Reading Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz Aloud to My Son

Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz by L. Frank Baum, illustrated by John R. Neill

I recollect that this was one of my favorite Oz books as a kid. I don't think it's a coincidence that it was just one of two that I owned as a Dover edition. The Dover editions aren't facsimiles to the extent that the Books of Wonder ones are—they are trade paperbacks, they have no end papers, the color plates are in black and white. But the book is reproduced at its original size, with all of its interior illustrations intact, meaning that this was one of my best examples of the artistry of John R. Neill, and thus the book was brought to life in my imagination. (This meant I didn't use this reread as an excuse to upgrade my copy; the Dover is good enough for my purposes that I felt the expense was not justified... though that does mean that if I keep going, I will have the Books of Wonder facsimiles of all but two of Baum's original fourteen novels, which will niggle at me.)

Originally published: 1908
Acquired: ???
Read aloud: August–September 2021

It's a dark story, something the Shanower & Young comic adaptation brought out to good success. Unlike other Oz books, where our hero makes friends as they travel, Dorothy never really does; the people who are with her from the beginning (Eureka the Kitten, her cousin's cousin Zeb, Jim the Cab-Horse, and later, the Wizard) are the only people who journey with her. The lands they travel through have little respite for them: vegetable people who cannot feel sympathy, a valley of invisible bears who can slaughter you at any moment, the wooden gargoyles who don't speak a word, the dragonettes who would eat you if only they could. The best our heroes can hope for is indifference, such as they receive from the Braided Man. My favorite part this time though was a small one; as the adventuring party climbs a subterranean mountain, they look out on a strange sea and strange sky... and it's utterly indifferent to them. Insignificance is the best they can hope for beneath the surface of the Earth.

I didn't find it disturbing as a kid, I don't think, and Son One didn't either as far as I could tell. Baum as always never dwells on this kind of stuff, and treats it all completely matter-of-factly. Our heroes are a little more callous than usual (the Wizard kills pretty easily), but they are in a callous world. Like in Wonderful Wizard of Oz and Ozma, one of the pleasures is the group of dynamic characters, all of whom contribute to saving the day in their own way at various times. I have seen commenters complain about Eureka and say Baum must not have like cats... but to me, Baum just captures what it is to be a cat, something he always excels at with his talking animal characters. Yes, she's selfish and annoying, but that's what makes her fun. The jokes at the trial of Eureka went over my son's head, but I enjoyed them. Indeed, this one was a pleasure to read throughout. It's dark, but it's also some of Baum's most imaginative work, with good tension despite the fact that it's a pretty linear journey. I like the handling of the Wizard here, and there's something moving about him being given a place in Oz at the book's end... even if does require Baum to ignore some of the basic facts he establishes in Marvelous Land about the Wizard, Mombi, Ozma, and Ozma's father! The backstory of Oz being divided between four wicked witches is a tantalizing one, though.

The main problem, of course, is the frankly stupid way Dorothy gets out of the subterranean world. At the end of Ozma, Ozma told Dorothy she'd look for her in the Magic Picture once a week, and magic her to Oz via the Magic Belt if she made a sign was in trouble. Here, we are told Ozma looks in the Magic Picture once per day.... but somehow Dorothy doesn't think to signal Ozma until two-thirds of the way into the book! It's a move that utterly destroys the tension, and makes Dorothy look like an idiot to boot. (Not that my son noticed.) But if you keep on reading, it's easy enough to ignore.