Soldiers, the Americans and their Allies." And Neill gives the giant soldiers, which Kiki creates out of monkeys, the headgear of doughboys and other servicemen, rather than the plumes described in the text. For all the mockery of war and officers, Baum does seem to respect the bravery of the foot soldier. In fact, he shows female soldiers as especially gallant, Jinjur's Army of Revolt aside. Even in Land, Glinda's female army is treated with respect.
I wonder what those who think the Oz books are satanic would make of Cap'n Bill's speech about how people take the good things in their lives for granted, since he says in part, "Most folks forget to thank God for givin' 'em two good legs, till they lose one o' 'em, like I did; and then it's too late, 'cept to praise God for leavin' one." The piety here is simple and unassuming, as suits the speaker, but therefore easy to overlook.
Cap'n Bill and Trot are stuck on a magical island where a beautiful, ever-changing flower grows. Anything "meat" grows roots, like flesh, wool socks, and leather shoes, so the Glass Cat who's led them there is able to go get help. Bungle is more prominent in this book but just as vain yet loyal as ever. At the end of Patchwork Girl, the Wizard had replaced the cat's pink brains with ones that weren't so pretty, but Baum has forgotten that, along with Bungle's brief humility. The other feline regular, Eureka, gets a brief scene with Bungle, and we can tell the two cats don't get along. In fact, when the miniaturized monkeys later get even with Bungle for pulling their tails by covering her in blue mud, it is the thought of what her furry rival would say that particularly worries Bungle.
This book also marks the return of the Kalidahs, well, one in particular that Cap'n Bill stabs. It doesn't die but it is annoyed. Baum doesn't describe the Kalidah this time, probably knowing that readers well remember the creature from the first book. Neill's Kalidah is more realistic than the ones Denslow drew, but not any scarier.
The most notable illustration for this edition is the odd cover, as can be seen here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Magic_of_oz_cover.gif
The guilty look of the monkey, the amused look of the Wizard, and the odd trail of smoke coming from behind the monkey suggest the creature has farted in the cauldron.
I'm disappointed in the illustrations of the Magic Flower, since Neill doesn't convey its beauty. I do like the illustration of when it offers fruit for awhile. Similarly, Neill doesn't do justice to the diamond palace of the Lonesome Duck (a great minor character), but I like the look of amazement on Dorothy's face in that picture.
In Baum's introduction, he says, "A long and confining illness has prevented my answering all the good letters sent me-- unless stamps were enclosed-- but from now on I hope to be able to give prompt attention to each and every letter with which my readers favor me." It's sweet that Baum answered all the fan letters he could, but then you realize that he had died the month before this book came out. The Royal Historian was not quite done, as there was another posthumous book the next year, but his contradictory yet lovable version of Oz was nearly complete.
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Magic of Oz
Bought new for $1.95
Paperback with stains and broken spine
B+
This is another book with Ozma's birthday, but much stronger than Road. This time the focus is on the gifts, particularly what Dorothy & the Wizard and Trot, Cap'n Bill, & the Glass Cat have to go through to get their gifts. Meanwhile, the Nome King is again hoping to conquer Oz. The three main plots are good on their own and interweave well.
The last plot I mentioned is the subject of the first three chapters. Bad boy Kiki Aru discovers a secret word of transformation, "Pyrzqxgl," which would also give him the winning score in Scrabble. As a child, I loved how coy Baum is about warning readers to not pronounce the word correctly, although I'm sure every child tried. Kiki makes himself into a bird and flies from his home on Mount Munch (the mountain that Nimmie lives near) to Hiland, Loland, Noland, Ix, and Ev, although we barely get glimpses of these places, unlike the visit to Mo in Scarecrow. (He has no trouble speaking as a bird, despite Baum sometimes claiming that animals can't talk outside Oz.) He encounters the Nome King, who encourages him to use the magic word for evil purposes. Kiki is inexperienced, but he knows enough not to fully trust Ruggedo.
Dorothy and the Wizard, with the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger as transportation and protection, journey to the Gillikin Forest in order to get monkeys who'll agree to be shrunk and pop out of a cake. They arrive just as the Nome King and Kiki, disguised as Li-Mon-Eags (lion-monkey-eagle hybrids) try to get the wild animals on their side. There's a slight parody of the Russian Revolution in the Nome King's speech to get the beasts to revolt, and earlier he remarks to Kiki that it's the fashion to make kings abdicate.
There are also references to the just finished Great War, as in Baum's dedication (which usually is to his family members), this time to "the Children of our Soldiers, the Americans and their Allies." And Neill gives the giant soldiers, which Kiki creates out of monkeys, the headgear of doughboys and other servicemen, rather than the plumes described in the text. For all the mockery of war and officers, Baum does seem to respect the bravery of the foot soldier. In fact, he shows female soldiers as especially gallant, Jinjur's Army of Revolt aside. Even in Land, Glinda's female army is treated with respect.
I wonder what those who think the Oz books are satanic would make of Cap'n Bill's speech about how people take the good things in their lives for granted, since he says in part, "Most folks forget to thank God for givin' 'em two good legs, till they lose one o' 'em, like I did; and then it's too late, 'cept to praise God for leavin' one." The piety here is simple and unassuming, as suits the speaker, but therefore easy to overlook.
Cap'n Bill and Trot are stuck on a magical island where a beautiful, ever-changing flower grows. Anything "meat" grows roots, like flesh, wool socks, and leather shoes, so the Glass Cat who's led them there is able to go get help. Bungle is more prominent in this book but just as vain yet loyal as ever. At the end of Patchwork Girl, the Wizard had replaced the cat's pink brains with ones that weren't so pretty, but Baum has forgotten that, along with Bungle's brief humility. The other feline regular, Eureka, gets a brief scene with Bungle, and we can tell the two cats don't get along. In fact, when the miniaturized monkeys later get even with Bungle for pulling their tails by covering her in blue mud, it is the thought of what her furry rival would say that particularly worries Bungle.
This book also marks the return of the Kalidahs, well, one in particular that Cap'n Bill stabs. It doesn't die but it is annoyed. Baum doesn't describe the Kalidah this time, probably knowing that readers well remember the creature from the first book. Neill's Kalidah is more realistic than the ones Denslow drew, but not any scarier.
The most notable illustration for this edition is the odd cover, as can be seen here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Magic_of_oz_cover.gif
The guilty look of the monkey, the amused look of the Wizard, and the odd trail of smoke coming from behind the monkey suggest the creature has farted in the cauldron.
I'm disappointed in the illustrations of the Magic Flower, since Neill doesn't convey its beauty. I do like the illustration of when it offers fruit for awhile. Similarly, Neill doesn't do justice to the diamond palace of the Lonesome Duck (a great minor character), but I like the look of amazement on Dorothy's face in that picture.
In Baum's introduction, he says, "A long and confining illness has prevented my answering all the good letters sent me-- unless stamps were enclosed-- but from now on I hope to be able to give prompt attention to each and every letter with which my readers favor me." It's sweet that Baum answered all the fan letters he could, but then you realize that he had died the month before this book came out. The Royal Historian was not quite done, as there was another posthumous book the next year, but his contradictory yet lovable version of Oz was nearly complete.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
The Tin Woodman of Oz
1918, undated probably 1970s Reilly & Lee edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Tin Woodman of Oz
Bought new for $7.95
Slightly stained hardcover but one of my Oz books in better condition
B
In the 1939 movie of The Wizard of Oz, the Tin Woodman is always referred to as "the Tin Man," but I think Baum used the term "the Tin Woodman" (along with Nick Chopper and the Emperor of the Winkies of course) until this book, where he starts to sometimes say "the Tin Man." This is ironic since, as the cover shows, there are now two Tin Men. Perhaps he got tired of the longer name.
This other tin man is the Tin Soldier, and they were made in similar ways for similar reasons. There are differences, however, in Nick's origin story in the first book and the twelfth, particularly in the Wicked Witch of the West's role in the life of the Munchkin girl Nick loved, here revealed to be named Nimmie Amee. The Tin Soldier came along after Nick was rusted in the woods but before Dorothy rescued Nick. The not-yet-tin soldier, named Captain Fyter, got Nimmie on the rebound, and then the vengeful witch enchanted his sword as she'd enchanted Nick's axe, so he, too, chopped pieces of himself off, one at a time.
Their mutual friend the tinsmith replaced each part with tin, and in this book we find out he's been saving the "meat" pieces. Why? So as not to be wasteful, although it's still a bit horror-storyish. And in fact, he's made a sort of Frankenstein's monster out of them, named Chopfyt, even the name a mishmash of the two tin men. Chopfyt doesn't have a blend of their personalities though. He's moody and a bit lazy. He's also married Nimmie, since he reminds her of the two men she loved.
That's at the end of the quest to resolve Chopper's (and Fyter's) abandonment of the girl years ago. Even though no one ages in Oz (any more at least), people do get over heartbreak and move on with their lives. The tin twins (as Baum calls them a few times) think Nimmie is pining for one or both of them, so they'll give her the choice between them, but she's already chosen a husband.
Along the way, they meet Mrs. Yoop, who's not only a giant but a yookoohoo, which is not exactly a witch and not exactly a sorceress. (I believe that there's another yookoohoo in the last Baum book.) She doesn't miss her brutish husband, but she is lonely for company. She imprison the travelers, which at this point includes a boy wanderer named Woot (not to be confused with netspeak w00t), the Tin Woodman of course, and his faithful companion the Scarecrow. They meet another prisoner, Polychrome, who in this book comes across as very clever and kind. Mrs. Yoop transforms her and Nick into birds, which is ironic in light of the conversation that Nick and the Scarecrow have about the happiness of a bird's life near the end of Lost Princess.
After their escape but before meeting Capt. Fyter, Woot meets some dragons, and as always with Baum, there are jokes about how dragons age so slowly. We also spend a few chapters with Jinjur, and I have to ask, what happened to her husband? On the journey from the Nome Kingdom to the Emerald City in Ozma, they stop by Jinjur's place and she's gotten married to a man that she nags and hits. (As Nimmie treats Chopfyt.) She's mentioned in passing as the Scarecrow's friend and touch-up artist in Patchwork Girl. And here we visit her ranch and there's no sight or mention of her husband. Did he run off? Is there divorce in Oz? Altogether, the view of love and marriage in this book is not a happy one.
Well, the Swynes are happy. The proposal party meets the parents of the Nine Tiny Piglets, who give a completely different view of how the Wizard acquired their children than the story he told in DatW. You know what I think of the Wizard's honesty, so I'm inclined to believe the parent pigs and assume that he took the piglets sometime before he flew off in his balloon and made up the more colorful story about them as part of his showman's spiel.
The place that the questers go to that feels most original is Loonville, which is populated by balloon people whose last names are all Loon, including their king, Bal. There's also Panta Loon, who gets too big for his britches and explodes. He's repaired by Til Loon. As a child, I would rack my brains trying to figure out what a "tilloon" was. It wasn't till much later that I realized that Baum was referencing a 1914 Chaplin movie, Tillie's Punctured Romance. This certainly fits the theme of puncturing romance.
The other theme in the book is identity, since the tin men go into existential crises, starting with Nick talking to his "meat head," and climaxing in the encounter with Chopfyt. Even their mostly amicable twinship (made more amicable in the illustrations) has its limits, and Ozma ends up sending the captain to patrol the dangerous parts of the Gillikin Country, in order to keep him mostly out of sight and not reduce Nick's uniqueness.
Another story that is retold in this book is the origin of Oz and Ozma. Although in other books Ozma and Dorothy look about the same age, here we're told that Ozma looks a bit older than Dorothy, "perhaps fourteen or fifteen years of age." She may or may not be the fairy that Queen Lurline (a version of Queen Lulea in Zixi?) left behind to rule Oz after transforming it into a fairyland. That's the moment when Oz became a utopia, where no one ever ages, including those who emigrate from the outside world. I think that when the throne is usurped, as happened with the Wizard, people (including the Wizard and Tip-Ozma) do age, and then the utopian laws gradually reassert themselves when the rightful ruler is on the throne.
Again, I think Baum needed stronger editors, not just for each book (and there are always a few typos), but for the entire series, to improve continuity and consistency. The different versions of stories are interesting but impossible to reconcile. Still, this is one case where I disagree with The Oz Scrapbook (1977). I generally concur with their ranking of the Baum books, but I would not put this as a lesser entry in the series.
Speaking of errors, there are a few of Neill's illustrations that don't match the text, like Polychrome being herself rather than a canary when she feeds the Jaguar eggs. His work is generally good but not remarkable in this book. He does begin to use two-page pictures to good effect, as when Woot, Nick, and the Scarecrow talk to Mrs. Yoop. These double illustrations will become more common as the series goes on.
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Tin Woodman of Oz
Bought new for $7.95
Slightly stained hardcover but one of my Oz books in better condition
B
In the 1939 movie of The Wizard of Oz, the Tin Woodman is always referred to as "the Tin Man," but I think Baum used the term "the Tin Woodman" (along with Nick Chopper and the Emperor of the Winkies of course) until this book, where he starts to sometimes say "the Tin Man." This is ironic since, as the cover shows, there are now two Tin Men. Perhaps he got tired of the longer name.
This other tin man is the Tin Soldier, and they were made in similar ways for similar reasons. There are differences, however, in Nick's origin story in the first book and the twelfth, particularly in the Wicked Witch of the West's role in the life of the Munchkin girl Nick loved, here revealed to be named Nimmie Amee. The Tin Soldier came along after Nick was rusted in the woods but before Dorothy rescued Nick. The not-yet-tin soldier, named Captain Fyter, got Nimmie on the rebound, and then the vengeful witch enchanted his sword as she'd enchanted Nick's axe, so he, too, chopped pieces of himself off, one at a time.
Their mutual friend the tinsmith replaced each part with tin, and in this book we find out he's been saving the "meat" pieces. Why? So as not to be wasteful, although it's still a bit horror-storyish. And in fact, he's made a sort of Frankenstein's monster out of them, named Chopfyt, even the name a mishmash of the two tin men. Chopfyt doesn't have a blend of their personalities though. He's moody and a bit lazy. He's also married Nimmie, since he reminds her of the two men she loved.
That's at the end of the quest to resolve Chopper's (and Fyter's) abandonment of the girl years ago. Even though no one ages in Oz (any more at least), people do get over heartbreak and move on with their lives. The tin twins (as Baum calls them a few times) think Nimmie is pining for one or both of them, so they'll give her the choice between them, but she's already chosen a husband.
Along the way, they meet Mrs. Yoop, who's not only a giant but a yookoohoo, which is not exactly a witch and not exactly a sorceress. (I believe that there's another yookoohoo in the last Baum book.) She doesn't miss her brutish husband, but she is lonely for company. She imprison the travelers, which at this point includes a boy wanderer named Woot (not to be confused with netspeak w00t), the Tin Woodman of course, and his faithful companion the Scarecrow. They meet another prisoner, Polychrome, who in this book comes across as very clever and kind. Mrs. Yoop transforms her and Nick into birds, which is ironic in light of the conversation that Nick and the Scarecrow have about the happiness of a bird's life near the end of Lost Princess.
After their escape but before meeting Capt. Fyter, Woot meets some dragons, and as always with Baum, there are jokes about how dragons age so slowly. We also spend a few chapters with Jinjur, and I have to ask, what happened to her husband? On the journey from the Nome Kingdom to the Emerald City in Ozma, they stop by Jinjur's place and she's gotten married to a man that she nags and hits. (As Nimmie treats Chopfyt.) She's mentioned in passing as the Scarecrow's friend and touch-up artist in Patchwork Girl. And here we visit her ranch and there's no sight or mention of her husband. Did he run off? Is there divorce in Oz? Altogether, the view of love and marriage in this book is not a happy one.
Well, the Swynes are happy. The proposal party meets the parents of the Nine Tiny Piglets, who give a completely different view of how the Wizard acquired their children than the story he told in DatW. You know what I think of the Wizard's honesty, so I'm inclined to believe the parent pigs and assume that he took the piglets sometime before he flew off in his balloon and made up the more colorful story about them as part of his showman's spiel.
The place that the questers go to that feels most original is Loonville, which is populated by balloon people whose last names are all Loon, including their king, Bal. There's also Panta Loon, who gets too big for his britches and explodes. He's repaired by Til Loon. As a child, I would rack my brains trying to figure out what a "tilloon" was. It wasn't till much later that I realized that Baum was referencing a 1914 Chaplin movie, Tillie's Punctured Romance. This certainly fits the theme of puncturing romance.
The other theme in the book is identity, since the tin men go into existential crises, starting with Nick talking to his "meat head," and climaxing in the encounter with Chopfyt. Even their mostly amicable twinship (made more amicable in the illustrations) has its limits, and Ozma ends up sending the captain to patrol the dangerous parts of the Gillikin Country, in order to keep him mostly out of sight and not reduce Nick's uniqueness.
Another story that is retold in this book is the origin of Oz and Ozma. Although in other books Ozma and Dorothy look about the same age, here we're told that Ozma looks a bit older than Dorothy, "perhaps fourteen or fifteen years of age." She may or may not be the fairy that Queen Lurline (a version of Queen Lulea in Zixi?) left behind to rule Oz after transforming it into a fairyland. That's the moment when Oz became a utopia, where no one ever ages, including those who emigrate from the outside world. I think that when the throne is usurped, as happened with the Wizard, people (including the Wizard and Tip-Ozma) do age, and then the utopian laws gradually reassert themselves when the rightful ruler is on the throne.
Again, I think Baum needed stronger editors, not just for each book (and there are always a few typos), but for the entire series, to improve continuity and consistency. The different versions of stories are interesting but impossible to reconcile. Still, this is one case where I disagree with The Oz Scrapbook (1977). I generally concur with their ranking of the Baum books, but I would not put this as a lesser entry in the series.
Speaking of errors, there are a few of Neill's illustrations that don't match the text, like Polychrome being herself rather than a canary when she feeds the Jaguar eggs. His work is generally good but not remarkable in this book. He does begin to use two-page pictures to good effect, as when Woot, Nick, and the Scarecrow talk to Mrs. Yoop. These double illustrations will become more common as the series goes on.
Friday, March 30, 2012
The Lost Princess of Oz
1917, undated probably 1980s Contemporary Books edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Lost Princess of Oz
Bought new for $3.95
Paperback with stains and loose pages
B-
This is the second time Ozma is the title character, since she's again been kidnapped, this time by Ugu the Shoemaker. The book has a number of plotholes and inconsistencies, most importantly that Ugu has learned some facts about Oz from the "books of his ancestors." This magic includes that Ozma is the fairy ruler of Oz, that Glinda is the most powerful sorceress and owns the Great Book of Records, that the Wizard is Glinda's student, and that there's a magic dishpan in the Yip Country. Only the last of these facts could've been recorded in a book owned even by Ugu's father, who abandoned the now middle-aged Ugu as a boy. Ozma has clearly not been on the throne for decades. (As for her being a fairy, that's a relatively recent development of Baum's, and somewhat inconsistent with her being changed into a boy who aged.) Glinda has been around for decades, but I don't think she owned the Record Book before Ozma came to the throne, because in Land she spoke of her spies gathering knowledge about the Wizard, rather than of a book that automatically recorded significant events around the world. And obviously, the Wizard hasn't been in training that long, only since the time of the fifth book at most, since he returned to Oz in the fourth and told of his apprenticeship in the sixth.
The two maps, one of Oz and the other showing the paths of the two main search parties, again put the Winkie Country in the West and right. The second map is spoilery, being on p. 75 and showing Ugu's castle as the final destination. But then this isn't really a mystery we're meant to solve. It's a rather meandering quest, better than the search for Shaggy's brother, but less gripping than Ojo's hunt for magic ingredients.
Part of the problem is that there are too many characters. Dorothy's group includes the other two little girls (Trot and Betsy), Button-Bright, the Wizard, the Patchwork Girl, the Cowardly Lion, the Woozy, the Sawhorse, Hank, and Toto, eleven total. The other search parties (most of whom we don't follow) consist of two to four people. I would've cut Dorothy's group down to her (since she wears the Magic Belt), Button-Bright (since he finds the peach that Ozma's hidden in), the Patchwork Girl (since she's clever and fun), the Cowardly Lion, the Woozy, and maybe Toto, five or six total. Toto, by the way, talks more in this book, but since he's mostly whining about losing his growl, I'm inclined to agree with the other animals that he shouldn't talk so much. The Cowardly Lion is as insightful as ever.
Baum still hasn't found a way to distinguish Trot and particularly Betsy as unique from Dorothy. In the illustrations, Betsy has longer hair, as she did in Rinkitink. Baum tells us that Betsy is a year older than Dorothy, who's a year older than Trot. He hasn't yet explained that people have stopped aging in Oz, but it's starting to be implied. Button-Bright is younger than Ojo, and we know he's younger than Trot and Dorothy. In Road, he seemed to be about half Dorothy's age, say 4 or 5 to her 8 or 9. He was half a head shorter than Trot in Scarecrow. If I remember correctly, Thompson will make Trot 9, I think in Giant Horse, so when we get to that point, I'll try to approximate the other kids' ages.
The other party we follow is the pair from Yip, Cayke the Cookie Cook (owner of the Dishpan) and the Frogman. The latter is like the Wogglebug in that he thinks his size and education make him very wise and impressive, but he takes a humbling bath in the Truth Pond, which since its appearance in Road has gained a plaque explaining its purpose. They're joined by two of the bears from Bear Center. Eight years after Teddy Roosevelt left office, teddy bears are still popular enough to inspire a whole city of them.
Ugu thinks he's stolen all the magic of Oz, but he doesn't know about the Nome King's Magic Belt or the magic of the Bear King. The Bear King can show you anything in the world, which leads to a great "infinity picture" of the united parties watching Ugu watch them watch him etc. As for the Belt, Dorothy isn't sure how to work it, despite having used it a bit in Ozma. She reveals that she's been practicing with it, a time when Baum should show not tell. She finds that the Belt will only grant one wish a day by closing her right eye and wiggling her "left toe" (which one?), restrictions that did not exist in Ozma or Emerald City, and then she manages to perform at least three wishes in quick succession.
This book could definitely have used some revision, but it's still better than Road, with an actual villain and plot, and more interesting places to visit. Of these, the City of Thi is probably best, with the diamond-shaped people who eat thistles, ride around in very slow auto-chariots pulled by dragons, and obey the man who's secretly their king. There's an odd picture on p. 165 of the giants of Herku, all of whom are bearded and fierce, except for one clean-shaven, vain-looking man. I suspect this was a caricature of someone Neill knew.
This is my 200th post (not counting the introduction), so let's see how things stack up since Vanity Fair. The breakdown was then
1 F
2 F+s
2 D-s
3 D's
7 D+s
6 C-s
12 C's
21 C+s
16 B-s
19 B's
9 B+s
2 A-s
There are the same number of F's and D-s, but there's another F+, another D, and another D+. C-s have increased to 8, C's to 15, and C+s to 37. B-s have tripled, with 53 now! B's have more than doubled, with 43 total. B+s have almost tripled, to 21. And there are three more A-s. So it's been a good seven decades.
I've also posted more this month than any of the five since I started, thanks to lots of children's books and short stories. I'm going to be busier for awhile, so I'll probably slow down this spring, especially as I hit Sinclair Lewis and other novelists of the 1920s and '30s.
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Lost Princess of Oz
Bought new for $3.95
Paperback with stains and loose pages
B-
This is the second time Ozma is the title character, since she's again been kidnapped, this time by Ugu the Shoemaker. The book has a number of plotholes and inconsistencies, most importantly that Ugu has learned some facts about Oz from the "books of his ancestors." This magic includes that Ozma is the fairy ruler of Oz, that Glinda is the most powerful sorceress and owns the Great Book of Records, that the Wizard is Glinda's student, and that there's a magic dishpan in the Yip Country. Only the last of these facts could've been recorded in a book owned even by Ugu's father, who abandoned the now middle-aged Ugu as a boy. Ozma has clearly not been on the throne for decades. (As for her being a fairy, that's a relatively recent development of Baum's, and somewhat inconsistent with her being changed into a boy who aged.) Glinda has been around for decades, but I don't think she owned the Record Book before Ozma came to the throne, because in Land she spoke of her spies gathering knowledge about the Wizard, rather than of a book that automatically recorded significant events around the world. And obviously, the Wizard hasn't been in training that long, only since the time of the fifth book at most, since he returned to Oz in the fourth and told of his apprenticeship in the sixth.
The two maps, one of Oz and the other showing the paths of the two main search parties, again put the Winkie Country in the West and right. The second map is spoilery, being on p. 75 and showing Ugu's castle as the final destination. But then this isn't really a mystery we're meant to solve. It's a rather meandering quest, better than the search for Shaggy's brother, but less gripping than Ojo's hunt for magic ingredients.
Part of the problem is that there are too many characters. Dorothy's group includes the other two little girls (Trot and Betsy), Button-Bright, the Wizard, the Patchwork Girl, the Cowardly Lion, the Woozy, the Sawhorse, Hank, and Toto, eleven total. The other search parties (most of whom we don't follow) consist of two to four people. I would've cut Dorothy's group down to her (since she wears the Magic Belt), Button-Bright (since he finds the peach that Ozma's hidden in), the Patchwork Girl (since she's clever and fun), the Cowardly Lion, the Woozy, and maybe Toto, five or six total. Toto, by the way, talks more in this book, but since he's mostly whining about losing his growl, I'm inclined to agree with the other animals that he shouldn't talk so much. The Cowardly Lion is as insightful as ever.
Baum still hasn't found a way to distinguish Trot and particularly Betsy as unique from Dorothy. In the illustrations, Betsy has longer hair, as she did in Rinkitink. Baum tells us that Betsy is a year older than Dorothy, who's a year older than Trot. He hasn't yet explained that people have stopped aging in Oz, but it's starting to be implied. Button-Bright is younger than Ojo, and we know he's younger than Trot and Dorothy. In Road, he seemed to be about half Dorothy's age, say 4 or 5 to her 8 or 9. He was half a head shorter than Trot in Scarecrow. If I remember correctly, Thompson will make Trot 9, I think in Giant Horse, so when we get to that point, I'll try to approximate the other kids' ages.
The other party we follow is the pair from Yip, Cayke the Cookie Cook (owner of the Dishpan) and the Frogman. The latter is like the Wogglebug in that he thinks his size and education make him very wise and impressive, but he takes a humbling bath in the Truth Pond, which since its appearance in Road has gained a plaque explaining its purpose. They're joined by two of the bears from Bear Center. Eight years after Teddy Roosevelt left office, teddy bears are still popular enough to inspire a whole city of them.
Ugu thinks he's stolen all the magic of Oz, but he doesn't know about the Nome King's Magic Belt or the magic of the Bear King. The Bear King can show you anything in the world, which leads to a great "infinity picture" of the united parties watching Ugu watch them watch him etc. As for the Belt, Dorothy isn't sure how to work it, despite having used it a bit in Ozma. She reveals that she's been practicing with it, a time when Baum should show not tell. She finds that the Belt will only grant one wish a day by closing her right eye and wiggling her "left toe" (which one?), restrictions that did not exist in Ozma or Emerald City, and then she manages to perform at least three wishes in quick succession.
This book could definitely have used some revision, but it's still better than Road, with an actual villain and plot, and more interesting places to visit. Of these, the City of Thi is probably best, with the diamond-shaped people who eat thistles, ride around in very slow auto-chariots pulled by dragons, and obey the man who's secretly their king. There's an odd picture on p. 165 of the giants of Herku, all of whom are bearded and fierce, except for one clean-shaven, vain-looking man. I suspect this was a caricature of someone Neill knew.
This is my 200th post (not counting the introduction), so let's see how things stack up since Vanity Fair. The breakdown was then
1 F
2 F+s
2 D-s
3 D's
7 D+s
6 C-s
12 C's
21 C+s
16 B-s
19 B's
9 B+s
2 A-s
There are the same number of F's and D-s, but there's another F+, another D, and another D+. C-s have increased to 8, C's to 15, and C+s to 37. B-s have tripled, with 53 now! B's have more than doubled, with 43 total. B+s have almost tripled, to 21. And there are three more A-s. So it's been a good seven decades.
I've also posted more this month than any of the five since I started, thanks to lots of children's books and short stories. I'm going to be busier for awhile, so I'll probably slow down this spring, especially as I hit Sinclair Lewis and other novelists of the 1920s and '30s.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Rinkitink in Oz
1916, undated probably 1970s Henry Regnery edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
Rinkitink in Oz
Bought new for $3.95
Somewhat worn paperback
B
I don't think this is the copy I had as a child, because that copy I read every summer floating on an inflatable raft in our pool. It seemed appropriate for a story set on islands, and I suspect it got waterlogged over the years. In any case, it was a big part of my childhood, connecting imagination and leisure. I liked Inga for his bravery, loyalty, and ingenuity, and envied him the three magic pearls. I liked Bilbil's sarcasm, but I don't think I cared very much for the title character, who wasn't as funny as the author thought.
The story is set mostly outside of Oz, but we get a map of Oz and some of the surrounding countries. West and Winkies are on the right. I've always been sort of dyslexic about left and right, in that I can't parse which is which immediately, and I'm terrible at giving street directions, so I wonder if I can blame Baum. In any case, Pingaree is the island on the upper right. Regos and Coregos (inspired by "regent" and "coregent"?) are off the map.
Some of the story takes place in the Nome Kingdom. Baum originally wrote the story as a non-Oz book a decade before, so Kaliko acts more like Roquat than his usual self. Interestingly, before agreeing to accept the King and Queen of Pingaree as his slaves, he makes sure that they aren't allies with Oz, because he doesn't want to annoy Ozma. Does this mean that Ev was allied with Oz during Ozma? If so, when was the treaty made? During the Wizard's time? Or is Ozma less interventionist these days, and so Kaliko is only worried if Ozma has a darned good reason to interfere? In any case, Dorothy and the Wizard, although on foot, arrive in the nick of time to save the day. It's too bad that Inga didn't get to rescue his parents himself. (And it's too bad he has a name that, thanks to Three's Company among other things, would soon sound like that of a bosomy blonde Swedish girl.)
The reference to "Hottentots" I mentioned in the Patchwork Girl review is that when Glinda and the Wizard are trying to change Bilbil back to Prince Bobo, one of the transitional phases is "tottenhot," here defined as "a lower form of man." Adding insult to injury, this is followed by a cross-eyed "mifket," which is "a great step in advance."
Back in Land, Glinda said she didn't deal in transformations, which are only for dishonest witches. Maybe she's now willing to do unclean magic in a good cause. The wizard figures out that Bilbil is enchanted because the goat can speak in the Nome Kingdom, never mind that Billina did as well.
Neill's artwork is his best in awhile, maybe helped by this being a more traditional fairytale. He's generally successful with the three main characters, and of course the palaces are gorgeous, even when in ruins. The most interesting image is that of the Regos soldier on p. 52. This invader from the north has a spiked helmet and an eagle-headed axe. Was this Neill's version of the "Hun" in WWI propaganda?
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
Rinkitink in Oz
Bought new for $3.95
Somewhat worn paperback
B
I don't think this is the copy I had as a child, because that copy I read every summer floating on an inflatable raft in our pool. It seemed appropriate for a story set on islands, and I suspect it got waterlogged over the years. In any case, it was a big part of my childhood, connecting imagination and leisure. I liked Inga for his bravery, loyalty, and ingenuity, and envied him the three magic pearls. I liked Bilbil's sarcasm, but I don't think I cared very much for the title character, who wasn't as funny as the author thought.
The story is set mostly outside of Oz, but we get a map of Oz and some of the surrounding countries. West and Winkies are on the right. I've always been sort of dyslexic about left and right, in that I can't parse which is which immediately, and I'm terrible at giving street directions, so I wonder if I can blame Baum. In any case, Pingaree is the island on the upper right. Regos and Coregos (inspired by "regent" and "coregent"?) are off the map.
Some of the story takes place in the Nome Kingdom. Baum originally wrote the story as a non-Oz book a decade before, so Kaliko acts more like Roquat than his usual self. Interestingly, before agreeing to accept the King and Queen of Pingaree as his slaves, he makes sure that they aren't allies with Oz, because he doesn't want to annoy Ozma. Does this mean that Ev was allied with Oz during Ozma? If so, when was the treaty made? During the Wizard's time? Or is Ozma less interventionist these days, and so Kaliko is only worried if Ozma has a darned good reason to interfere? In any case, Dorothy and the Wizard, although on foot, arrive in the nick of time to save the day. It's too bad that Inga didn't get to rescue his parents himself. (And it's too bad he has a name that, thanks to Three's Company among other things, would soon sound like that of a bosomy blonde Swedish girl.)
The reference to "Hottentots" I mentioned in the Patchwork Girl review is that when Glinda and the Wizard are trying to change Bilbil back to Prince Bobo, one of the transitional phases is "tottenhot," here defined as "a lower form of man." Adding insult to injury, this is followed by a cross-eyed "mifket," which is "a great step in advance."
Back in Land, Glinda said she didn't deal in transformations, which are only for dishonest witches. Maybe she's now willing to do unclean magic in a good cause. The wizard figures out that Bilbil is enchanted because the goat can speak in the Nome Kingdom, never mind that Billina did as well.
Neill's artwork is his best in awhile, maybe helped by this being a more traditional fairytale. He's generally successful with the three main characters, and of course the palaces are gorgeous, even when in ruins. The most interesting image is that of the Regos soldier on p. 52. This invader from the north has a spiked helmet and an eagle-headed axe. Was this Neill's version of the "Hun" in WWI propaganda?
Sunday, March 25, 2012
The Scarecrow of Oz
1915, undated probably 1970s Rand McNally edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Scarecrow of Oz
Bought new for $1.95
Waterlogged paperback
B-
Our old friend doesn't show up until the second half of this Oz book, although he sort of saves the day. It could more accurately be called Orks in Oz, after the bird-like creatures that come to the rescue several times, but I suppose that wouldn't have sold as well. Or it could've been Trot and Cap'n Bill in Oz, since those two find their way to the fairyland. There are some references to their two earlier adventures, but the main thing you need to know is he's like her unofficial uncle. (I think her father is dead, although her mother is mentioned, but forgotten later in the series.) I think their pre-Oz journey, with concerns about running out of candles and food, is more interesting than what happens in Jinxland, another of the mini-kingdoms on the edges of Oz. It is notable that there are still wicked witches, despite Ozma's decree.
Our favorite good witch is now back home in the Quadling Country, looking out for people with her Great Book of Records of course, but I still can't tell if she's ruling the South. She sends the Scarecrow to Jinxland, with a spider-bridge reminiscent of one of the Mo adventures.
Speaking of Mo, Trot and Cap'n Bill spend a night in that land, Baum having forgotten that there is no night in Mo. They meet the Bumpy Man and eat their way through a popcorn snowstorm, finding an old friend in a snowbank.
Button-Bright is back, having met Trot and Cap'n Bill in Sky Island. He's older now and more articulate than in DatW, although he's also further developed his habit of getting lost. The three of them permanently move to Oz, with no immigration debate, or concern for the families back home. Uncle Henry and Aunt Em, by the way, now live in a cottage near the palace, allowing Dorothy to continue her aristocratic lifestyle. Yet, she's still down to earth. Betsy has undergone a personality change and is now shy, rather than Oklahomically frank.
Neill's best drawings this time are of the title character, in many moods, and Princess Gloria of Jinxland. Ozma and Glinda are supposed to be more beautiful, but I like the way Neill does Gloria's hair.
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Scarecrow of Oz
Bought new for $1.95
Waterlogged paperback
B-
Our old friend doesn't show up until the second half of this Oz book, although he sort of saves the day. It could more accurately be called Orks in Oz, after the bird-like creatures that come to the rescue several times, but I suppose that wouldn't have sold as well. Or it could've been Trot and Cap'n Bill in Oz, since those two find their way to the fairyland. There are some references to their two earlier adventures, but the main thing you need to know is he's like her unofficial uncle. (I think her father is dead, although her mother is mentioned, but forgotten later in the series.) I think their pre-Oz journey, with concerns about running out of candles and food, is more interesting than what happens in Jinxland, another of the mini-kingdoms on the edges of Oz. It is notable that there are still wicked witches, despite Ozma's decree.
Our favorite good witch is now back home in the Quadling Country, looking out for people with her Great Book of Records of course, but I still can't tell if she's ruling the South. She sends the Scarecrow to Jinxland, with a spider-bridge reminiscent of one of the Mo adventures.
Speaking of Mo, Trot and Cap'n Bill spend a night in that land, Baum having forgotten that there is no night in Mo. They meet the Bumpy Man and eat their way through a popcorn snowstorm, finding an old friend in a snowbank.
Button-Bright is back, having met Trot and Cap'n Bill in Sky Island. He's older now and more articulate than in DatW, although he's also further developed his habit of getting lost. The three of them permanently move to Oz, with no immigration debate, or concern for the families back home. Uncle Henry and Aunt Em, by the way, now live in a cottage near the palace, allowing Dorothy to continue her aristocratic lifestyle. Yet, she's still down to earth. Betsy has undergone a personality change and is now shy, rather than Oklahomically frank.
Neill's best drawings this time are of the title character, in many moods, and Princess Gloria of Jinxland. Ozma and Glinda are supposed to be more beautiful, but I like the way Neill does Gloria's hair.
Tik-Tok of Oz
1914, undated probably 1970s Reilly & Lee edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
Tik-Tok of Oz
Bought new for $7.95
Mostly good condition hardcover but with slightly worn corners and a few stains
C+
This is based on the musical The Tik-Tok Man of Oz, which was based on Ozma of Oz and elements of DatW and Road. So if you feel de ja vu, it's understandable. For instance, Betsy plucks Rose Princess Ozga, like Dorothy picking a princess in the Vegetable Kingdom. It gets a bit strange when the Shaggy Man and Polychrome don't remember meeting three books ago, especially when he offers himself as a beau to replace her lost bow. In Road, Polly looked like she was Dorothy's age, although she seems to be a young lady here.
Perhaps due to the roots in a stage musical, there's also a romance between Ozga (Ozma's distant relative, I'm not sure how that works with plants and fairies) and Private Files, after he resigns from the army. Queen Ann Soforth (one of the best punny names, and her sister Salye is decades before the comic Sally Forth), the ruler of the very small kingdom of Oogaboo, has decided to conquer the world. Glinda, who's still living in the north, diverts her army, and so they meet up with Shaggy and friends near the Nome Kingdom. Files is the only private in the army, similar to Ozma's army in the third book. When he quits, she drafts Tik-Tok. Again, Baum makes fun of the military, particularly the officers, here on the edge of WWI. There's a moment when the Long-Eared Hearer tells the Nome King that there's a war somewhere in the world, and Ruggedo replies, "Bah! there's [sic] always a war!"
Roquat has changed his name but not his personality. Thanks to the Water of Oblivion, he's forgotten what he was once called but somehow relearned all his wickedness. He supposedly reforms by the end of the story, but I think his humility is feigned. Kaliko is the new king, and seems like he'll be a vast improvement, although that will be debatable in Rinkitink.
Shaggy is looking for his long-lost brother, a prisoner of Ruggedo's for ten years, which means probably even at the time of the third book. The army of Oogaboo joins Shaggy's mission to save his brother, though Shaggy hopes to win over the Nomes using his Love Magnet. Even as a child, I thought there was something a bit, ahem, queer about the effect this Magnet has on the Royal Gardener, who dresses in pink and ribbons, and "dotes" on Shaggy, calling him a "lovely, lovely man."
(I've skimmed a bit of this early draft of The Tik-Tok Man of Oz, from when it was called Ozma of Oz, http://static.nypl.org/MOTM/Ozma/Ozma.txt , and "Gardy" not only tries to embrace Shaggy, but he offers him all the money from his pockets.)
What actually conquers Ruggedo is the adolescent dragon Quox, a 3056-year-old who's being sent by Tititi-Hoochoo as punishment for disrespect to his ancestor, the still living first dragon. Ruggedo has the would-be invaders pushed through the redundantly named Hollow Tube, where they meet a land of powerful fairies ruled by a private citizen. The travelers ride on Quox's back but dismiss his help in the conquest until it's almost too late.
Overall, the book is uneven, meandering despite the quest. I do like some details, like the fog-breathing Rak who politely accepts the Oogaboo Army's previous engagement to conquer the world and doesn't kill them. Shaggy gets away with breaking the fourth wall when he tells Betsy Bobbin, the Dorothy wannabe, that no one knows what's going to happen next, except the person writing the story.
Betsy was always my least favorite of the four recurring little girl characters. (Trot is coming up.) There's nothing wrong with her, but she just seemed redundant. She of course moves to Oz, after a debate between Ozma, the Wizard, Tik-Tok, and Dorothy about immigration, and immediately becomes besties with Ozma and Dorothy.
Her mule, Hank, also emigrates, and suddenly finds he has the power of speech. There's no explanation of why he didn't talk in the Nome Kingdom, as Billina did. Perhaps he didn't know he could. We do finally find out why Toto doesn't talk, when the Pink Kitten does. He just doesn't want to, preferring to communicate nonverbally. He finally says, "All right. Here I go!" As I recall, he talks quite a bit more in the eleventh book.
I'm using the "utopias" tag again, even though not much time is spent in Oz, since we learn that Oz "is a Land of Love, and here friendship outranks every quality." That's debatable, but that's Ozma, whom in the previous book was said to enforce whether people lived in the city or the country. She's a loving little control freak, our glorious leader is.
The final chapter is called "The Land of Love," and every previous chapter is alliterative, the best of these being "Ruggedo's Rage is Rash and Reckless."
Neill's artwork isn't particularly notable, except for the illustration that spans front cover, spine, and back cover, with a wagon hitched to a frightened-looking Hank. The passengers are Shaggy, Tik-Tok, and the four main female characters: Polychrome, Betsy, Ozga, and Ann. Three of these gals (all but Ann) kiss Shaggy's brother, to break the spell of ugliness Ruggedo has cast. To my surprise, this was not in the musical, or at least not in that early draft.
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
Tik-Tok of Oz
Bought new for $7.95
Mostly good condition hardcover but with slightly worn corners and a few stains
C+
This is based on the musical The Tik-Tok Man of Oz, which was based on Ozma of Oz and elements of DatW and Road. So if you feel de ja vu, it's understandable. For instance, Betsy plucks Rose Princess Ozga, like Dorothy picking a princess in the Vegetable Kingdom. It gets a bit strange when the Shaggy Man and Polychrome don't remember meeting three books ago, especially when he offers himself as a beau to replace her lost bow. In Road, Polly looked like she was Dorothy's age, although she seems to be a young lady here.
Perhaps due to the roots in a stage musical, there's also a romance between Ozga (Ozma's distant relative, I'm not sure how that works with plants and fairies) and Private Files, after he resigns from the army. Queen Ann Soforth (one of the best punny names, and her sister Salye is decades before the comic Sally Forth), the ruler of the very small kingdom of Oogaboo, has decided to conquer the world. Glinda, who's still living in the north, diverts her army, and so they meet up with Shaggy and friends near the Nome Kingdom. Files is the only private in the army, similar to Ozma's army in the third book. When he quits, she drafts Tik-Tok. Again, Baum makes fun of the military, particularly the officers, here on the edge of WWI. There's a moment when the Long-Eared Hearer tells the Nome King that there's a war somewhere in the world, and Ruggedo replies, "Bah! there's [sic] always a war!"
Roquat has changed his name but not his personality. Thanks to the Water of Oblivion, he's forgotten what he was once called but somehow relearned all his wickedness. He supposedly reforms by the end of the story, but I think his humility is feigned. Kaliko is the new king, and seems like he'll be a vast improvement, although that will be debatable in Rinkitink.
Shaggy is looking for his long-lost brother, a prisoner of Ruggedo's for ten years, which means probably even at the time of the third book. The army of Oogaboo joins Shaggy's mission to save his brother, though Shaggy hopes to win over the Nomes using his Love Magnet. Even as a child, I thought there was something a bit, ahem, queer about the effect this Magnet has on the Royal Gardener, who dresses in pink and ribbons, and "dotes" on Shaggy, calling him a "lovely, lovely man."
(I've skimmed a bit of this early draft of The Tik-Tok Man of Oz, from when it was called Ozma of Oz, http://static.nypl.org/MOTM/Ozma/Ozma.txt , and "Gardy" not only tries to embrace Shaggy, but he offers him all the money from his pockets.)
What actually conquers Ruggedo is the adolescent dragon Quox, a 3056-year-old who's being sent by Tititi-Hoochoo as punishment for disrespect to his ancestor, the still living first dragon. Ruggedo has the would-be invaders pushed through the redundantly named Hollow Tube, where they meet a land of powerful fairies ruled by a private citizen. The travelers ride on Quox's back but dismiss his help in the conquest until it's almost too late.
Overall, the book is uneven, meandering despite the quest. I do like some details, like the fog-breathing Rak who politely accepts the Oogaboo Army's previous engagement to conquer the world and doesn't kill them. Shaggy gets away with breaking the fourth wall when he tells Betsy Bobbin, the Dorothy wannabe, that no one knows what's going to happen next, except the person writing the story.
Betsy was always my least favorite of the four recurring little girl characters. (Trot is coming up.) There's nothing wrong with her, but she just seemed redundant. She of course moves to Oz, after a debate between Ozma, the Wizard, Tik-Tok, and Dorothy about immigration, and immediately becomes besties with Ozma and Dorothy.
Her mule, Hank, also emigrates, and suddenly finds he has the power of speech. There's no explanation of why he didn't talk in the Nome Kingdom, as Billina did. Perhaps he didn't know he could. We do finally find out why Toto doesn't talk, when the Pink Kitten does. He just doesn't want to, preferring to communicate nonverbally. He finally says, "All right. Here I go!" As I recall, he talks quite a bit more in the eleventh book.
I'm using the "utopias" tag again, even though not much time is spent in Oz, since we learn that Oz "is a Land of Love, and here friendship outranks every quality." That's debatable, but that's Ozma, whom in the previous book was said to enforce whether people lived in the city or the country. She's a loving little control freak, our glorious leader is.
The final chapter is called "The Land of Love," and every previous chapter is alliterative, the best of these being "Ruggedo's Rage is Rash and Reckless."
Neill's artwork isn't particularly notable, except for the illustration that spans front cover, spine, and back cover, with a wagon hitched to a frightened-looking Hank. The passengers are Shaggy, Tik-Tok, and the four main female characters: Polychrome, Betsy, Ozga, and Ann. Three of these gals (all but Ann) kiss Shaggy's brother, to break the spell of ugliness Ruggedo has cast. To my surprise, this was not in the musical, or at least not in that early draft.
The Patchwork Girl of Oz
1913, undated probably 1970s Rand McNally edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Patchwork Girl of Oz
Bought new for $1.95
Paperback with stains and bent corners
B+
Baum's "post-Oz" books didn't sell too well, and meanwhile his fans begged for more Oz books. According to him, one of them suggested communicating with Oz by wireless telegraph. Glinda found out and the Shaggy Man knew about telegraphs, so here we are, with a new Oz book. And it's a good one.
The best thing about it is the new characters, starting with the title character. The Patchwork Girl, or Scraps, as she comes to be known, is the first and probably best of the female constructed personages (Baumian for "people"). Like the Scarecrow, Jack Pumpkinhead, and to some degree the Tin Woodman, she's put together out of bits and pieces and then animated. In fact, the Powder of Life is used on her, just like Jack. (More about that later.) When the Scarecrow meets her, he sees how much they have in common, and they become mutually infatuated. In fact, if there's any truly canonical ship in the mostly prepubescent, pre-romance Oz, it's Scarecrow/Scraps. Gilbert M. Sprague marries them off in The Patchwork Bride of Oz (1997), which I haven't read.
But it isn't just as a love interest for one of the favorite established characters that she's appealing. Ojo secretly gives her extra doses of brains, and she uses them, from "Cleverness" to "Poesy" to "Bravery." She's also very kind to Ojo because he's her friend, although she doesn't have a heart to make her sympathize with people she doesn't know. The main quality she doesn't have is dignity, which she doesn't care for. Baum's successor Ruth Plumly Thompson features Scraps more than some of his other characters, but I don't think she really gets Scraps, making her just goofy rather than also clever.
Ojo is the actual main character, with Scraps as his main sidekick. He's somewhat reminiscent of Tip, but without the gender swap at the end of the story. Like Tip, he has black hair and a mysterious background, and he lives all alone with a guardian. Unc Nunkie is much kinder than Mombi, but because he speaks only one syllable at a time, Ojo hasn't grown up with much conversation. As for the mysterious background, Unc Nunkie would be King of the Munchkins if "his people [hadn't] united with all the other countries of Oz in acknowledging Ozma as their sole ruler." Was he the Munchkin king mentioned in the third and/or fourth Oz books? What about the Tin Woodman still ruling all the Winkies? What about all the little kingdoms that Baum and his successors will scatter through Oz, including in the very next book? Thompson will try to sort out some of this in her books, including Ojo in Oz (1933), but there's probably no answer that can cover everything.
Ojo is called "the Unlucky," and he's more serious than Tip was, but, as I said, he does interfere with the creation of a creature who will be brought to life with the Powder. And here again, we find Baum contradicting himself. In Land, the Crooked Magician was called Dr. Nikidik, but here he's named Dr. Pipt. Perhaps he's Nikidik Pipt, or Pipt Nikidik. More importantly, in DatW, we were told that the Crooked Magician had died (this was before death became rare in Oz), and left the last of the Powder of Life to a distant relative, who used it on a bearskin rug. Yet, here he is, stirring away at four kettles, making the Powder of Life.
The Powder takes six years to make. That means it's been at least six years since the second book, which is plausible. The earliest batch of the Powder was tried on the Glass Cat, another of the nifty new characters. She's not exactly likable, with her conceit about her beauty and her brains ("you can see 'em work"), but she is fun. If Scraps is the Jack Pumpkinhead to Tip's Ojo, then Bungle the useless cat is what he gets instead of the very useful Sawhorse. Ojo is indeed unlucky.
The Powder brings to life one more creature, a phonograph named Victor Columbia Edison (a not very dated joke almost a century later). In the 1909 Oz book, Dorothy said there couldn't be a phonograph in Oz. (Only she pronounced "phonograph" in some cutesy Kansas way.) But Dr. Pipt, who's been living a very isolated life for at least six years, owns a phonograph. Maybe his wife, Margolotte, bought it, but it shows that Oz isn't entirely separate from the real world, or at least wasn't before Glinda cut it off at the end of Emerald City. Vic, as Scraps nicknames him, is a minor character, just turning up so Baum can make fun of current musical genres. When he meets the Shaggy Man, he plays a song about "coal-black Lulu," blues I guess. This is borderline racist, although Baum's definition of a popular song remains pertinent and funny: "One that the feeble-minded can remember the words of and those ignorant of music can whistle and sing." (I like a lot of pop songs by the way, even the Spice Girls.)
The phonograph gets the last of the Powder through an accident, the same accident that causes the Liquid of Petrifaction to fall on Unc Nunkie and Margolotte. This Liquid is similar to what Mombi threatened to make Tip into a statue with, only she was brewing hers fresh. Since there's no more Powder of Life, Dr. Pipt will have to spend six years stirring another batch, unless Ojo can gather together the ingredients for the antidote to the Liquid. So this is a "quest" Oz book, rather than a "meandering" Oz book, which is a good thing. In the "meandering" Oz books, there's no urgency. The characters take us on a tour of Oz. In the "quest" books, we still get to see weird people and creatures, but we're not just tourists.
Ojo's love for his uncle, and concern for Margolotte, carries him forward through frustration and sometimes danger. He even breaks the law to gather a six-leaf clover. We get another look at the legal system in Oz, which has changed since Eureka's arrest in DatW. Nowadays, especially in the Emerald City, law-breaking is rare, but prisoners are treated as guests, except for how they have to wear a ghost-like (or Klan-like) white sheet in public. This is meant to save them embarrassment, but it of course draws attention.
Ozma is cracking down on magic-makers. Starting in Emerald City, Glinda is the only one allowed to perform magic, except for the Wizard, whom she's training. Ozma herself will gradually stop performing magic, which makes you wonder why she doesn't just give the Magic Belt back to the Nome King. She does allow Ojo to continue his quest, but when it dead-ends because of the Tin Woodman's kind-hearted but stern refusal to allow Ojo to take the wing of a yellow butterfly, she has the Wizard bring Nunkie and Margolotte back to life. The Crooked Magician becomes no longer Crooked and no longer a Magician.
Another of the ingredients is three hairs from a Woozy's tail. The Woozy is just adorable, made all of squares and cubes, with a far from terrifying roar and an impressive ability to shoot fire when he hears the words "Krizzle-Kroo!" I always wished there was more of the Woozy in later books, but Baum does less with him than with the Glass Cat, who's very memorable in the penultimate Baum book.
Speaking of cats, Eureka is referred to but not seen. No one explains how she got back to Oz, or why she's now pink, when she was only temporarily pink because of the underground suns in DatW. Billina, by the way, has hatched out another baker's dozen of chicks since the Shaggy Man left the Emerald City, making about 7000 total. It's not clear if this includes her grandchildren, great-grandchildren, etc.
Another of the returning animals is the Wise Donkey, who was visiting from Mo (no explanation of how he crossed the Deadly Desert) at the time that Glinda cut Oz off from the rest of the world.
There's Mo-ish wordplay in the description of giant Mr. Yoop, e.g. "P.S. Don't feed the Giant yourself." We'll meet Mrs. Yoop in Tin Woodman.
Less dangerous than the hungry giant, but more troublesome to a (mostly) grown-up (mostly) politically correct reader like yours truly, are the Tottenhots. An obvious reversal of "Hottentots," they're dusky little savages. They're more pleasant than some of the people that Ojo encounters, including the lazy (white) Quadling, but they are racistly depicted, in text and art, although there's a much more offensive reference to Hottentots in a later Baum book. (I have mixed feelings about the Books of Wonder edition of Patchwork Girl, which tries to omit the racism, but I don't own it, so I'm not reviewing it here.)
This is also another Oz book with a man flirting with a little girl (like Dorothy's masher in the last book). The Chief of the Horners has nineteen daughters, from a tiny child to an almost grown woman. Diksey Horner winks at all of them. They "demurely cast down their eyes because their father is looking." The chief is bringing them up "according to rules and regulations laid down by a leading bachelor." Scraps thinks the bachelor should be skinned alive because the girls aren't allowed to romp and be jolly, like she does.
The Horners are at war with the Hoppers, due to a misunderstood pun about understanding. Scraps and Dorothy make peace.
Dorothy and the Scarecrow have joined Ojo's quest for the second half, Bungle and the Woozy waiting for them in the Emerald City. With Scraps, they make an awesome four-person team, particularly in Neill's illustrations.
Neill's art is about as good as usual, but contains errors of the wrong characters at the wrong points of the story, e.g. the Shaggy Man by the Trick River. Neill captures the Patchwork Girl's whimsical charm, and there's a delightful two-page illustration of the Scarecrow on one knee before her. Some of the "meat people" look nothing like they did almost a decade before in Land, such as the Guardian of the Gates and Jinjur. One of my favorite renditions of Dorothy ever is the full-page portrait on p. 211. He's hit or miss with Ojo, but the final picture, of Ojo reuniting with his uncle, the words "THE END" under the OZ logo, is just right.
Altogether, it's the best Oz book since Land, and definitely one of the most interesting Oz books of all. By no means perfect, but a very welcome return.
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Patchwork Girl of Oz
Bought new for $1.95
Paperback with stains and bent corners
B+
Baum's "post-Oz" books didn't sell too well, and meanwhile his fans begged for more Oz books. According to him, one of them suggested communicating with Oz by wireless telegraph. Glinda found out and the Shaggy Man knew about telegraphs, so here we are, with a new Oz book. And it's a good one.
The best thing about it is the new characters, starting with the title character. The Patchwork Girl, or Scraps, as she comes to be known, is the first and probably best of the female constructed personages (Baumian for "people"). Like the Scarecrow, Jack Pumpkinhead, and to some degree the Tin Woodman, she's put together out of bits and pieces and then animated. In fact, the Powder of Life is used on her, just like Jack. (More about that later.) When the Scarecrow meets her, he sees how much they have in common, and they become mutually infatuated. In fact, if there's any truly canonical ship in the mostly prepubescent, pre-romance Oz, it's Scarecrow/Scraps. Gilbert M. Sprague marries them off in The Patchwork Bride of Oz (1997), which I haven't read.
But it isn't just as a love interest for one of the favorite established characters that she's appealing. Ojo secretly gives her extra doses of brains, and she uses them, from "Cleverness" to "Poesy" to "Bravery." She's also very kind to Ojo because he's her friend, although she doesn't have a heart to make her sympathize with people she doesn't know. The main quality she doesn't have is dignity, which she doesn't care for. Baum's successor Ruth Plumly Thompson features Scraps more than some of his other characters, but I don't think she really gets Scraps, making her just goofy rather than also clever.
Ojo is the actual main character, with Scraps as his main sidekick. He's somewhat reminiscent of Tip, but without the gender swap at the end of the story. Like Tip, he has black hair and a mysterious background, and he lives all alone with a guardian. Unc Nunkie is much kinder than Mombi, but because he speaks only one syllable at a time, Ojo hasn't grown up with much conversation. As for the mysterious background, Unc Nunkie would be King of the Munchkins if "his people [hadn't] united with all the other countries of Oz in acknowledging Ozma as their sole ruler." Was he the Munchkin king mentioned in the third and/or fourth Oz books? What about the Tin Woodman still ruling all the Winkies? What about all the little kingdoms that Baum and his successors will scatter through Oz, including in the very next book? Thompson will try to sort out some of this in her books, including Ojo in Oz (1933), but there's probably no answer that can cover everything.
Ojo is called "the Unlucky," and he's more serious than Tip was, but, as I said, he does interfere with the creation of a creature who will be brought to life with the Powder. And here again, we find Baum contradicting himself. In Land, the Crooked Magician was called Dr. Nikidik, but here he's named Dr. Pipt. Perhaps he's Nikidik Pipt, or Pipt Nikidik. More importantly, in DatW, we were told that the Crooked Magician had died (this was before death became rare in Oz), and left the last of the Powder of Life to a distant relative, who used it on a bearskin rug. Yet, here he is, stirring away at four kettles, making the Powder of Life.
The Powder takes six years to make. That means it's been at least six years since the second book, which is plausible. The earliest batch of the Powder was tried on the Glass Cat, another of the nifty new characters. She's not exactly likable, with her conceit about her beauty and her brains ("you can see 'em work"), but she is fun. If Scraps is the Jack Pumpkinhead to Tip's Ojo, then Bungle the useless cat is what he gets instead of the very useful Sawhorse. Ojo is indeed unlucky.
The Powder brings to life one more creature, a phonograph named Victor Columbia Edison (a not very dated joke almost a century later). In the 1909 Oz book, Dorothy said there couldn't be a phonograph in Oz. (Only she pronounced "phonograph" in some cutesy Kansas way.) But Dr. Pipt, who's been living a very isolated life for at least six years, owns a phonograph. Maybe his wife, Margolotte, bought it, but it shows that Oz isn't entirely separate from the real world, or at least wasn't before Glinda cut it off at the end of Emerald City. Vic, as Scraps nicknames him, is a minor character, just turning up so Baum can make fun of current musical genres. When he meets the Shaggy Man, he plays a song about "coal-black Lulu," blues I guess. This is borderline racist, although Baum's definition of a popular song remains pertinent and funny: "One that the feeble-minded can remember the words of and those ignorant of music can whistle and sing." (I like a lot of pop songs by the way, even the Spice Girls.)
The phonograph gets the last of the Powder through an accident, the same accident that causes the Liquid of Petrifaction to fall on Unc Nunkie and Margolotte. This Liquid is similar to what Mombi threatened to make Tip into a statue with, only she was brewing hers fresh. Since there's no more Powder of Life, Dr. Pipt will have to spend six years stirring another batch, unless Ojo can gather together the ingredients for the antidote to the Liquid. So this is a "quest" Oz book, rather than a "meandering" Oz book, which is a good thing. In the "meandering" Oz books, there's no urgency. The characters take us on a tour of Oz. In the "quest" books, we still get to see weird people and creatures, but we're not just tourists.
Ojo's love for his uncle, and concern for Margolotte, carries him forward through frustration and sometimes danger. He even breaks the law to gather a six-leaf clover. We get another look at the legal system in Oz, which has changed since Eureka's arrest in DatW. Nowadays, especially in the Emerald City, law-breaking is rare, but prisoners are treated as guests, except for how they have to wear a ghost-like (or Klan-like) white sheet in public. This is meant to save them embarrassment, but it of course draws attention.
Ozma is cracking down on magic-makers. Starting in Emerald City, Glinda is the only one allowed to perform magic, except for the Wizard, whom she's training. Ozma herself will gradually stop performing magic, which makes you wonder why she doesn't just give the Magic Belt back to the Nome King. She does allow Ojo to continue his quest, but when it dead-ends because of the Tin Woodman's kind-hearted but stern refusal to allow Ojo to take the wing of a yellow butterfly, she has the Wizard bring Nunkie and Margolotte back to life. The Crooked Magician becomes no longer Crooked and no longer a Magician.
Another of the ingredients is three hairs from a Woozy's tail. The Woozy is just adorable, made all of squares and cubes, with a far from terrifying roar and an impressive ability to shoot fire when he hears the words "Krizzle-Kroo!" I always wished there was more of the Woozy in later books, but Baum does less with him than with the Glass Cat, who's very memorable in the penultimate Baum book.
Speaking of cats, Eureka is referred to but not seen. No one explains how she got back to Oz, or why she's now pink, when she was only temporarily pink because of the underground suns in DatW. Billina, by the way, has hatched out another baker's dozen of chicks since the Shaggy Man left the Emerald City, making about 7000 total. It's not clear if this includes her grandchildren, great-grandchildren, etc.
Another of the returning animals is the Wise Donkey, who was visiting from Mo (no explanation of how he crossed the Deadly Desert) at the time that Glinda cut Oz off from the rest of the world.
There's Mo-ish wordplay in the description of giant Mr. Yoop, e.g. "P.S. Don't feed the Giant yourself." We'll meet Mrs. Yoop in Tin Woodman.
Less dangerous than the hungry giant, but more troublesome to a (mostly) grown-up (mostly) politically correct reader like yours truly, are the Tottenhots. An obvious reversal of "Hottentots," they're dusky little savages. They're more pleasant than some of the people that Ojo encounters, including the lazy (white) Quadling, but they are racistly depicted, in text and art, although there's a much more offensive reference to Hottentots in a later Baum book. (I have mixed feelings about the Books of Wonder edition of Patchwork Girl, which tries to omit the racism, but I don't own it, so I'm not reviewing it here.)
This is also another Oz book with a man flirting with a little girl (like Dorothy's masher in the last book). The Chief of the Horners has nineteen daughters, from a tiny child to an almost grown woman. Diksey Horner winks at all of them. They "demurely cast down their eyes because their father is looking." The chief is bringing them up "according to rules and regulations laid down by a leading bachelor." Scraps thinks the bachelor should be skinned alive because the girls aren't allowed to romp and be jolly, like she does.
The Horners are at war with the Hoppers, due to a misunderstood pun about understanding. Scraps and Dorothy make peace.
Dorothy and the Scarecrow have joined Ojo's quest for the second half, Bungle and the Woozy waiting for them in the Emerald City. With Scraps, they make an awesome four-person team, particularly in Neill's illustrations.
Neill's art is about as good as usual, but contains errors of the wrong characters at the wrong points of the story, e.g. the Shaggy Man by the Trick River. Neill captures the Patchwork Girl's whimsical charm, and there's a delightful two-page illustration of the Scarecrow on one knee before her. Some of the "meat people" look nothing like they did almost a decade before in Land, such as the Guardian of the Gates and Jinjur. One of my favorite renditions of Dorothy ever is the full-page portrait on p. 211. He's hit or miss with Ojo, but the final picture, of Ojo reuniting with his uncle, the words "THE END" under the OZ logo, is just right.
Altogether, it's the best Oz book since Land, and definitely one of the most interesting Oz books of all. By no means perfect, but a very welcome return.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
The Emerald City of Oz
1910, undated Reilly & Lee edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Emerald City of Oz
Original and purchase price unknown
Hardcover with stains
B
Baum intended this to be the last Oz story. He wanted to write other books, and since he couldn't toss all the characters into Reichenbach Falls, or a well, he decided to have Glinda make the entire country invisible to outsiders. It didn't work, for him or Glinda, but that's why there are illustrations of the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman crying. And that's why the last chapter is called "How the Story of Oz Came to an End."
Not only isn't this the last Oz book, but it's the first Oz book to have creative chapter titles, in this case all starting with the word "how." It also has a dual storyline, one thread being about how Dorothy, her aunt, and her uncle move to Oz and travel around to odd little towns and villages, the other being about how the Nome King and his general plot to conquer Oz. Not all that much of the story is set in the Emerald City, although it is the first book since Land to be set mostly in Oz. It's also an improvement on the previous two Oz books. We see how charming Oz is and what a loss it would be if the Nomes and their allies laid it to waste.
Chapter Three begins with a description of the Emerald City, including population (57,318 people in 9654 buildings). Then we're told of the surrounding countryside, and that there are more than half a million people in the Land of Oz, "although some of them, as you will soon learn, were not made of flesh and blood as we are."
What follows is Baum's first explicitly utopian description of Oz. Death is rare and poverty unknown. "All property of every sort belonged to the Ruler," i.e. Ozma. "The people were her children, and she cared for them." Everyone shares what they make, whether grain or jewellery. People work half the time and play half the time. So basically, this is utopian socialism with a monarchist twist, which I found very appealing as a child and even into my 20s, although now much less so. Baum says, "I do not suppose such an arrangement would be practical with us," but I wonder if this is one reason the Oz books took so long to be accepted in public libraries. (The official reason was that librarians didn't want to collect series, an unfathomable thought these days.)
Baum claims that there are no evil Ozites, or even ones "who possess a selfish or violent nature." Then he admits that there are exceptions, in the remote parts of the land. "I suppose every country has some drawbacks, so even this almost perfect fairyland could not be quite perfect." It would be a pretty boring series if it were.
This is the book where Dorothy goes Bunburying, in a more innocent way than Algernon Moncrieff. She visits a town called Bunbury, entirely composed of baked goods. Here, and in Utensia, a town entirely composed of utensils and other kitchen aids, Baum lets loose with the puns in a way he probably hasn't since Mo. Most of them are still accessible, although I think it's been many decades since a masher meant "a man who makes unwelcome sexual advances, often in public places and typically to women he does not know." He winks at Dorothy "somewhat impertinently" and says, "I'm fond of little girls myself." Um, yeah.
She also travels to Bunnybury, where she teaches the king to appreciate what he's got, and to towns populated by paper dolls and jigsaw puzzles. There are also two places, Flutterbudget Center and Rigmarole Town, which are "the Defensive Settlements of Oz," since they house, respectively, people who worry too much and people who talk too much. Additionally, although not strictly speaking a town, they also visit the Athletic College, where the students acquire knowledge through pills, so they have more time to devote to sports. All of these places are more interesting than anywhere Dorothy went in the fourth or fifth books.
As for the other main plot, the very first chapter is "How the Nome King Became Angry." Roquat is upset because he's thinking about how Ozma, Dorothy, and the rest stole his "slaves" (the Evian royal family) and his Magic Belt. He wants revenge, but his sarcastic servant Kaliko (another of my favorite minor characters) reminds him that he can't cross the deadly desert surrounding Oz. His new general, Guph, suggests a tunnel, which makes sense since the Nomes are miners. Guph gets the Whimsies, Growleywogs, and Phanfasms to help, although everyone is planning to sell the others out, including Guph.
Despite going to the rescue of the Evian royals three books ago, Ozma now won't even defend her own country, because war is bad. Yes, even a war of defense. She's suddenly become an extreme pacifist. Of course, she and the other Oz natives probably won't die, but Dorothy and the other immigrants could. At the least, everyone is going to be enslaved and the country turned into a desert.
Luckily, the Scarecrow, "probably the wisest man in all Oz," comes up with a plan. He has Ozma use the Magic Belt to fill the tunnel with dust, so that when the warriors emerge, they'll have to slake their thirst in the Forbidden Fountain, whose Water of Oblivion will wipe clean their memories. This is a fountain that Dorothy has seen on every visit but never mentioned to us before. It will return, as will the Nome King, but more about that later.
Glinda, who has a Magic Record Book that records all events in the world, knows all that's going on, so she comes up with the invisibility plan. She doesn't do anything to prevent the invasion, but maybe she trusts the Scarecrow to save them. For some reason, her castle is now located in the north, but I think this is the beginning of the geographical confusion that plagues the series. Baum apparently misread a map slide from his traveling show, tried to fix things, and it all got very muddled. Usually it's east and west that are mixed up, not only with each other but with left and right, and with Munchkin and Winkie. This also affects the lands outside Oz, so that the Nome Country was closest to the Munchkins in Ozma but is now closest to the Winkies.
Speaking of travel, there's not much point to the Shaggy Man being on the expedition (or Omby Amby for that matter), but he does get the funny line, "I've been to Mexico and Boston and many other foreign countries." The Wizard chimes in that he's "been to Europe and Ireland."
Dorothy is also accompanied by Billina and Toto, who fought in the previous book but now have made peace. Billina supposedly is the first chicken in Oz, which doesn't explain how she's managed to have a dozen chicks, all named either Dorothy or Daniel. Her brood first appeared in Road, but they're already grown up at the beginning of this story, with 86 children and over 300 grandchildren. In fact, there are two Emerald City chickens in Wizard, and there's an illustration of a Gillikin rooster in Land. Since no one's allowed to eat or even kill chickens in Oz, their fate is a mystery.
The illustrations are good, with Neill representing nearly every type of the many creatures mentioned. (There's no view of the Fuddles, but I remember seeing them in a reproduction of a color plate from the first edition.) There are no particular standouts, although I like the stately columns of the college.
It would be three years before Baum returned to Oz, shorter than the interval between the first and second books, but it wasn't yet a series then. Meanwhile, he wrote a couple books about Trot and Cap'n Bill, which I've read but don't own. The Sea Fairies and Sky Island are still in print, although I'm not sure if they contain the Neill illustrations.
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Emerald City of Oz
Original and purchase price unknown
Hardcover with stains
B
Baum intended this to be the last Oz story. He wanted to write other books, and since he couldn't toss all the characters into Reichenbach Falls, or a well, he decided to have Glinda make the entire country invisible to outsiders. It didn't work, for him or Glinda, but that's why there are illustrations of the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman crying. And that's why the last chapter is called "How the Story of Oz Came to an End."
Not only isn't this the last Oz book, but it's the first Oz book to have creative chapter titles, in this case all starting with the word "how." It also has a dual storyline, one thread being about how Dorothy, her aunt, and her uncle move to Oz and travel around to odd little towns and villages, the other being about how the Nome King and his general plot to conquer Oz. Not all that much of the story is set in the Emerald City, although it is the first book since Land to be set mostly in Oz. It's also an improvement on the previous two Oz books. We see how charming Oz is and what a loss it would be if the Nomes and their allies laid it to waste.
Chapter Three begins with a description of the Emerald City, including population (57,318 people in 9654 buildings). Then we're told of the surrounding countryside, and that there are more than half a million people in the Land of Oz, "although some of them, as you will soon learn, were not made of flesh and blood as we are."
What follows is Baum's first explicitly utopian description of Oz. Death is rare and poverty unknown. "All property of every sort belonged to the Ruler," i.e. Ozma. "The people were her children, and she cared for them." Everyone shares what they make, whether grain or jewellery. People work half the time and play half the time. So basically, this is utopian socialism with a monarchist twist, which I found very appealing as a child and even into my 20s, although now much less so. Baum says, "I do not suppose such an arrangement would be practical with us," but I wonder if this is one reason the Oz books took so long to be accepted in public libraries. (The official reason was that librarians didn't want to collect series, an unfathomable thought these days.)
Baum claims that there are no evil Ozites, or even ones "who possess a selfish or violent nature." Then he admits that there are exceptions, in the remote parts of the land. "I suppose every country has some drawbacks, so even this almost perfect fairyland could not be quite perfect." It would be a pretty boring series if it were.
This is the book where Dorothy goes Bunburying, in a more innocent way than Algernon Moncrieff. She visits a town called Bunbury, entirely composed of baked goods. Here, and in Utensia, a town entirely composed of utensils and other kitchen aids, Baum lets loose with the puns in a way he probably hasn't since Mo. Most of them are still accessible, although I think it's been many decades since a masher meant "a man who makes unwelcome sexual advances, often in public places and typically to women he does not know." He winks at Dorothy "somewhat impertinently" and says, "I'm fond of little girls myself." Um, yeah.
She also travels to Bunnybury, where she teaches the king to appreciate what he's got, and to towns populated by paper dolls and jigsaw puzzles. There are also two places, Flutterbudget Center and Rigmarole Town, which are "the Defensive Settlements of Oz," since they house, respectively, people who worry too much and people who talk too much. Additionally, although not strictly speaking a town, they also visit the Athletic College, where the students acquire knowledge through pills, so they have more time to devote to sports. All of these places are more interesting than anywhere Dorothy went in the fourth or fifth books.
As for the other main plot, the very first chapter is "How the Nome King Became Angry." Roquat is upset because he's thinking about how Ozma, Dorothy, and the rest stole his "slaves" (the Evian royal family) and his Magic Belt. He wants revenge, but his sarcastic servant Kaliko (another of my favorite minor characters) reminds him that he can't cross the deadly desert surrounding Oz. His new general, Guph, suggests a tunnel, which makes sense since the Nomes are miners. Guph gets the Whimsies, Growleywogs, and Phanfasms to help, although everyone is planning to sell the others out, including Guph.
Despite going to the rescue of the Evian royals three books ago, Ozma now won't even defend her own country, because war is bad. Yes, even a war of defense. She's suddenly become an extreme pacifist. Of course, she and the other Oz natives probably won't die, but Dorothy and the other immigrants could. At the least, everyone is going to be enslaved and the country turned into a desert.
Luckily, the Scarecrow, "probably the wisest man in all Oz," comes up with a plan. He has Ozma use the Magic Belt to fill the tunnel with dust, so that when the warriors emerge, they'll have to slake their thirst in the Forbidden Fountain, whose Water of Oblivion will wipe clean their memories. This is a fountain that Dorothy has seen on every visit but never mentioned to us before. It will return, as will the Nome King, but more about that later.
Glinda, who has a Magic Record Book that records all events in the world, knows all that's going on, so she comes up with the invisibility plan. She doesn't do anything to prevent the invasion, but maybe she trusts the Scarecrow to save them. For some reason, her castle is now located in the north, but I think this is the beginning of the geographical confusion that plagues the series. Baum apparently misread a map slide from his traveling show, tried to fix things, and it all got very muddled. Usually it's east and west that are mixed up, not only with each other but with left and right, and with Munchkin and Winkie. This also affects the lands outside Oz, so that the Nome Country was closest to the Munchkins in Ozma but is now closest to the Winkies.
Speaking of travel, there's not much point to the Shaggy Man being on the expedition (or Omby Amby for that matter), but he does get the funny line, "I've been to Mexico and Boston and many other foreign countries." The Wizard chimes in that he's "been to Europe and Ireland."
Dorothy is also accompanied by Billina and Toto, who fought in the previous book but now have made peace. Billina supposedly is the first chicken in Oz, which doesn't explain how she's managed to have a dozen chicks, all named either Dorothy or Daniel. Her brood first appeared in Road, but they're already grown up at the beginning of this story, with 86 children and over 300 grandchildren. In fact, there are two Emerald City chickens in Wizard, and there's an illustration of a Gillikin rooster in Land. Since no one's allowed to eat or even kill chickens in Oz, their fate is a mystery.
The illustrations are good, with Neill representing nearly every type of the many creatures mentioned. (There's no view of the Fuddles, but I remember seeing them in a reproduction of a color plate from the first edition.) There are no particular standouts, although I like the stately columns of the college.
It would be three years before Baum returned to Oz, shorter than the interval between the first and second books, but it wasn't yet a series then. Meanwhile, he wrote a couple books about Trot and Cap'n Bill, which I've read but don't own. The Sea Fairies and Sky Island are still in print, although I'm not sure if they contain the Neill illustrations.
Friday, March 16, 2012
The Road to Oz
1909, two copies, one a paperback Rand McNally, the other a hardcover Reilly & Lee, both undated but purchased in the mid-1970s
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Road to Oz
Paperback $1.95, hardcover $3.00
Paperback stained with bent covers, hardcover pretty good condition
C+
This is possibly Baum's weakest Oz book. The journey on the road to Oz is mostly forgettable. Foxville and Dunkiton are among the more boring "animal" lands. The Scoodlers are the highlight, sort of like The Hammerheads in Wizard, but their heads are detachable. Neill has fun decorating them with things like clubs and spades, pawnbrokers' balls and symbols of currency.
All three of Dorothy's traveling companions come off better in other books. The Shaggy Man is wittier later, and he won't set off Stranger Danger vibes. (As a child, it bothered me less that Dorothy goes wandering off with a stranger, since she makes a habit of that, than that he puts Toto in his pocket to guard the apples he's stolen.) Button-Bright will have more to say than, "Don't know." And even Polychrome will be a more developed personality, although I was fond enough of her after this book to name my calico kitten after her.
Since this is the book where Baum refers to just about every one of his non-Oz books to that point (no sign of the Magical Monarch of Mo), Neill has a chance to draw John Dough, Santa Claus, the Queen of Merryland, and so on. I think his Zixi is as good as Richardson's, better facially but not as beautifully gowned. Neill also gets his first try at Toto, and as I said, I prefer Denslow's. There is a great picture of Dorothy and Toto looking at tin statues of themselves as they "first appeared in the Land of Oz." (Look for Denslow's hippocampi on the pedestals.) As always, Neill shines with the castles and palaces, not just the Tin Woodman's tin castle, but the glimpses of Ozma's palace, particularly the one of Jellia Jamb running down the grand front steps to greet Dorothy. Neill's style is less detailed than in Land, but once again there are some illustrations worth poring over. (The ones in Ozma and DatW are plainer.)
We get to Oz at an earlier point than in the third and fourth books, just past halfway, which is probably just as well. Most of the second half is taken up with Ozma's birthday party, including the anticipation. Ozma has the same birthday as my ex-husband, August 21st, and as I mentioned earlier, you can make a chronology using clues from the "tombstones" for Jack's pumpkin-heads.
This is the first Oz book to set up the utopian features that will be expanded on later, although I won't tag the series with "utopias" just yet, since it's not fully integrated. The Tin Woodman, who in the second book was going to make the temporarily money-stuffed Scarecrow his Royal Treasurer, and who in the third book owed six weeks of back pay to one of the soldiers, is now horrified by the idea of "using money to buy things with, instead of love and kindness and the desire to please one another." Also, when Dorothy thinks Jack has died, she says, "But I thought nobody ever died in Oz," even though her kitten was threatened with the death penalty nine times, as recently as the previous book. It's as if Baum has switched the rules on us and then pretends that they've always been like this. Maybe Ozma, as the rightful ruler, had to be on her throne long enough for the rules to change, and maybe Baum/Ozma/Glinda/??? has again Orwellianly rewritten history and hopes we won't notice.
Well, it probably wasn't Glinda. In the big birthday parade, the nameless King of the Quadlings marches with Nick and the other quadrant-rulers, but Glinda is marching with the Good Witch of the North. I can't remember when Glinda will get her throne back, but I assure you that when she does, there'll be no mention of her ever being off it.
I've decided to keep the paperback copy, even though it's in worse condition, because the hardcover doesn't haven't any outside illustrations, except the spine. The paperback has the visit to Jack's house on the front cover, and Ozma and Dorothy almost kissing on the back. (It's more innocent than it sounds.)
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Road to Oz
Paperback $1.95, hardcover $3.00
Paperback stained with bent covers, hardcover pretty good condition
C+
This is possibly Baum's weakest Oz book. The journey on the road to Oz is mostly forgettable. Foxville and Dunkiton are among the more boring "animal" lands. The Scoodlers are the highlight, sort of like The Hammerheads in Wizard, but their heads are detachable. Neill has fun decorating them with things like clubs and spades, pawnbrokers' balls and symbols of currency.
All three of Dorothy's traveling companions come off better in other books. The Shaggy Man is wittier later, and he won't set off Stranger Danger vibes. (As a child, it bothered me less that Dorothy goes wandering off with a stranger, since she makes a habit of that, than that he puts Toto in his pocket to guard the apples he's stolen.) Button-Bright will have more to say than, "Don't know." And even Polychrome will be a more developed personality, although I was fond enough of her after this book to name my calico kitten after her.
Since this is the book where Baum refers to just about every one of his non-Oz books to that point (no sign of the Magical Monarch of Mo), Neill has a chance to draw John Dough, Santa Claus, the Queen of Merryland, and so on. I think his Zixi is as good as Richardson's, better facially but not as beautifully gowned. Neill also gets his first try at Toto, and as I said, I prefer Denslow's. There is a great picture of Dorothy and Toto looking at tin statues of themselves as they "first appeared in the Land of Oz." (Look for Denslow's hippocampi on the pedestals.) As always, Neill shines with the castles and palaces, not just the Tin Woodman's tin castle, but the glimpses of Ozma's palace, particularly the one of Jellia Jamb running down the grand front steps to greet Dorothy. Neill's style is less detailed than in Land, but once again there are some illustrations worth poring over. (The ones in Ozma and DatW are plainer.)
We get to Oz at an earlier point than in the third and fourth books, just past halfway, which is probably just as well. Most of the second half is taken up with Ozma's birthday party, including the anticipation. Ozma has the same birthday as my ex-husband, August 21st, and as I mentioned earlier, you can make a chronology using clues from the "tombstones" for Jack's pumpkin-heads.
This is the first Oz book to set up the utopian features that will be expanded on later, although I won't tag the series with "utopias" just yet, since it's not fully integrated. The Tin Woodman, who in the second book was going to make the temporarily money-stuffed Scarecrow his Royal Treasurer, and who in the third book owed six weeks of back pay to one of the soldiers, is now horrified by the idea of "using money to buy things with, instead of love and kindness and the desire to please one another." Also, when Dorothy thinks Jack has died, she says, "But I thought nobody ever died in Oz," even though her kitten was threatened with the death penalty nine times, as recently as the previous book. It's as if Baum has switched the rules on us and then pretends that they've always been like this. Maybe Ozma, as the rightful ruler, had to be on her throne long enough for the rules to change, and maybe Baum/Ozma/Glinda/??? has again Orwellianly rewritten history and hopes we won't notice.
Well, it probably wasn't Glinda. In the big birthday parade, the nameless King of the Quadlings marches with Nick and the other quadrant-rulers, but Glinda is marching with the Good Witch of the North. I can't remember when Glinda will get her throne back, but I assure you that when she does, there'll be no mention of her ever being off it.
I've decided to keep the paperback copy, even though it's in worse condition, because the hardcover doesn't haven't any outside illustrations, except the spine. The paperback has the visit to Jack's house on the front cover, and Ozma and Dorothy almost kissing on the back. (It's more innocent than it sounds.)
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz
1908, 1970s Rand McNally edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz
Bought new for $1.95
Paperback with stains and amusingly a page torn by my cat of the time
B-
The Wizard's back! You know, the ruler who seldom showed himself to his people. The humbug swindler who abandoned Dorothy. And, oh yeah, the guy who gave baby Ozma to Mombi. Yay, the Wizard's back! Let's have a parade!
Well, as Baum says in his introduction, "It seems the jolly old fellow made hosts of friends in the first Oz book." So let's just ignore what we learned about him in the second book, and have Dorothy and the Ozites remember him fondly. Still, wouldn't you love to be in the room to ask a few uncomfortable questions when Ozma tells the Wizard how Mombi kidnapped Ozma's grandfather, imprisoning him and then later Ozma's father? "When I was born she transformed me into a boy." There's no explanation of how Mombi managed to be the jailor of three generations of the royal family without Glinda or somebody putting a stop to it. And it's not clear who rewrote history-- Ozma, her tutor the Wogglebug (now President of the Royal College of Scientific Athletics, part of Baum's satire of academia), Glinda, or our sometimes forgetful author?
Baum is starting to move towards a utopia, with Eureka's murder trial a rarity in a land where the people are "generally so well-behaved" that they don't have any lawyers. Baum gets to satirize law, too, and it's funny that no one minds that the Wizard and the soft-hearted Tin Woodman defraud the court by claiming one of the other nine piglets is the recovered victim.
Two-thirds of the book is set in other lands than Oz, ones that are less appealing than Ev or the Nome Country. I appreciate the ingenuity of Dorothy, the Wizard, and their new friends, but then there are moments like when I wonder, "Why don't they use the Braided Man's Flutters and Rustles to scare the noise-hating Gargoyles?" The story literally dead-ends in a cave, and there's no Vernean volcano to save them. Instead, Dorothy reveals that Ozma has been checking in on her every day at 4 o'clock. (In Ozma they decide on every Saturday, but maybe that wasn't often enough and Dorothy communicated this visually.) So Ozma uses the Magic Belt, which Dorothy took from the Nome King and left with Ozma, to rescue Dorothy and friends.
In the end, Dorothy and Eureka go to Kansas, although Eureka will be back in Oz without explanation later. "Cousin" Zeb and his horse Jim get sent back to California. Oh yeah, did I mention the earthquake? This book may or may not be set in 1906. I've seen a chronology for the first few Oz books, using the dates of Jack's pumpkin heads in Road to Oz and assuming this fourth book is set during the Great Quake in San Francisco. You can also roughly figure out Dorothy's age, based on clues from later books. You're not going to get an answer that will cover all contingencies, but it's convincing enough.
Unlike the rehabilitation of the Wizard. Still, remember, the Wizard is a good guy now. And Oceania has always been at war with Easteasia.
Oh, I suppose I should say something about Neill's illustrations. They're not very remarkable in this or Ozma. They get the job done but they're forgettable compared to the ones in the second and fifth books. I do like how he does castles, like the glass one on p. 24. I find it odd that he usually draws Eureka in white tie and tails, particularly since Eureka is a female kitten. Dorothy's wardrobe is more suited to her than in Ozma, being both simpler and more modern. His version of the Wizard plays up the Wizard's skullduggery, I mean charm.
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz
Bought new for $1.95
Paperback with stains and amusingly a page torn by my cat of the time
B-
The Wizard's back! You know, the ruler who seldom showed himself to his people. The humbug swindler who abandoned Dorothy. And, oh yeah, the guy who gave baby Ozma to Mombi. Yay, the Wizard's back! Let's have a parade!
Well, as Baum says in his introduction, "It seems the jolly old fellow made hosts of friends in the first Oz book." So let's just ignore what we learned about him in the second book, and have Dorothy and the Ozites remember him fondly. Still, wouldn't you love to be in the room to ask a few uncomfortable questions when Ozma tells the Wizard how Mombi kidnapped Ozma's grandfather, imprisoning him and then later Ozma's father? "When I was born she transformed me into a boy." There's no explanation of how Mombi managed to be the jailor of three generations of the royal family without Glinda or somebody putting a stop to it. And it's not clear who rewrote history-- Ozma, her tutor the Wogglebug (now President of the Royal College of Scientific Athletics, part of Baum's satire of academia), Glinda, or our sometimes forgetful author?
Baum is starting to move towards a utopia, with Eureka's murder trial a rarity in a land where the people are "generally so well-behaved" that they don't have any lawyers. Baum gets to satirize law, too, and it's funny that no one minds that the Wizard and the soft-hearted Tin Woodman defraud the court by claiming one of the other nine piglets is the recovered victim.
Two-thirds of the book is set in other lands than Oz, ones that are less appealing than Ev or the Nome Country. I appreciate the ingenuity of Dorothy, the Wizard, and their new friends, but then there are moments like when I wonder, "Why don't they use the Braided Man's Flutters and Rustles to scare the noise-hating Gargoyles?" The story literally dead-ends in a cave, and there's no Vernean volcano to save them. Instead, Dorothy reveals that Ozma has been checking in on her every day at 4 o'clock. (In Ozma they decide on every Saturday, but maybe that wasn't often enough and Dorothy communicated this visually.) So Ozma uses the Magic Belt, which Dorothy took from the Nome King and left with Ozma, to rescue Dorothy and friends.
In the end, Dorothy and Eureka go to Kansas, although Eureka will be back in Oz without explanation later. "Cousin" Zeb and his horse Jim get sent back to California. Oh yeah, did I mention the earthquake? This book may or may not be set in 1906. I've seen a chronology for the first few Oz books, using the dates of Jack's pumpkin heads in Road to Oz and assuming this fourth book is set during the Great Quake in San Francisco. You can also roughly figure out Dorothy's age, based on clues from later books. You're not going to get an answer that will cover all contingencies, but it's convincing enough.
Unlike the rehabilitation of the Wizard. Still, remember, the Wizard is a good guy now. And Oceania has always been at war with Easteasia.
Oh, I suppose I should say something about Neill's illustrations. They're not very remarkable in this or Ozma. They get the job done but they're forgettable compared to the ones in the second and fifth books. I do like how he does castles, like the glass one on p. 24. I find it odd that he usually draws Eureka in white tie and tails, particularly since Eureka is a female kitten. Dorothy's wardrobe is more suited to her than in Ozma, being both simpler and more modern. His version of the Wizard plays up the Wizard's skullduggery, I mean charm.
Ozma of Oz
1907, 1970s Regnery edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
Ozma of Oz
Bought new for $3.95
Paperback with stains and worn corners
B
The Gales don't seem to be doing too badly financially at this point. Not only is Dorothy illustrated with a pearl necklace, but Henry can afford to take the two of them to Australia when his health is poor. She ends up in a different "Oz" of course, thanks to a shipwreck. Most of the book though takes place in Ev, another of Baum's two-letter countries. Some time before the story starts, the wicked King of Ev sells his wife and ten children to the Nome King in exchange for a long life, which he throws away when he commits suicide in remorse. Ozma decides to go rescue the Evian royal family. She's accompanied by Dorothy's old friends the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman, and the Cowardly Lion, as well as the 27-man army and the Lion's friend the Hungry Tiger.
Baum tends to be satirical towards the military, presenting them as more cowardly than the lion, and with a taste for finery. Confusingly, the Soldier with the Green Whiskers of the first two books is now a private named Omby Amby, rather than the entire army, as he was in Land. He gets promoted to Captain General at the end of this book, because he's braver than the 26 officers.
Baum also gently mocks royalty in this book. The tragedy of Ev is softened by the humor of the interim ruler, the king's niece, Langwidere. This languid and vain young lady has 30 heads, all very Gibson-girlish. The Nome King, Roquat the Red, is the main ruler we see and he's complex, in a different way than Zixi. Tiktok, the Machine Man, says that the Nome King is kind, and we know that Tiktok can't lie, but Tiktok knows nothing of Machiavellian politics. The Nome King is jovial, Santa-Claus-like, when things are going his way, but he has a huge army of nomes and a Magic Belt. He also has cunning, and he tricks Ozma and her companions into thinking that it'll be a simple task to free the Ev royals.
As a child, the ornament-guessing game was my favorite part, along with the lunch-boxes and dinner-pails that grow on trees. Once again, lives and a country's future are at stake, but the game also works as a puzzle. I was happy for Dorothy when she found the youngest prince, and I liked that saucy hen Billina outsmarted the Nome King. Baum's first published book, in 1886, was about raising chickens, so it's not too surprising that a chicken is the true heroine of this story.
And what of Ozma in the book that bears her name? I remember reading years ago a speculation that her uncharacteristic behavior in this tale, compared to the mostly serene, stay-at-home ruler of the later books, is due to testosterone poisoning, as if she hasn't quite adjusted to being a girl yet, and so feels the need to invade other lands and interfere with their governments. Considering Margaret Thatcher among others, I don't think you have to be male to be interventionist. However, whatever the reason, this is a more aggressive Ozma than we usually see. An interesting character moment is when Ozma first demands that the Nome King appear, and Tiktok reminds her that she doesn't rule Roquat. She changes her command to a request, but he still doesn't appear. Tiktok advises entreaty, but she and her followers don't think she should "humble" herself. So Dorothy says, "I'm not afraid to plead with him. I'm only a little girl from Kansas, and we've got more dignity at home than we know what to do with." This is one of the reasons I've always much preferred Dorothy to Ozma.
Dorothy has changed though since we last saw her. Not only is Neill dressing her more fashionably than Denslow did (wait till we get to the 1920s!), but Baum has started using a slightly annoying dialect for her, to emphasize her age and/or Kansas-ness. She corrects Billina's grammar but herself says things like "zactly" and "comfor'ble." She also tries to improve Billina's manners, but she is just as mouthy to Langwidere.
We don't get to Oz until the last two chapters, but it's the beginning of retcon. Green spectacles are no longer needed in the Emerald City, whether to make you think that there are real emeralds (as in Wizard) or to protect your eyes from the glare of emeralds (as in Land). There's a mention of the "kings" of the four countries, although Glinda still rules the Quadlings. The next book will have more dramatic and more important revisions....
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
Ozma of Oz
Bought new for $3.95
Paperback with stains and worn corners
B
The Gales don't seem to be doing too badly financially at this point. Not only is Dorothy illustrated with a pearl necklace, but Henry can afford to take the two of them to Australia when his health is poor. She ends up in a different "Oz" of course, thanks to a shipwreck. Most of the book though takes place in Ev, another of Baum's two-letter countries. Some time before the story starts, the wicked King of Ev sells his wife and ten children to the Nome King in exchange for a long life, which he throws away when he commits suicide in remorse. Ozma decides to go rescue the Evian royal family. She's accompanied by Dorothy's old friends the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman, and the Cowardly Lion, as well as the 27-man army and the Lion's friend the Hungry Tiger.
Baum tends to be satirical towards the military, presenting them as more cowardly than the lion, and with a taste for finery. Confusingly, the Soldier with the Green Whiskers of the first two books is now a private named Omby Amby, rather than the entire army, as he was in Land. He gets promoted to Captain General at the end of this book, because he's braver than the 26 officers.
Baum also gently mocks royalty in this book. The tragedy of Ev is softened by the humor of the interim ruler, the king's niece, Langwidere. This languid and vain young lady has 30 heads, all very Gibson-girlish. The Nome King, Roquat the Red, is the main ruler we see and he's complex, in a different way than Zixi. Tiktok, the Machine Man, says that the Nome King is kind, and we know that Tiktok can't lie, but Tiktok knows nothing of Machiavellian politics. The Nome King is jovial, Santa-Claus-like, when things are going his way, but he has a huge army of nomes and a Magic Belt. He also has cunning, and he tricks Ozma and her companions into thinking that it'll be a simple task to free the Ev royals.
As a child, the ornament-guessing game was my favorite part, along with the lunch-boxes and dinner-pails that grow on trees. Once again, lives and a country's future are at stake, but the game also works as a puzzle. I was happy for Dorothy when she found the youngest prince, and I liked that saucy hen Billina outsmarted the Nome King. Baum's first published book, in 1886, was about raising chickens, so it's not too surprising that a chicken is the true heroine of this story.
And what of Ozma in the book that bears her name? I remember reading years ago a speculation that her uncharacteristic behavior in this tale, compared to the mostly serene, stay-at-home ruler of the later books, is due to testosterone poisoning, as if she hasn't quite adjusted to being a girl yet, and so feels the need to invade other lands and interfere with their governments. Considering Margaret Thatcher among others, I don't think you have to be male to be interventionist. However, whatever the reason, this is a more aggressive Ozma than we usually see. An interesting character moment is when Ozma first demands that the Nome King appear, and Tiktok reminds her that she doesn't rule Roquat. She changes her command to a request, but he still doesn't appear. Tiktok advises entreaty, but she and her followers don't think she should "humble" herself. So Dorothy says, "I'm not afraid to plead with him. I'm only a little girl from Kansas, and we've got more dignity at home than we know what to do with." This is one of the reasons I've always much preferred Dorothy to Ozma.
Dorothy has changed though since we last saw her. Not only is Neill dressing her more fashionably than Denslow did (wait till we get to the 1920s!), but Baum has started using a slightly annoying dialect for her, to emphasize her age and/or Kansas-ness. She corrects Billina's grammar but herself says things like "zactly" and "comfor'ble." She also tries to improve Billina's manners, but she is just as mouthy to Langwidere.
We don't get to Oz until the last two chapters, but it's the beginning of retcon. Green spectacles are no longer needed in the Emerald City, whether to make you think that there are real emeralds (as in Wizard) or to protect your eyes from the glare of emeralds (as in Land). There's a mention of the "kings" of the four countries, although Glinda still rules the Quadlings. The next book will have more dramatic and more important revisions....
Queen Zixi of Ix
1905, 1971 Dover edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by Frederick Richardson
Queen Zixi of Ix, or The Story of the Magic Cloak
Original price $2.50, purchase price unknown
Paperback with stains
B
Despite the title, we don't get to Zixi or Ix till about 100 pages in. Most of the story is set in Noland, a rather Erewhonian name for a country. A peasant boy and girl find themselves royalty through a quirk of law. And, although it's not remarked on in the text, they quickly assume aristocratic attitudes. It really struck me on this reading how they and Zixi bully people, like threatening Dame Dingle for not knowing that the cloak she cut up for patchwork is magic. And, until Bud's sister Fluff tells him he has to pay for all the good things in their new royal life by performing his duties as king, such as settling disputes, he acts like a shiftless nobleman. I do like the twist on Solomon, where the woman who best knows how to milk a cow is actually the neighbor. (Bud doesn't suggest cutting the cow in half, although that might've been a better solution.)
The real title character is the cloak, which grants one wish to each wearer, as long as it isn't stolen. When Zixi hears about it, she wants to wear it so she can wish that her mirror image would reflect the illusion of youth and beauty that everyone else sees when they look at her. Baum doesn't make her clearly good or bad, and I like that complexity. Even the "mean aunt," Rivette, becomes kind and brave, once she's got money and a pair of wings.
The illustrations by Richardson aren't good as I remember, with the faces sometimes looking a bit bland, and too many of the characters being blond(e), even when the text doesn't support this. I do like what he did with Ruffles the dog, and the design of the clothes, especially Zixi's, remain gorgeous.
There will be some crossovers with the Oz books later, but this has a more old-fashioned feel to it than Oz, as a land of fairies and ferries. Ix and Noland have a strolling minstrel, while Oz has a walking phonograph. It's probably the best of Baum's non-Oz books (depending on how you count the "Trot" books), but only as good as his average Oz story.
In 1914, Baum's film company made The Magic Cloak of Oz, which I've so far watched the first six minutes of on Youtube. It's OK but not riveting, or Rivetting.
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by Frederick Richardson
Queen Zixi of Ix, or The Story of the Magic Cloak
Original price $2.50, purchase price unknown
Paperback with stains
B
Despite the title, we don't get to Zixi or Ix till about 100 pages in. Most of the story is set in Noland, a rather Erewhonian name for a country. A peasant boy and girl find themselves royalty through a quirk of law. And, although it's not remarked on in the text, they quickly assume aristocratic attitudes. It really struck me on this reading how they and Zixi bully people, like threatening Dame Dingle for not knowing that the cloak she cut up for patchwork is magic. And, until Bud's sister Fluff tells him he has to pay for all the good things in their new royal life by performing his duties as king, such as settling disputes, he acts like a shiftless nobleman. I do like the twist on Solomon, where the woman who best knows how to milk a cow is actually the neighbor. (Bud doesn't suggest cutting the cow in half, although that might've been a better solution.)
The real title character is the cloak, which grants one wish to each wearer, as long as it isn't stolen. When Zixi hears about it, she wants to wear it so she can wish that her mirror image would reflect the illusion of youth and beauty that everyone else sees when they look at her. Baum doesn't make her clearly good or bad, and I like that complexity. Even the "mean aunt," Rivette, becomes kind and brave, once she's got money and a pair of wings.
The illustrations by Richardson aren't good as I remember, with the faces sometimes looking a bit bland, and too many of the characters being blond(e), even when the text doesn't support this. I do like what he did with Ruffles the dog, and the design of the clothes, especially Zixi's, remain gorgeous.
There will be some crossovers with the Oz books later, but this has a more old-fashioned feel to it than Oz, as a land of fairies and ferries. Ix and Noland have a strolling minstrel, while Oz has a walking phonograph. It's probably the best of Baum's non-Oz books (depending on how you count the "Trot" books), but only as good as his average Oz story.
In 1914, Baum's film company made The Magic Cloak of Oz, which I've so far watched the first six minutes of on Youtube. It's OK but not riveting, or Rivetting.
Monday, March 12, 2012
The Land of Oz
1904, mid-1970s Reilly & Lee edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Land of Oz
Original and purchase price unknown
Hardcover with stains
A-
While rereading this book, I kept thinking how awesome and fun it is, in a way I didn't for Wizard. Part of it that Neill's drawings trump Denslow's, particularly in his debut. Whether it's a picture that makes me pore over the details, as the ones involving magic do, or the action-packed sequences, like the three pictures that show what happens when the Sawhorse jumps over a river, with a silent movie feel, every illustration enhances the story. And such a good story! Tip is a fine hero: mischievous but good-hearted, practical, occasionally clever, and very human. I got this book at such a young age-- for Easter, from the aunt who'd got me Wizard the previous Christmas-- I don't know if it ever seemed weird to me that he turns into not just a girl but a princess at the end. I think I was more confused by the changing hair color. (Tip is brunet, Ozma has "tresses of ruddy gold," but from the third book on she's back to black hair.)
I think I missed Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion, but they came back for the next book, so that was OK. (It would be a longer wait for Toto.) The new characters, particularly the pedantic yet pun-obsessed Wogglebug, are worthy additions. I always had a soft spot for the Saw-horse, because he's so down-to-earth. And this was years before Forest Gump, but I soon learned that the Gump took its name from turn-of-the-century slang for a "foolish person." As I mentioned in my post on Wizard, I loved how amazing Glinda is in this book. Her Crowning Moment of Awesome is when she jumps on the Saw-horse and chases Mombi (disguised as a Griffin) to the edge of the Deadly Desert.
I suppose there's a paper to be written, if it hasn't been done already, about the nature of gender in this book, particularly with the satire of the suffragette movement, as embodied in General Jinjur and her Army of Revolt. I never really saw the story as sexist, or anti-sexist. When Baum is racist, it's very obvious. But his feelings about men and women, boys and girls, are more complex. Certainly, Mombi is one of his great villainesses, and a lot scarier than the Nome King would ever be. (More on that later.)
As the second Oz book, this is less retconny than I expected. Tip's version of the Wizard's balloon escape doesn't match canon, but it may be how he heard it way up in the Gillikin Country, particularly if his source was the biased Mombi. This is pretty much Oz as we saw it four years earlier. (Except that less time has passed in Oz than in the real world, since Dorothy definitely won't be seven years older when she returns.) It does look different, thanks to Neill's characteristic "grinning houses." But it's still a land where money is important and witches have a lot of power. (Mombi is secretly breaking the law that the still nameless Good Witch of the North has passed about forbidding other witches in her region.) Once Ozma takes the throne, things will gradually change, but we're still in old-school Oz, literally in the case of the Wogglebug.
He's H.M., Highly Magnified, permanently, after Professor Nowitall uses a magnifying-glass and projects him on a screen. No one questions the logistics of this. It's a less Carrollian book than Mo, but I think the part about counting to 17 by twos is worthy of Carroll, both as math and as absurdity. The scene where Jellia Jamb, one of my favorite minor characters, "interprets" for the Scarecrow and Jack Pumpkinhead is also very absurd. If the story is better than Alice in Wonderland, it's probably because there's more at risk here. The lives of Tip and his friends are at stake, as is the future of Oz. It's definitely not a dream. And yet, there's time for wordplay and bickering and bonding and a reunion with the Queen of the Mice. No wonder that Tip wants to stay a boy and travel with his friends. His life as Ozma will become less adventurous. But first, there's going to be an experiment in interventionism....
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Land of Oz
Original and purchase price unknown
Hardcover with stains
A-
While rereading this book, I kept thinking how awesome and fun it is, in a way I didn't for Wizard. Part of it that Neill's drawings trump Denslow's, particularly in his debut. Whether it's a picture that makes me pore over the details, as the ones involving magic do, or the action-packed sequences, like the three pictures that show what happens when the Sawhorse jumps over a river, with a silent movie feel, every illustration enhances the story. And such a good story! Tip is a fine hero: mischievous but good-hearted, practical, occasionally clever, and very human. I got this book at such a young age-- for Easter, from the aunt who'd got me Wizard the previous Christmas-- I don't know if it ever seemed weird to me that he turns into not just a girl but a princess at the end. I think I was more confused by the changing hair color. (Tip is brunet, Ozma has "tresses of ruddy gold," but from the third book on she's back to black hair.)
I think I missed Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion, but they came back for the next book, so that was OK. (It would be a longer wait for Toto.) The new characters, particularly the pedantic yet pun-obsessed Wogglebug, are worthy additions. I always had a soft spot for the Saw-horse, because he's so down-to-earth. And this was years before Forest Gump, but I soon learned that the Gump took its name from turn-of-the-century slang for a "foolish person." As I mentioned in my post on Wizard, I loved how amazing Glinda is in this book. Her Crowning Moment of Awesome is when she jumps on the Saw-horse and chases Mombi (disguised as a Griffin) to the edge of the Deadly Desert.
I suppose there's a paper to be written, if it hasn't been done already, about the nature of gender in this book, particularly with the satire of the suffragette movement, as embodied in General Jinjur and her Army of Revolt. I never really saw the story as sexist, or anti-sexist. When Baum is racist, it's very obvious. But his feelings about men and women, boys and girls, are more complex. Certainly, Mombi is one of his great villainesses, and a lot scarier than the Nome King would ever be. (More on that later.)
As the second Oz book, this is less retconny than I expected. Tip's version of the Wizard's balloon escape doesn't match canon, but it may be how he heard it way up in the Gillikin Country, particularly if his source was the biased Mombi. This is pretty much Oz as we saw it four years earlier. (Except that less time has passed in Oz than in the real world, since Dorothy definitely won't be seven years older when she returns.) It does look different, thanks to Neill's characteristic "grinning houses." But it's still a land where money is important and witches have a lot of power. (Mombi is secretly breaking the law that the still nameless Good Witch of the North has passed about forbidding other witches in her region.) Once Ozma takes the throne, things will gradually change, but we're still in old-school Oz, literally in the case of the Wogglebug.
He's H.M., Highly Magnified, permanently, after Professor Nowitall uses a magnifying-glass and projects him on a screen. No one questions the logistics of this. It's a less Carrollian book than Mo, but I think the part about counting to 17 by twos is worthy of Carroll, both as math and as absurdity. The scene where Jellia Jamb, one of my favorite minor characters, "interprets" for the Scarecrow and Jack Pumpkinhead is also very absurd. If the story is better than Alice in Wonderland, it's probably because there's more at risk here. The lives of Tip and his friends are at stake, as is the future of Oz. It's definitely not a dream. And yet, there's time for wordplay and bickering and bonding and a reunion with the Queen of the Mice. No wonder that Tip wants to stay a boy and travel with his friends. His life as Ozma will become less adventurous. But first, there's going to be an experiment in interventionism....
Friday, March 9, 2012
The Magical Monarch of Mo
1903, 1968 Dover edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by Frank Ver Beck
The Magical Monarch of Mo
Original price $2.95, purchase price unknown
Decent edition paperback
B-
Baum actually wrote this book back in 1896 but it wasn't published till 1900, as A New Wonderland. Then it was reissued in '03 with the current title, and the name of the country changed throughout from Phunnyland to Mo, probably because the latter more resembles Oz. It's not an Oz book but Mo has more affinity to Oz, particularly his later version of Oz, than do any of the places in American Fairy Tales. And there are some crossovers in a couple Oz books.
I think I liked the book more as a child than I do now, although even then I preferred Queen Zixi (1905). As Martin Gardner points out in his introduction, this is a more episodic story. The episodes, or "surprises" as the chapters are called, are more whimsy-driven than plot-driven. My favorite is The Ninth Surprise, "The Wizard and the Princess Truella." Not only is it one of the two adventures with Glinda wannabe Maëtta, but Truella shows true cleverness and courage. As for the rest of the book, it's mostly a matter of funny (or "phunny") moments, like the talking monkeys who discuss evolution or the prince who uses a flying fish to get an apple from a tall, trunkless tree. (Why not a bird? Because if you're going to be whimsical, you've got to out-Carroll Carroll.)
Due to the setting, there are fewer topical references than in American Fairy Tales, although on this reading I couldn't help wondering if Crown Prince Zingle, frustrated that his father can never die, was a tweaking of Edward VII, who was heir to the throne for almost 60 years. There's less racism than in AFT, but unfortunately Baum names one of the monsters "Gigaboo."
Baum considered Ver Beck's illustrations to be superior to any in his other books at that point. I agree that they're best I've seen so far, although I recall Zixi's as better. Unlike Denslow, Ver Beck is more successful drawing people than animals, so it's surprising that he specialized in comic animal drawings. The pictures here are mostly small, marginal ones, although Dover also includes color plates. This is a good moment to mention that I'm very pleased with the Dover editions of the non-Oz Baum books. As the note on the back deservedly boasts, the binding and paper are superior to what you'd expect for a paperback children's book. They've definitely stood up to multiple readings, including in this case by whatever reader got this book when I was a baby.
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by Frank Ver Beck
The Magical Monarch of Mo
Original price $2.95, purchase price unknown
Decent edition paperback
B-
Baum actually wrote this book back in 1896 but it wasn't published till 1900, as A New Wonderland. Then it was reissued in '03 with the current title, and the name of the country changed throughout from Phunnyland to Mo, probably because the latter more resembles Oz. It's not an Oz book but Mo has more affinity to Oz, particularly his later version of Oz, than do any of the places in American Fairy Tales. And there are some crossovers in a couple Oz books.
I think I liked the book more as a child than I do now, although even then I preferred Queen Zixi (1905). As Martin Gardner points out in his introduction, this is a more episodic story. The episodes, or "surprises" as the chapters are called, are more whimsy-driven than plot-driven. My favorite is The Ninth Surprise, "The Wizard and the Princess Truella." Not only is it one of the two adventures with Glinda wannabe Maëtta, but Truella shows true cleverness and courage. As for the rest of the book, it's mostly a matter of funny (or "phunny") moments, like the talking monkeys who discuss evolution or the prince who uses a flying fish to get an apple from a tall, trunkless tree. (Why not a bird? Because if you're going to be whimsical, you've got to out-Carroll Carroll.)
Due to the setting, there are fewer topical references than in American Fairy Tales, although on this reading I couldn't help wondering if Crown Prince Zingle, frustrated that his father can never die, was a tweaking of Edward VII, who was heir to the throne for almost 60 years. There's less racism than in AFT, but unfortunately Baum names one of the monsters "Gigaboo."
Baum considered Ver Beck's illustrations to be superior to any in his other books at that point. I agree that they're best I've seen so far, although I recall Zixi's as better. Unlike Denslow, Ver Beck is more successful drawing people than animals, so it's surprising that he specialized in comic animal drawings. The pictures here are mostly small, marginal ones, although Dover also includes color plates. This is a good moment to mention that I'm very pleased with the Dover editions of the non-Oz Baum books. As the note on the back deservedly boasts, the binding and paper are superior to what you'd expect for a paperback children's book. They've definitely stood up to multiple readings, including in this case by whatever reader got this book when I was a baby.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
American Fairy Tales
1901, 1978 Dover edition
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by N.P. Hall, Harry Kennedy, Ike Morgan, and Ralph Fletcher Seymour
American Fairy Tales
Bought new for $3.00
Fair condition paperback
B-
As Martin Gardner notes in the introduction, not all of these are set in America, and not all of these are about fairies, but they all involve magic and/or fantasy. Sadly, one of the non-American tales is racist. "The Laughing Hippopotamus" has a line about the "oily odor of black people." Also, "The Mandarin and the Butterfly" is racist against the Chinese. The Italian bandits in the first story, "The Box of Robbers," are a bit less stereotypical. Yes, Baum was a product of his time, but it's still worth noting his racism.
On the plus side of this being a very early-20th-century children's book, there are such "1901" moments as the satire of women's fashion (in "The Enchanted Types" and "The Dummy That Lived") and the reference to "the republic of Macvelt" in "The Queen of Quok." (William McKinley was still President at the time this story was serialized in newspapers , although he'd be assassinated on Sept. 6th, succeeded by Teddy Roosevelt.) Much of the humor is aimed at adults, in a sort of Shrek way, but that makes it more enjoyable now than when I was a kid.
On the other hand, I really don't care for most of the illustrations. At least Denslow did some nice pictures in Wizard, but almost all of Morgan's are bad, and he did two-thirds of the dozen stories. Kennedy's art is good, especially in "The Glass Dog," where there's no clear moral, as Baum facetiously admits. Certainly, Baum's moral for the best fairy tale here, "The Magic Bonbons," is debatable, since Bessie Bostwick enjoys "playing the piano better than Rubenstein."
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by N.P. Hall, Harry Kennedy, Ike Morgan, and Ralph Fletcher Seymour
American Fairy Tales
Bought new for $3.00
Fair condition paperback
B-
As Martin Gardner notes in the introduction, not all of these are set in America, and not all of these are about fairies, but they all involve magic and/or fantasy. Sadly, one of the non-American tales is racist. "The Laughing Hippopotamus" has a line about the "oily odor of black people." Also, "The Mandarin and the Butterfly" is racist against the Chinese. The Italian bandits in the first story, "The Box of Robbers," are a bit less stereotypical. Yes, Baum was a product of his time, but it's still worth noting his racism.
On the plus side of this being a very early-20th-century children's book, there are such "1901" moments as the satire of women's fashion (in "The Enchanted Types" and "The Dummy That Lived") and the reference to "the republic of Macvelt" in "The Queen of Quok." (William McKinley was still President at the time this story was serialized in newspapers , although he'd be assassinated on Sept. 6th, succeeded by Teddy Roosevelt.) Much of the humor is aimed at adults, in a sort of Shrek way, but that makes it more enjoyable now than when I was a kid.
On the other hand, I really don't care for most of the illustrations. At least Denslow did some nice pictures in Wizard, but almost all of Morgan's are bad, and he did two-thirds of the dozen stories. Kennedy's art is good, especially in "The Glass Dog," where there's no clear moral, as Baum facetiously admits. Certainly, Baum's moral for the best fairy tale here, "The Magic Bonbons," is debatable, since Bessie Bostwick enjoys "playing the piano better than Rubenstein."
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
The Wizard of Oz
1900, two copies, one a paperback Rand McNally, the other a hardcover Reilly & Lee, both copyright 1956 but purchased in the mid-1970s
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by W. W. Denslow
The Wizard of Oz
Prices unknown
Paperback partly colored in and stained, hardcover has worn corners but otherwise good
B+
I got the hardcover of this book for Christmas 1975, from the same aunt who bought me Eight Cousins. I don't remember why I got a paperback after that as well, but it's clearly a used copy, because I scribbled out the original owner's name and "PRIVATE PROPERTY," to put my own name. I also colored in some of the black & white pictures, carefully shading Dorothy's dress as blue, although I put the Munchkins into all different colors, ignoring the text. The hardcover has a palate that sort of observes the sections of the country that she's in, so that the Emerald City is in green & white, although the Winkie section is orange rather than yellow. Anyway, I've owned two copies of this book for over 35 years, although I'll probably toss the paperback now.
Eight Cousins didn't have this effect on me. It didn't make me braid my hair and carry around whatever of my stuffed animals looked most like a Scotch terrier, playing I was on the Yellow Brick Road. Its sequel didn't turn me into a "utopian socialist with a monarchist twist" well into my 20s. True, there wasn't an awesome if unfaithful movie adaptation of Eight Cousins, but there must've been something about the first Oz book that made me go on to collect over 30 more.
Rereading it now, I'm most struck by its simplicity. It's not Dick & Jane language, but it's spare, with none of the lush description I remember from some of the sequels. I was not quite 8 when I first read it, but I don't remember struggling with it. Incredibly, the Accelerated Reader List puts it as 8.1, meaning it's meant for 8th graders. True, I was an advanced reader, but I don't know anyone who first encountered this story as a teenager.
Baum says in his introduction that he was trying to write "a modernized fairy tale, in which the wonderment and joy are retained and nightmares are left out." But I remember being frightened of the Kalidahs and the (unillustrated) giant spider. Certainly, it's a heartache when the wizard flies off in the balloon and Dorothy thinks she can't get home. Baum isn't macabre like the Grimms, but this isn't a light, fluffy children's book either. Dorothy, possibly because she's illustrated to look like a fat, middle-aged hausfrau, always struck me as very mature in this book, more so than later. She's probably the most sensible person around. Her friends all have their delusions, both before and after the wizard gives them their prizes.
Well, there's one more sensible person. I've always adored Glinda, so wise and beautiful (here with Art Nouveau curls and a heart-decorated frock). She doesn't get to do much in her debut, especially compared to the movie, where she's merged with the Good Witch of the North and with Billie Burke's airhead persona. But she shines in her brief moment, and I was so happy when she came back and kicked butt in the very next book.
I don't think Denslow's turn-of-the-century art has aged well. He's generally more successful with animals than people, with the exception of not only Glinda but Uncle Henry, who in his one illustration looks so weary. Toto is the one character that I think Denslow does better than John R. Neill. (More on this when we get to The Road to Oz.) I do like the way that the full-page illustrations are framed with a double line, often with a character sitting/standing in the lower left corner. I also found it helpful as a child that he repeats a drawing of the Golden Cap three times, but with numbers crossed out, for those keeping score of the wishes.
The Golden Cap didn't make it into the movie, and the Silver Shoes became Ruby Slippers. Those who gripe about how, for instance, the Harry Potter movies are "unfaithful" to the original source, have clearly never compared Wizard of Oz to its film version. I never held the infidelity against the Judy Garland movie. I loved it equally with the book. Nowadays, I don't think I love either. There are movies I enjoy more, and I do have to say that Little Women is a better children's story. But there still remains something special about this first Oz book.
L. Frank Baum
Illustrated by W. W. Denslow
The Wizard of Oz
Prices unknown
Paperback partly colored in and stained, hardcover has worn corners but otherwise good
B+
I got the hardcover of this book for Christmas 1975, from the same aunt who bought me Eight Cousins. I don't remember why I got a paperback after that as well, but it's clearly a used copy, because I scribbled out the original owner's name and "PRIVATE PROPERTY," to put my own name. I also colored in some of the black & white pictures, carefully shading Dorothy's dress as blue, although I put the Munchkins into all different colors, ignoring the text. The hardcover has a palate that sort of observes the sections of the country that she's in, so that the Emerald City is in green & white, although the Winkie section is orange rather than yellow. Anyway, I've owned two copies of this book for over 35 years, although I'll probably toss the paperback now.
Eight Cousins didn't have this effect on me. It didn't make me braid my hair and carry around whatever of my stuffed animals looked most like a Scotch terrier, playing I was on the Yellow Brick Road. Its sequel didn't turn me into a "utopian socialist with a monarchist twist" well into my 20s. True, there wasn't an awesome if unfaithful movie adaptation of Eight Cousins, but there must've been something about the first Oz book that made me go on to collect over 30 more.
Rereading it now, I'm most struck by its simplicity. It's not Dick & Jane language, but it's spare, with none of the lush description I remember from some of the sequels. I was not quite 8 when I first read it, but I don't remember struggling with it. Incredibly, the Accelerated Reader List puts it as 8.1, meaning it's meant for 8th graders. True, I was an advanced reader, but I don't know anyone who first encountered this story as a teenager.
Baum says in his introduction that he was trying to write "a modernized fairy tale, in which the wonderment and joy are retained and nightmares are left out." But I remember being frightened of the Kalidahs and the (unillustrated) giant spider. Certainly, it's a heartache when the wizard flies off in the balloon and Dorothy thinks she can't get home. Baum isn't macabre like the Grimms, but this isn't a light, fluffy children's book either. Dorothy, possibly because she's illustrated to look like a fat, middle-aged hausfrau, always struck me as very mature in this book, more so than later. She's probably the most sensible person around. Her friends all have their delusions, both before and after the wizard gives them their prizes.
Well, there's one more sensible person. I've always adored Glinda, so wise and beautiful (here with Art Nouveau curls and a heart-decorated frock). She doesn't get to do much in her debut, especially compared to the movie, where she's merged with the Good Witch of the North and with Billie Burke's airhead persona. But she shines in her brief moment, and I was so happy when she came back and kicked butt in the very next book.
I don't think Denslow's turn-of-the-century art has aged well. He's generally more successful with animals than people, with the exception of not only Glinda but Uncle Henry, who in his one illustration looks so weary. Toto is the one character that I think Denslow does better than John R. Neill. (More on this when we get to The Road to Oz.) I do like the way that the full-page illustrations are framed with a double line, often with a character sitting/standing in the lower left corner. I also found it helpful as a child that he repeats a drawing of the Golden Cap three times, but with numbers crossed out, for those keeping score of the wishes.
The Golden Cap didn't make it into the movie, and the Silver Shoes became Ruby Slippers. Those who gripe about how, for instance, the Harry Potter movies are "unfaithful" to the original source, have clearly never compared Wizard of Oz to its film version. I never held the infidelity against the Judy Garland movie. I loved it equally with the book. Nowadays, I don't think I love either. There are movies I enjoy more, and I do have to say that Little Women is a better children's story. But there still remains something special about this first Oz book.
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