[Publisher's Note: This is the second installment of the new R&BLers series, "My Reading Life," that appears Sundays late-night. If you'd like to write a diary for this series, please leave a comment in the thread. Thanks!]
(I originally posted this on Street Prophets a couple years ago. I'm re-posting it here with an edit or two; because what the hey, we lib'ruls are all about recycling. -- quark)
Whenever my wife drags me to one of the local thrift stores, I always spend some time browsing through their used book racks; and very often I come across a treasure or two. Once, while picking out copies of Gaston Leroux’s The Phantom of the Opera and Tom Swift and his Giant Robot, I found L. Frank Baum’s The Land of Oz.
I’d been looking for this book for some time. Years ago I had bought Ozma of Oz from a school book order, assuming that it was a sequel to The Wonderful Wizard Of. Well, it was, but I discovered that there was another book between the two that I was missing. The Land of Oz was that book. At last, I could read the full account of General Jinjur and her All-Girl Army; of the history of Mr. H.M. Woggle-Bug, T.E.; and the weird childhood of Princess Ozma.
As I read it, I realized something that hadn’t occurred to me before. The Oz books are not just fanciful stories about strange and wonderful creatures; they are also about encountering different points of view, about agreeing to disagree and about testing your opinions against the opinions of others.
At every turn of the plot, the characters take time to muse on their situation and weigh it in the scales of their personal values. When the Woggle-Bug, an insect magnified to human size by a classroom demonstration gone wrong, explains how a tailor made a suit of clothes for him, the Scarecrow, who values brains, comments on how clever the tailor must have been; the Tin Woodsman counters that the tailor must have had a charitable heart. Each character has his own point of view and his own idée fix. The self-important Woggle-Bug believes that learning is the greatest virtue and considers himself “Thoroughly Educated.” Simple Jack Pumpkinhead knows that his pumpkin will grow old and spoil eventually and frets about his own mortality. The Gump, a patchwork creature assembled out of old furniture and a moose head and brought to life through magic, complains that he didn’t ask to be born in such an awkward and inconvenient form.
Even characters opposed to the heroes, such as General Jinjur who seizes the throne of Oz and deposes the Scarecrow, are allowed to have their point of view. She may be a silly lampoon of the suffragettes of Baum’s day, but she is permitted to argue her case according to her own logic.
Every once in a while, the story throws out a moral conundrum. When the Scarecrow escapes from Jinjur, he goes to Glinda the Good Witch for help. But instead of condemning this female upstart with her foolish notions of female superiority, Glinda unexpectedly asks the Scarecrow if his own claim on the throne is any better than Jinjur’s. Glinda goes on to explain that the Wizard, who gave the throne to the Scarecrow, had originally usurped power from a previous king. The idea of the kindly Wizard being involved in a political coup is kind of shocking. I mean, we know he was a humbug, but a political pretender as well? And if the Wizard had not rightful claim to the throne, then who deserves to rule Oz?
In the end, order is restored and the Scarecrow abdicates in favor of the Rightful Ruler, but not without some earnest philosophical discussions. They may not be deep; this is a children’s book after all; but then again, neither does Baum shy away from these questions because of his audience, nor does he necessarily lay out moralistic answers to them.
L. Frank Baum always intended with his children’s books to create a purely American genre of fairy tales. In some respects, I think he succeeded; but he didn’t just create imaginative characters or inventive settings; he populated his fantasy worlds with thinking creatures who pondered their own existence and discussed their ideas with others.
Not bad for a children’s book nearly a century old.