1923, undated probably 1930s (see below) Reilly & Lee edition
Ruth Plumly Thompson
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Cowardly Lion of Oz
Bought used for $15.00
Hardcover with worn corners, stains, and some coloring
C+
On the "This Book Belongs to" page is written, "Mary Louisa [illegible] from Theda, Dec. 25, 1933, May you be very Happy always." That right there is the most interesting thing in the book. Who was Theda? A friend? An aunt? A psychologist? How happy was little Mary Louisa in the midst of the Depression? How did her life turn out later? And what, a Christmas gift with no seasonal greetings? And why did Mary Louisa just color in the first illustration, and not bother with the rest? I could've got this then roughly 55-year-old edition for even less if she had.
As for the story itself, it's about an unfunny clown and an initially sad orphan boy who go to Oz and are immediately recruited into capturing the title character for a king who's vaguely an Arab stereotype (but much less than the Silvermen are Chinese-ish). Meanwhile, our lion chum, on the very bad advice of Scraps, has decided to eat a brave man in order to gain real courage. (Forget this humbug wizard brew that's served him for about 20 years.) This book is the first where Thompson seriously begins the character assassination of my treasured Patchwork Girl. Not only does she make Scraps advocate murder, but she shows not only newbie Sir Hokus but even the Scarecrow trying to repress the irrepressible girl's enthusiasm and doggerel.
My main enjoyment was looking for the best unintended double entendre. It was tough to narrow down, with lines about knobs and rods (door and fishing respectively), and certainly the one about young Bob feeling uncomfortable when Notta (the annoyingly named clown, Notta Bit More) puts on one of his "queer costumes," deserves dishonorable mention. But I'm going to go with Bob's question to the Cowardly Lion, "Are you a friend of Dorothy's?" You go, Girl!
Neill's work is average this time. He can't seem to draw bald people without full heads of hair. There are times when I feel sorry for him, as when he has to present Notta (disguised as a fish) driving a Flyaboutabus and hitting a pedestrian who's encased in a glass jar. I'm sure Thompson was abstemious, but I wouldn't blame Neill for wondering sometimes what she was smoking. It would explain not only the oddness of her books but the beyond-Baum rambling nature.
The book ends with Notta and Bob settling in Oz, and Notta going off to pointlessly consult Prof. Wogglebug about Bob's "future." Besides the fact that people don't really age in Oz, Bob doesn't even show up in later books, unless I've completely blanked him and Notta out.
Showing posts with label utopias. Show all posts
Showing posts with label utopias. Show all posts
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Friday, April 13, 2012
Kabumpo in Oz
1922, 1985 Del Rey edition
Ruth Plumly Thompson
Illustrated by John R. Neill
Kabumpo in Oz
Bought newish for $5.95
Paperback with binding starting to loosen
B-
The first thing to address about this book is spelling. Thompson spells "gnome" with a G, which is more traditional. (Baum worried children wouldn't know how to pronounce it.) She does, however, misspell the northern country as "Gilliken," even though it's obvious that it should end in "kin," like "Munchkin."
The story begins in the North, in the tiny kingdom of Pumperdink. The prince receives a message that he must marry the "proper princess" or Pumperdink will disappear. So he and the title character, an Elegant Elephant, set out for the Emerald City so Prince Pompadore (yes, that's how she spells that) can propose to Ozma. If Ozma refuses, Kabumpo plans to kidnap her, yes, charming. He's also very rude later to Peg Amy, a wooden doll that's come to life, but he does redeem himself somewhat as the story goes on.
The places are more interesting than last time, including a sea of soup and a town populated by numbers. One place has creatures called the Twigs, and so this is the oldest book I own where people are called "faggots." In fact, there's a "faggoty old fairy," a 1000-year-old woman who collects sticks. She lives in the Follensby Forest, which is odd to read so soon after Babbitt's friends mock his middle name of Follonsbee.
The Gnome King, who got the Waters of Oblivion treatment again at the end of Magic of Oz, has his memory and wickedness back. This time, he gets exiled to an island, the Runaway Country, which has a "long wiggly peninsula." Why can't I read Thompson without thinking inappropriate thoughts? (Wait till we get to the "queer dicks" in Ojo in Oz!)
The other villain, J. Glegg, gets a more brutal punishment, held down by fourteen people and forced to drink Triple Trick Tea until he explodes. His scheme to marry Princess Peg Amy once she's disenchanted fails, partly thanks to Trot ex machina. Peg gets a happy ending with Prince Pompa, even though they've only known each other for about 100 pages and neither of them seems old enough to get married. In the illustrations he does not look like he's celebrating his 18th birthday for the tenth time.
Nonetheless, Neill does some good work here, particularly with the Royal Family of Pumperdink, Kabumpo included. He does draw a cat-like creature as a rabbit, perhaps mixing up the Curious Cottabus with Wag the rabbit. Wag in turn should not be confused with Wiggs or Woggs of Once on a Time. As for the weird Del Rey cover art this time, it's not too bad, except that Pompa should have lost some of his hair instead of sporting the Prince Valiant look, and the restored Peg Amy definitely doesn't look old enough to get married. (Neill shows her only in doll form.)
Ruth Plumly Thompson
Illustrated by John R. Neill
Kabumpo in Oz
Bought newish for $5.95
Paperback with binding starting to loosen
B-
The first thing to address about this book is spelling. Thompson spells "gnome" with a G, which is more traditional. (Baum worried children wouldn't know how to pronounce it.) She does, however, misspell the northern country as "Gilliken," even though it's obvious that it should end in "kin," like "Munchkin."
The story begins in the North, in the tiny kingdom of Pumperdink. The prince receives a message that he must marry the "proper princess" or Pumperdink will disappear. So he and the title character, an Elegant Elephant, set out for the Emerald City so Prince Pompadore (yes, that's how she spells that) can propose to Ozma. If Ozma refuses, Kabumpo plans to kidnap her, yes, charming. He's also very rude later to Peg Amy, a wooden doll that's come to life, but he does redeem himself somewhat as the story goes on.
The places are more interesting than last time, including a sea of soup and a town populated by numbers. One place has creatures called the Twigs, and so this is the oldest book I own where people are called "faggots." In fact, there's a "faggoty old fairy," a 1000-year-old woman who collects sticks. She lives in the Follensby Forest, which is odd to read so soon after Babbitt's friends mock his middle name of Follonsbee.
The Gnome King, who got the Waters of Oblivion treatment again at the end of Magic of Oz, has his memory and wickedness back. This time, he gets exiled to an island, the Runaway Country, which has a "long wiggly peninsula." Why can't I read Thompson without thinking inappropriate thoughts? (Wait till we get to the "queer dicks" in Ojo in Oz!)
The other villain, J. Glegg, gets a more brutal punishment, held down by fourteen people and forced to drink Triple Trick Tea until he explodes. His scheme to marry Princess Peg Amy once she's disenchanted fails, partly thanks to Trot ex machina. Peg gets a happy ending with Prince Pompa, even though they've only known each other for about 100 pages and neither of them seems old enough to get married. In the illustrations he does not look like he's celebrating his 18th birthday for the tenth time.
Nonetheless, Neill does some good work here, particularly with the Royal Family of Pumperdink, Kabumpo included. He does draw a cat-like creature as a rabbit, perhaps mixing up the Curious Cottabus with Wag the rabbit. Wag in turn should not be confused with Wiggs or Woggs of Once on a Time. As for the weird Del Rey cover art this time, it's not too bad, except that Pompa should have lost some of his hair instead of sporting the Prince Valiant look, and the restored Peg Amy definitely doesn't look old enough to get married. (Neill shows her only in doll form.)
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
The Royal Book of Oz
1921, 1985 Del Rey edition
Ruth Plumly Thompson
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Royal Book of Oz
Bought newish for $5.95
OK condition paperback
C+
An inauspicious debut for Thompson, this, like so many of her books, substitutes franticness for action. So it's funny when Dorothy tells her friends later of her "exciting adventures," when these include a visit to a town where everyone is sleepy (Pokes) and a city where everyone is fixed in place while the furniture moves (Fix City). She and the Cowardly Lion have gone in search of the Scarecrow, and along the way they meet Sir Hokus of Pokes, who knew King Arthur but has been asleep for only 500 years, and the Comfortable Camel and the Doubtful Dromedary, who rank somewhere above Hank the Mule and below Jim the Cab-Horse on the list of interesting beasts. Sir Hokus will become one of Thompson's favorite characters. In his introduction, he's OK, about as interesting as an Edward Eager knight. (Shockingly, I don't own any Eager books, since I was always checking them out of the library, because that's what his characters would've done.)
The "title character" is a sort of Debrett's Peerage for Oz, an idea of the Wogglebug's, despite the Scarecrow's belief that Oz is "democratic." The Scarecrow, although once on the Emerald City throne for a few months, doesn't have an impressive background. So he returns to the farm where he was created, and we even get a glimpse of the Munchkin farmer who put him together. Then he slides down his "family tree," the pole that Dorothy found him on. He lands on the Silver Island, which is modeled on China, so cue those stereotypes.
There are moments when the Scarecrow is longing to leave Silver Island and return to Oz that I feel like he's protesting being in a Thompson book, longing for imperfect but lovable Baum. Not that the book is completely irredeemable. There is some nice wordplay and Thompson has not yet abandoned most of Baum's characters. Actually, in her premiere that was credited to Baum until this edition, I get the sense that she's trying too hard, as when she sticks "Oz" and "ozzy" in wherever possible, as in her term for Oz geography, "ozify." (Not to be confused with "ossify.")
Speaking of maps, while I dislike the Del Rey covers' substitution of some weird art for classic Neill (this time the quintuple-spectacled Wogglebug flourishes the Royal Book at a horrified Scarecrow), I do appreciate the maps they include. The east-west problem is resolved and everything is neatly labeled and plausibly placed. Credit for those goes to James E. Hoff and Dick Martin of the International Wizard of Oz Club. The club is still around after 55 years by the way.
Ruth Plumly Thompson
Illustrated by John R. Neill
The Royal Book of Oz
Bought newish for $5.95
OK condition paperback
C+
An inauspicious debut for Thompson, this, like so many of her books, substitutes franticness for action. So it's funny when Dorothy tells her friends later of her "exciting adventures," when these include a visit to a town where everyone is sleepy (Pokes) and a city where everyone is fixed in place while the furniture moves (Fix City). She and the Cowardly Lion have gone in search of the Scarecrow, and along the way they meet Sir Hokus of Pokes, who knew King Arthur but has been asleep for only 500 years, and the Comfortable Camel and the Doubtful Dromedary, who rank somewhere above Hank the Mule and below Jim the Cab-Horse on the list of interesting beasts. Sir Hokus will become one of Thompson's favorite characters. In his introduction, he's OK, about as interesting as an Edward Eager knight. (Shockingly, I don't own any Eager books, since I was always checking them out of the library, because that's what his characters would've done.)
The "title character" is a sort of Debrett's Peerage for Oz, an idea of the Wogglebug's, despite the Scarecrow's belief that Oz is "democratic." The Scarecrow, although once on the Emerald City throne for a few months, doesn't have an impressive background. So he returns to the farm where he was created, and we even get a glimpse of the Munchkin farmer who put him together. Then he slides down his "family tree," the pole that Dorothy found him on. He lands on the Silver Island, which is modeled on China, so cue those stereotypes.
There are moments when the Scarecrow is longing to leave Silver Island and return to Oz that I feel like he's protesting being in a Thompson book, longing for imperfect but lovable Baum. Not that the book is completely irredeemable. There is some nice wordplay and Thompson has not yet abandoned most of Baum's characters. Actually, in her premiere that was credited to Baum until this edition, I get the sense that she's trying too hard, as when she sticks "Oz" and "ozzy" in wherever possible, as in her term for Oz geography, "ozify." (Not to be confused with "ossify.")
Speaking of maps, while I dislike the Del Rey covers' substitution of some weird art for classic Neill (this time the quintuple-spectacled Wogglebug flourishes the Royal Book at a horrified Scarecrow), I do appreciate the maps they include. The east-west problem is resolved and everything is neatly labeled and plausibly placed. Credit for those goes to James E. Hoff and Dick Martin of the International Wizard of Oz Club. The club is still around after 55 years by the way.
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?
Monday, March 26, 2012
Herland
1915
Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Herland
B-
Three modern men of various types, not unlike the suitors in A Mischievous Rudiment, discover a land populated solely by women. Narrator Van is quietly realistic, while Jeff is chivalrous and Terry is macho. Van is a sociologist, so he's particularly interested in how this society works. Jeff puts women on pedestals, so he adapts fairly well, once he realizes that the women don't need his protection. But Terry agrees with Wyndham that women need to be mastered. The three men find brides among the Herlanders, but Terry's marriage is very unhappy, culminating in attempted marital rape.
For 2000 years, the women have been reproducing through parthenogenesis. They're aware of sexual intercourse because of the animals they breed (Gilman is amusing about cats), but it's not part of their own lives. When Elladora, Celis, and Alima get married, the whole nation is excited about the possibility of Fatherhood. But sex is only seen as for reproduction, in a land where Motherhood is central. This leads to difficulties even for the more understanding Van. (Jeff and Celis soon decide to have a child.)
It's interesting to see what Gilman imagines a country without men would be like: peaceful, crime-free, clean, well-fed, well-educated, and generally well-run. There are also of course none of the limiting gender stereotypes, for men or women, that plagued her time. However, how utopian is this utopia? Besides the lack of sex (including lesbianism), it's a world where only women who are good enough, as defined by society, can have a child, with a few rare women ("Over Mothers") being allowed more than one. Yet motherhood, in the sense of childbirth, is seen as the great act of a woman's life. On the other hand, most women don't raise their children themselves, because that would be like, as Gilman says, practicing dentistry on your family when you don't have the training.
As utopias go, sure, I'd rather live here than in More's, although not as much as Oz. At least I'd be able to have an interesting job and lots of friends, without having to confess my "sins" to my husband, as in More's land. In Oz, I'd have to live where Ozma told me to, but I'd otherwise have some measure of freedom, and be surrounded by magic. Ironically, magic aside, I think Oz is the most plausible utopia, or dystopia, I've examined so far. Herland, in its isolation, with "savages" as the nearest neighbors, most resembles Erewhon.
This is a very dated novella but I think it'll be interesting to look back on when I get up to my "radical feminist" books of the 1970s. And it's not a bad little story, without the dull patches of Erewhon, although none of the hm moments of that novel.
Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Herland
B-
Three modern men of various types, not unlike the suitors in A Mischievous Rudiment, discover a land populated solely by women. Narrator Van is quietly realistic, while Jeff is chivalrous and Terry is macho. Van is a sociologist, so he's particularly interested in how this society works. Jeff puts women on pedestals, so he adapts fairly well, once he realizes that the women don't need his protection. But Terry agrees with Wyndham that women need to be mastered. The three men find brides among the Herlanders, but Terry's marriage is very unhappy, culminating in attempted marital rape.
For 2000 years, the women have been reproducing through parthenogenesis. They're aware of sexual intercourse because of the animals they breed (Gilman is amusing about cats), but it's not part of their own lives. When Elladora, Celis, and Alima get married, the whole nation is excited about the possibility of Fatherhood. But sex is only seen as for reproduction, in a land where Motherhood is central. This leads to difficulties even for the more understanding Van. (Jeff and Celis soon decide to have a child.)
It's interesting to see what Gilman imagines a country without men would be like: peaceful, crime-free, clean, well-fed, well-educated, and generally well-run. There are also of course none of the limiting gender stereotypes, for men or women, that plagued her time. However, how utopian is this utopia? Besides the lack of sex (including lesbianism), it's a world where only women who are good enough, as defined by society, can have a child, with a few rare women ("Over Mothers") being allowed more than one. Yet motherhood, in the sense of childbirth, is seen as the great act of a woman's life. On the other hand, most women don't raise their children themselves, because that would be like, as Gilman says, practicing dentistry on your family when you don't have the training.
As utopias go, sure, I'd rather live here than in More's, although not as much as Oz. At least I'd be able to have an interesting job and lots of friends, without having to confess my "sins" to my husband, as in More's land. In Oz, I'd have to live where Ozma told me to, but I'd otherwise have some measure of freedom, and be surrounded by magic. Ironically, magic aside, I think Oz is the most plausible utopia, or dystopia, I've examined so far. Herland, in its isolation, with "savages" as the nearest neighbors, most resembles Erewhon.
This is a very dated novella but I think it'll be interesting to look back on when I get up to my "radical feminist" books of the 1970s. And it's not a bad little story, without the dull patches of Erewhon, although none of the hm moments of that novel.
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.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Looking Backward
1888, 1960 Signet Classic edition
Edward Bellamy
Looking Backward: 2000-1887
Original price $1.95, bought used for $1.50
Frayed paperback
C+
This was one of the most influential books of its time, although it's less well known now. I liked it less on this reading than I remembered, although I am still amused that Bellamy sort of predicted radio (including radio preachers) and some aspects of modern shopping. In Bellamy's 21st-century world, money has been abolished and people live on credit cards, often ordering warehouse purchases that are delivered later, but this is all for very different reasons than in the real 21st century. The introduction by Erich Fromm points out that Bellamy couldn't have predicted what would happen with both capitalism and socialism, or the dangers of a society run by managers, and of course Fromm didn't know what changes the next half century would bring. (There's also a reference to contemporary "visions of travel to the moon" that would date itself before the end of the 1960s.)
For my post on More's Utopia, I pointed out that that world wasn't very "utopian," and I doubt More meant it to be ideal. Bellamy really seemed to think that his is the best possible world. However, despite Fromm's belief that Bellamy shows "complete equality of the sexes," that's not what I see. Women's roles are almost an after-thought, and I have no idea what Mrs. and Miss Leete's careers are. (Dr. Leete is a retired medical doctor.) Apparently, Bellamy addressed women's rights in the sequel, Equality (1897).
Bellamy does not at any time, however, seem to have thought it odd that this is a world without democracy. The Presidents rise from the ranks and are chosen in a manner sort of like a republic. Now admittedly, compared to the political corruption of his day, this might've been an improvement. But again, I can't believe that Bellamy's imagined society is the best that anyone could come up with even at the time. I also find the way the "bloodless revolution" happens, through common sense and inevitability, a bit sketchy. Still, he meant well, and if you can get past these issues, and the somewhat bland characterizations, this book might be worth a read.
Edward Bellamy
Looking Backward: 2000-1887
Original price $1.95, bought used for $1.50
Frayed paperback
C+
This was one of the most influential books of its time, although it's less well known now. I liked it less on this reading than I remembered, although I am still amused that Bellamy sort of predicted radio (including radio preachers) and some aspects of modern shopping. In Bellamy's 21st-century world, money has been abolished and people live on credit cards, often ordering warehouse purchases that are delivered later, but this is all for very different reasons than in the real 21st century. The introduction by Erich Fromm points out that Bellamy couldn't have predicted what would happen with both capitalism and socialism, or the dangers of a society run by managers, and of course Fromm didn't know what changes the next half century would bring. (There's also a reference to contemporary "visions of travel to the moon" that would date itself before the end of the 1960s.)
For my post on More's Utopia, I pointed out that that world wasn't very "utopian," and I doubt More meant it to be ideal. Bellamy really seemed to think that his is the best possible world. However, despite Fromm's belief that Bellamy shows "complete equality of the sexes," that's not what I see. Women's roles are almost an after-thought, and I have no idea what Mrs. and Miss Leete's careers are. (Dr. Leete is a retired medical doctor.) Apparently, Bellamy addressed women's rights in the sequel, Equality (1897).
Bellamy does not at any time, however, seem to have thought it odd that this is a world without democracy. The Presidents rise from the ranks and are chosen in a manner sort of like a republic. Now admittedly, compared to the political corruption of his day, this might've been an improvement. But again, I can't believe that Bellamy's imagined society is the best that anyone could come up with even at the time. I also find the way the "bloodless revolution" happens, through common sense and inevitability, a bit sketchy. Still, he meant well, and if you can get past these issues, and the somewhat bland characterizations, this book might be worth a read.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Utopia
1515, Norton edition 1975
Sir Thomas More, Latin translated by Robert M. Adams
Utopia
Original price not shown, bought used for $3.50
Surprisingly good condition
C+
The two main things you have to know about Utopia are is it's not Utopian in the usual sense, since it's not a place most people would want to live, and it's more of a criticism of early Renaissance culture and politics than it is any kind of a blueprint for a society. Why does every city in Utopia have to have roughly the same number of households and why does every household have to have roughly the same number of adults? Why is discussing politics considered treasonous? Why, outside of a 1980s TV-movie starring John Ritter and Penny Marshall, would the two "injured parties" in adultery want to marry each other? Gulliver's Travels is a better satire (funnier and more cutting), while Looking Backward is a more pleasant alternative society. But as the book that invented the genre (at least for "modern" readers, ignoring the ancient Greeks and all), this isn't a bad start.
Sir Thomas More, Latin translated by Robert M. Adams
Utopia
Original price not shown, bought used for $3.50
Surprisingly good condition
C+
The two main things you have to know about Utopia are is it's not Utopian in the usual sense, since it's not a place most people would want to live, and it's more of a criticism of early Renaissance culture and politics than it is any kind of a blueprint for a society. Why does every city in Utopia have to have roughly the same number of households and why does every household have to have roughly the same number of adults? Why is discussing politics considered treasonous? Why, outside of a 1980s TV-movie starring John Ritter and Penny Marshall, would the two "injured parties" in adultery want to marry each other? Gulliver's Travels is a better satire (funnier and more cutting), while Looking Backward is a more pleasant alternative society. But as the book that invented the genre (at least for "modern" readers, ignoring the ancient Greeks and all), this isn't a bad start.
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