This is the 14th book in the Oz canon, and the last book written by L. Frank Baum before his death. It was published posthumously in 1920. (L. Frank Baum died in 1919.)
My History with this Book
I think my sister had a copy of this book way back when we were kids. I never read it at that time, but I do have a memory of reading the back cover and the publisher's introduction, which talked about how this was the last Oz book L. Frank Baum ever wrote, and that it was darker than the others because it was influenced by L. Frank Baum's declining health, and also the events of World War I.
In the years since, I think I've stumbled upon a couple other summaries of this book which also made references to the World War I allegory. So, I was fully expecting this book to be a lot more deep than the other Oz books.
These high expectations were a mistake. This book is every bit as silly as all the other Oz books that L. Frank Baum wrote.
My Reading Journey
I've been doing these Oz books as a buddy read with Dane Cobain, but I've fallen way behind schedule. The original plan was to do one Oz book every 2 weeks. These Oz books are very short and light, so this was in theory quite doable, even for a slow reader like me. But after keeping on the schedule for the first several books, I eventually fell off the schedule this spring. A combination of factors: my second child being born, and a corresponding drop in my free time. Plus, the covid lockdown in Vietnam came to an end, so I started to travel back to in-person work again. And the book I was reading these Oz stories out of, The Complete Stories of Oz, was way too big and bulky to take with me to work every day. (And since the second child was born, lunch break at work is now where I get all of my reading done.)
That, plus... I think I was just getting sick of these Oz stories after a while. In my opinion, L. Frank Baum lost his magic touch a long time ago, and he's just going through the motions by this point in the series. It was not captivating reading, and I was subsequently easily distracted from it.
I finished the 13th book in this series, The Magic of Oz, and reviewed it on June 23, 2022. I procrastinated a couple weeks before starting this final book in the series, but finally got around to starting this book back on July 6. I inched along - with - slow - progress for a few weeks, but then got busy again and stopped reading this book.
(Also, come to think of it, I suppose my new comic book review project also slowed down my progress on Glinda of Oz, since I primarily read those comic books in my few minutes of free time before bed--what would otherwise have been time to chip away at the Oz books.)
But then October came around, and I realized how quickly time was getting away from me. I also worried that if I didn't force myself to come back to Glinda of Oz soon, I would be in danger of just drifting away from the book, and never coming back to it.
Once I finished The Wayfarer Redemption, I decided I was going to turn all my attention on finishing Glinda of Oz next. I brought The Complete Stories of Ozwith me to work for a couple of days, but was immediately reminded of why I had decided not to bring it to work. It was much to big and unwieldy for me to read casually while I was in the sandwich line.
It strikes me now, reading over what I have just written, that this is all sounding a bit ridiculous. These Oz books are so short and light, I really am making way too big of a deal about the struggle to finish an 87 page children's book. But I'm a slow reader who quite often only managers about 30 pages a week, and I just lost motivation to finish the last 50 pages.
(If you buy the original edition of this book, with the larger print and all the illustrations, then it's actually 279 pages--according to Wikipedia. But it's 87 pages in The Complete Stories of Ozedition.)
Since I had taken a couple month break in the middle of this book, after finally finishing it up, I listened to the audiobook of it in order to refresh my memory before writing this review. (The free librivox version of this audiobook is on Youtube HERE.)
For example, one of the reoccurring inconsistencies in these Oz books is that Ozma is established to be the ruler of all of Oz. And yet, almost every Oz book contains some sort of independent kingdom inside of the Land of Oz that has never heard of Ozma, and does not recognize her authority.
To be fair, I suppose L. Frank Baum kind of had to do this. Once he had established Ozma as the ruler of all of Oz, he had written himself into a corner. How could there be any narrative drama if every Oz story was just about Ozma peacefully ruling over Oz? And so, by necessity, every Oz story now has to contain some sort of independent little kingdom deep inside Oz that has never heard of the rest of Oz. But it does still beg the question: what kind of ruler is Ozma anyway? How can she possibly claim to be ruler of Oz when it seems that most of Oz doesn't even know who she is or recognize her authority?
Anyway... in this particular story, Ozma and Dorothy discover (via Glinda's magic book) that there are two independent kingdoms deep in the land of Oz who have never heard of Ozma and are planning to go to war with each other. And then once they find out these kingdoms are about to go to war, Ozma decides that they must journey to stop them. After all, Ozma is still their ruler, even if they have no idea who she is.
As Ozma herself says:
"I am Ruler of all the Land of Oz, which includes the Gillikin Country, the Quadling Country, the Winkie Country and the Munchkin Country, as well as the Emerald City, and being the Princess of this fairyland it is my duty to make all my people—wherever they may be—happy and content and to settle their disputes and keep them from quarreling. So, while the Skeezers and Flatheads may not know me or that I am their lawful Ruler, I now know that they inhabit my kingdom and are my subjects, so I would not be doing my duty if I kept away from them and allowed them to fight." (p.1402, in my edition)
So, Dorothy and Ozma journey to the land of the Skeezers and the Flatheads to try to stop the war.
All of L. Frank Baum's Oz stories are, one way or another, journey stories. Journey from point A on the map to point B on the map, and encounter some strange things along the way. And so it is with this story. Dorothy and Ozma journey along and encounter along the way the kingdom of the giant spiders (yet another kingdom inside Oz which has never heard of Ozma and doesn't recognize her authority) and then the land of the Mist Maidens, before finally arriving at the lands of the Skeezers and the Flatheads.
After failing to negotiate a truce between the two kingdoms, Dorothy and Ozma travel to the domed island city of the Skeezers, where they are imprisoned by the queen of the Skeezers, who (you guessed it) doesn't recognize Ozma's authority.
It then turns out that the domed city of the Skeezers can submerge itself under the water, to protect themselves against the flatheads. Which they do. But now Dorothy and Ozma are trapped in the domed city under the water.
Once word gets back to the emerald city that Dorothy and Ozma are in trouble, Glinda and the Wizard of Oz come to their rescue. And they bring along with them practically every other Oz character from all the previous books. There's the Tinman, the scarecrow, the Patchwork Girl, the Shaggy Man, Tik-Tok, Jack Pumpkinhead, Cap'n Bill, the Wogglebug, the Frogman, Uncle Henry, the glass cat, Betsy, Trot, Ojo, Button Bright and the Cowardly Lion.
Okay, so that's not quite all the Oz characters. L. Frank Baum has by this point in his continuity established a huge cast of supporting characters. (There's no Hungry Tiger, Billina the Hen, Eureka the Kitten, Woot the Wanderer, etc). But it is still a lot of characters to juggle on this journey.
And sure enough, L. Frank Baum doesn't quite know what to do with all these characters. Most of them are given nothing to do on the journey.
Anyway, the rescue party arrives. Most of them do absolutely nothing, but the key bits of magic are worked out by Glinda of Oz and the Wizard of Oz. And Dorothy and Ozma are saved. The end.
Like a lot of the commentary around this book, Mari Ness leans heavily into the World War I allegory interpretation. To quote from the opening of her review:
Glinda of Oz, L. Frank Baum’s last Oz book, was written during World War I and published posthumously shortly after its end. Perhaps influenced by that conflict, it focuses on the dangers of technology, with a great domed city that can be both protection and trap, and the limitations of magic and magical assistance. Further echoes of that conflict may be seen in the use of submarines to wage war, the appearance of firearms (in earlier books, characters disliked guns since they could go off by mistake and scare people), unhinged leaders dragging their peaceful subjects into unwanted wars, and futile peace missions where neither side is particularly interested in peace.
I'm not sure I entirely agree that this book is a World War I allegory, but I'll get to my own views in the next section.
On the whole , though, I really liked Mari Ness's review. And she does a good job of pointing out a lot of the inconsistencies in this book, even though she mostly does so from an affectionate standpoint.
And as mentioned above, I'm doing this series as a buddy read with Dane Cobain. His written review is here:
Perhaps the most interesting thing about this one is that while the story itself might not have been the best out of all of the Oz books, it did have some of the best life advice for young readers. That’s kind of fitting because of the fact that it’s the last of the books that Baum wrote in the series. It’s as though it’s his swan song featuring his last bits of wisdom that he wants to remember.
The life advice Dane is referring to comes from a conversation between Ozma and Dorothy in chapter 4:
Dorothy, resting herself at her fairy friend's command, and eating her dinner with unusual enjoyment, thought of the wonders of magic. If one were a fairy and knew the secret laws of nature and the mystic words and ceremonies that commanded those laws, then a simple wave of a silver wand would produce instantly all that men work hard and anxiously for through weary years. And Dorothy wished in her kindly, innocent heart, that all men and women could be fairies with silver wands, and satisfy all their needs without so much work and worry, for then, she imagined, they would have all their working hours to be happy in. But Ozma, looking into her friend's face and reading those thoughts, gave a laugh and said:
"No, no, Dorothy, that wouldn't do at all. Instead of happiness your plan would bring weariness to the world. If every one could wave a wand and have his wants fulfilled there would be little to wish for. There would be no eager striving to obtain the difficult, for nothing would then be difficult, and the pleasure of earning something longed for, and only to be secured by hard work and careful thought, would be utterly lost. There would be nothing to do, you see, and no interest in life and in our fellow creatures. That is all that makes life worth our while—to do good deeds and to help those less fortunate than ourselves."
Although... if we jump back to Mari Ness's review, Mari Ness points out that Ozma's moralizing is undercut by the fact that all the Oz main characters are living a life of idle play at Ozma's palace in the Emerald City.
Oh well. I agree with Dane that the message is good in theory, at least.
I'm beginning to think that this book gets too much credit for being a World War I allegory. To me, much of this book just seems like L. Frank Baum recycling plots again.
We've already seen the plot about two separate nations in Oz be on the verge of war--that was the Hoppers and the Horners in The Patchwork Girl of Oz.
And we've already seen the plot about how a dictator is able to rule over the people of his kingdom by deceiving them and making them think they are all equal. This was the High Coco-Lorum in the land of Thi in The Lost Princess of Oz.
So, for the most part, this book did not get a "Wow, isn't it so deep the way L. Frank Baum is commenting on World War I" reaction from me.
Instead, it got a "Yawn. L. Frank Baum is out of ideas, and recycling plot points again" reaction from me.
I don't know... maybe it's also supposed to be an allegory for World War I. (I can't claim to know what is in L. Frank Baum's head.) But the shallowness of it all left me unimpressed.
Of course, it's always unfair to judge an Oz book by its plot. The plot is always paper-thin in all these books, and serves merely as a device for the characters to go to strange and bizarre lands.
But in this book, the imagination is not on par with the other Oz books. The lands that the characters travel to are distinctly uninteresting. The Kingdom of the Giant Spiders is just a bunch of spiders, and is not developed. The land of the Flatheads is uninteresting.
The domed city of the Skeezers is kind of interesting at first. As Mari Ness points out, it's kind of a science fiction element introduced into the land of Oz, which is a first. The domed city is able to rise and lower itself by means of mechanical gears. Now, all these gears are controlled by magic, so L. Frank Baum is still firmly in the world of fairly tales. But still, the concept has got at least somewhat of a Jules Verne vibe going on.
But on the whole, I was underwhelmed.
In chapters 18 and 19, there's a little narrative discursion into a subplot about Ervic the Skeezer who has to trick Reera the Red the Yookoohoo into transforming the 3 Magical Adepts back into their original form. Reera the Red tries to scare Ervic away, but through patience and cunning, Ervic eventually tricks Reera the Red into transforming the Adepts back into their original forms. My little summary here probably isn't doing it justice, but the whole episode reads like a tale straight out of The Brothers Grimm. Since L. Frank Baum was consciously trying to imitate the style of the Grimm Brothers in his Oz stories (W), I suppose you have to give him credit where credit is due here. He did succeed in what he was trying to do.
...except I thought it was a bit odd that this whole episode focused on Ervic the Skeezer, who came into the narrative out of nowhere, and didn't seem to have any introduction or personality. And it was especially odd when this is happening in an Oz story in which L. Frank Baum is already juggling too many returning characters that he doesn't know what to do with. Why not have just given this role to one of the many characters L. Frank Baum already has along on the journey?
The ending of the book was very rushed. L. Frank Baum just wraps up all the remaining plot threads in a few rushed paragraphs. Although perhaps that's just as well. (There's no point in dragging out the ending in a book like this.)
Other Odds and Ends
* At this point in the Oz series, I suppose it's probably a little bit silly to keep complaining about the inconsistencies. There are plenty of inconsistencies in this book, but is it even worth bringing them up? The magic belt, for instance. Who does it belong to now, Dorothy or Ozma? What can it do and what can't it do?
And all the magic in this book seems very confused. Despite the fact that it's repeatedly established that Ozma has outlawed magic in Oz, there are way too many magical creatures in this book who have a lot of magical powers that aren't clearly defined.
To be fair, no one actually dies in this book. But the threat of death seems real. In the wild Gillikin country, for example, there is the threat of being eaten by the ferocious animals. And then in the lake surrounding the city of the Skeezers, it's mentioned multiple times that the fish are in danger of being poisoned or eaten.
Extended Quotation
When night fell all the interior of the Great Dome, streets and houses, became lighted with brilliant incandescent lamps, which rendered it bright as day. Dorothy thought the island must look beautiful by night from the outer shore of the lake. There was revelry and feasting in the Queen's palace, and the music of the royal band could be plainly heard in Lady Aurex's house, where Ozma and Dorothy remained with their hostess and keeper. They were prisoners, but treated with much consideration.
Lady Aurex gave them a nice supper and when they wished to retire showed them to a pretty room with comfortable beds and wished them a good night and pleasant dreams.
"What do you think of all this, Ozma?" Dorothy anxiously inquired when they were alone.
"I am glad we came," was the reply, "for although there may be mischief done to-morrow, it was necessary I should know about these people, whose leaders are wild and lawless and oppress their subjects with injustice and cruelties. My task, therefore, is to liberate the Skeezers and the Flatheads and secure for them freedom and happiness. I have no doubt I can accomplish this in time."
"Just now, though, we're in a bad fix," asserted Dorothy. "If Queen Coo-ee-oh conquers to-morrow, she won't be nice to us, and if the Su-dic conquers, he'll be worse."
"Do not worry, dear," said Ozma, "I do not think we are in danger, whatever happens, and the result of our adventure is sure to be good."
Dorothy was not worrying, especially. She had confidence in her friend, the fairy Princess of Oz, and she enjoyed the excitement of the events in which she was taking part. So she crept into bed and fell asleep as easily as if she had been in her own cosy room in Ozma's palace.
A sort of grating, grinding sound awakened her. The whole island seemed to tremble and sway, as it might do in an earthquake. Dorothy sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes to get the sleep out of them, and then found it was daybreak.
Ozma was hurriedly dressing herself.
"What is it?" asked Dorothy, jumping out of bed.
"I'm not sure," answered Ozma "but it feels as if the island is sinking."
As soon as possible they finished dressing, while the creaking and swaying continued. Then they rushed into the living room of the house and found Lady Aurex, fully dressed, awaiting them.
"Do not be alarmed," said their hostess. "Coo-ee-oh has decided to submerge the island, that is all. But it proves the Flatheads are coming to attack us."
"What do you mean by sub-sub-merging the island?" asked Dorothy.
"Come here and see," was the reply.
Lady Aurex led them to a window which faced the side of the great dome which covered all the village, and they could see that the island was indeed sinking, for the water of the lake was already half way up the side of the dome. Through the glass could be seen swimming fishes, and tall stalks of swaying seaweeds, for the water was clear as crystal and through it they could distinguish even the farther shore of the lake.
"The Flatheads are not here yet," said Lady Aurex. "They will come soon, but not until all of this dome is under the surface of the water."
"Won't the dome leak?" Dorothy inquired anxiously.
"No, indeed."
"Was the island ever sub-sub-sunk before?"
"Oh, yes; on several occasions. But Coo-ee-oh doesn't care to do that often, for it requires a lot of hard work to operate the machinery. The dome was built so that the island could disappear. I think," she continued, "that our Queen fears the Flatheads will attack the island and try to break the glass of the dome."
"Well, if we're under water, they can't fight us, and we can't fight them," asserted Dorothy.
"They could kill the fishes, however," said Ozma gravely. (End Quote. From Chapter 10)
[I've been complaining about this book a lot, but in an effort to be fair, I thought I would use the extended quotation section to highlight what I thought was one of the cooler scenes of the book--the whole domed city sinking into the water. I thought that this scene was fun to imagine. Although, I also can't resist pointing out that that last line by Ozma is once again contradicting Baum's "no one can die in Oz" policy.]
Originally published in 1919, this is the 13th book in the Oz series written by L. Frank Baum. It is also the second to the last Oz book that L. Frank Baum wrote before he died. (Although Baum would die before this book hit the shelves--Baum died in May, 1919, and this book was published in June.)
Summary of the Plot
L. Frank Baum is once again recycling plots from previous books. (Yet another sign that he had run out of ideas for his Oz series, but that he still needed the money.)
It's Ozma's birthday, and everyone is concerned with the preparations. Then, at the end, there's a grand party, and all the Oz characters make a brief cameo. This is the same plot that we saw before in book number 5: The Road to Oz. While this is going on, the evil Nome King is plotting to take over the land of Oz, but he is ultimately defeated by drinking from the fountain of oblivion. Again, we saw this same plot before in book 6: The Emerald City of Oz.
Links
I am once again relying on the analysis of Mari Ness at Tor.com . Her review is titled: Boredom in Fairyland: The Magic of Oz. You may get a sense of her opinion just from that title. But if there's any doubt, you can read her introduction.
So Ozma is having a birthday again. Yawn. And the various adopted citizens and hangers-on at the palace don’t know what to get her. Yawn. And an old enemy of Oz reappears. Yawn. Yawn. Have we reached the end yet?
Magic of Oz, the thirteenth book in Baum’s Oz series, is, above all, a tired book. Very little new happens. Glinda sets a group of young girls to weaving and sewing a gown formed from silk spun from softened emeralds. Trot, Cap’n Bill and the Glass Cat figure an ever changing magical plant will do the trick. Dorothy and the Wizard, cudgeling their brains together, come up with…performing monkeys. It’s even drearier than it sounds.
She eventually ends the review by saying:
With most authors, a book of this sort would be a clear sign to give up and move on. But Baum had one more Oz book left in him.
Ouch!
I'm also doing this book as a buddy read with Dane Cobain. He was a bit more kind to this book. His written review is HERE:
This book was just okay, and that’s pretty much all I have to say about it. Unfortunately, because I’ve left it a little while before getting to my review of this one and because I’ve also read another Oz book in the interim, I can’t really remember the details.
I can remember how it made me feel though, and in general it was a decent enough entry into the Oz series. Baum hit a bit of a bad patch with a few of the books before this one where it felt as though he was just churning out books because he had to, which is supported by the fact that he basically needed the money.
All in all, this was alright, but nowhere near as good as some of the others in the series. So there’s that.
Mari Ness isn't necessarily wrong. The plot of this book is pretty underwhelming.
Ozma having a birthday party is a pretty lame plot. It was pretty lame the first time around inThe Road to Oz, so it's an odd choice to recycle this underwhelming plot point.
The Nome King's attempts to take over the Land of Oz (a recycled plot from The Emerald City of Oz) could, in theory, lead to a dramatic climax. (Picture it in your head: an epic battle! All the forces of evil lined up on one side. All the characters of Oz lined up on the other side. They meet in a battle charge! Picture it like the scenes from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, or The Return of the King).
Except, in both books, the Nome King never actually gets that far. We spend a lot of time watching him bumbling around, and then he is defeated (both times!) by the Fountain of Oblivion.
What makes the Fountain of Oblivion plot point particularly irritating is that it was supposed make the Nome King forget everything and render him harmless the first time he drank it in book 6. That later got retconned in book 8, where it appeared that the Nome King could remember everything after all.
Okay, fair enough. L. Frank Baum has a lax approach to continuity, and likes to retcon things. I've learned to accept that by this point in the series. But then, after having retconned that plot point, to reintroduce the Fountain of Oblivion as a plot device a second time to resolve the exact same plot point as before? That is really pushing things! I've been forgiving a lot as I've been reading this series, but there is only so much lazy writing I can put up with.
But, in spite of all my complaining, I actually didn't completely hate this book. It's got enough of a manic imaginative energy to it that I found it mostly entertaining, in spite of all its flaws. I'll try to illustrate some of this with a quotation below:
There had been trouble in the Forest of Gugu that morning. Chipo the Wild Boar had bitten the tail off Arx the Giraffe while the latter had his head among the leaves of a tree, eating his breakfast. Arx kicked with his heels and struck Tirrip, the great Kangaroo, who had a new baby in her pouch. Tirrip knew it was the Wild Boar’s fault, so she knocked him over with one powerful blow and then ran away to escape Chipo’s sharp tusks. In the chase that followed a giant porcupine stuck fifty sharp quills into the Boar and a chimpanzee in a tree threw a cocoanut at the porcupine that jammed its head into its body.
All this was against the Laws of the Forest, and when the excitement was over, Gugu the Leopard King called his royal Counselors together to decide how best to punish the offenders.
The four lords of the forest were holding solemn council in a small clearing when they saw two strange beasts approaching them—beasts the like of which they had never seen before.
Not one of the four, however, relaxed his dignity or showed by a movement that he was startled. The great Leopard crouched at full length upon a fallen tree-trunk. Bru the Bear sat on his haunches before the King; Rango the Gray Ape stood with his muscular arms folded, and Loo the Unicorn reclined, much as a horse does, between his fellow-councillors. With one consent they remained silent, eyeing with steadfast looks the intruders, who were making their way into their forest domain.
“Well met, Brothers!” said one of the strange beasts, coming to a halt beside the group, while his comrade with hesitation lagged behind.
“We are not brothers,” returned the Gray Ape, sternly. “Who are you, and how came you in the forest of Gugu?”
“We are two Li-Mon-Eags,” said Ruggedo, inventing the name. “Our home is in Sky Island, and we have come to earth to warn the forest beasts that the people of Oz are about to make war upon them and enslave them, so that they will become beasts of burden forever after and obey only the will of their two-legged masters.”
A low roar of anger arose from the Council of Beasts.
“Who’s going to do that?” asked Loo the Unicorn, in a high, squeaky voice, at the same time rising to his feet.
“The people of Oz,” said Ruggedo.
“But what will we be doing?” inquired the Unicorn.
“That’s what I’ve come to talk to you about.”
“You needn’t talk! We’ll fight the Oz people!” screamed the Unicorn. “We’ll smash ’em; we’ll trample ’em; we’ll gore ’em; we’ll—”
“Silence!” growled Gugu the King, and Loo obeyed, although still trembling with wrath. The cold, steady gaze of the Leopard wandered over the two strange beasts. “The people of Oz,” said he, “have not been our friends; they have not been our enemies. They have let us alone, and we have let them alone. There is no reason for war between us. They have no slaves. They could not use us as slaves if they should conquer us. I think you are telling us lies, you strange Li-Mon-Eag—you mixed-up beast who are neither one thing nor another.”
***END QUOTE*** The scene actually goes on for a couple more pages, but you get the idea.
In one sense, this is terrible writing. L. Frank Baum is writing here like either he's on a caffeine high, or like he's sleep deprived and is just putting whatever comes into his head to fill up his word count.
But, on the other hand, there's a kind of fascination here with this bizarre Loony-Tunes world. I mean, a crazy forest where the animals are constantly getting into shenanigans? Ruled by a Jaguar King who is being advised by a paranoid maniac unicorn? Yeah, sure, I can stick around to see where this is going.
Odds and Ends
* This is yet another Oz book in which L. Frank Baum worked in some brief tie-ins with some of his previous fantasy books. (Queen Zixi of Ix, John Dough and the Cherub). So yet another reason why the series really should be called "The Expanded Universe of Oz".
* The idea that no one can die in the Land of Oz has proven to be one of L. Frank Baum's worst ideas. He can't keep it consistent, and he doesn't know how to introduce any kind of danger without breaking his own rules.
Originally published in 1918, this is the 12th book in the Land of Oz series by L. Frank Baum. The story of this book is based upon an unresolved plot thread from the first Oz book.
...speaking of the Tin Woodman, his origin story is a little bit bizarre, and I actually don't remember how they explained it in the movie, but here in the book he says that he was in love with a Munchkin woman and then what happened, somebody got jealous or something, and so the wicked witch enchanted his axe, so he cut one arm off and then he had it replaced with tin and then he cut another arm off with his axe so the axe was enchanted so whenever he would swing it, it would fly so it would cut off a piece of his body, and then he lost his limbs, and then it cut off his body, so he had to get his body replaced and then he had to get his head replaced ...and then the the Tin Woodman, because he's all made out of tin he's no longer in love with that Munchkin woman who he had been in love with, and she just is waiting for him and he has completely no desire for her anymore, so he thinks that if he gets the heart then maybe he'll remember his love for this Munchkin woman he was once in love with...but then once he gets the heart at the end, then there's there's never any mention made about that Munchkin woman again. She's mentioned in his origin story, but then once he gets his heart in fact he goes off to become the ruler of the Winkies and and has no desire to... I don't know, maybe that will be addressed in one of the later books. Maybe, you know, near the end of the series, book 15, he'll remember his Munchkin lover or I don't know...
...it turns out, I was right. This unresolved plot thread from the first book is now finally being picked up in book 12 (18 years later). Apparently I wasn't the only one who noticed this plot whole, because L. Frank Baum opens up the book by saying:
I know that some of you have been waiting for this story of the Tin Woodman, because many of my correspondents have asked me, time and again what ever became of the "pretty Munchkin girl" whom Nick Chopper was engaged to marry before the Wicked Witch enchanted his axe and he traded his flesh for tin. I, too, have wondered what became of her, but until Woot the Wanderer interested himself in the matter the Tin Woodman knew no more than we did. However, he found her, after many thrilling adventures, as you will discover when you have read this story.
Plot Summary (***SPOILERS***) and Evaluation
A boy named "Woot the Wanderer" (a new character) shows up at the Tin Woodman's palace, and asks about his origin story. The Tin Woodman tells the story about the enchanted axe and the girl he was in love with, and Woot asks why the Tin Woodman never returned to her.
The explanation for this (something that was never explained in the first book) involves a bit of retconning. It's explained that the Tin Woodman was given a kind heart, but not a loving heart, so even after getting his heart from the wizard, he still wasn't able to return the love of the Munchkin girl he left behind. (The continuity in the Oz books is so fluid that at this point in the series you just have to accept it. The cast of characters is largely consistent, but every book re-imagines their shared history, and you just have to go with it.)
Woot the Wanderer points out that even someone with a kindly heart wouldn't abandon the girl that was waiting for him. The Scarecrow says that Woot is right, and the Tin Woodman, the Scarecrow and Woot the Wanderer decide to go on a journey to try to find the Tin Woodman's lost love.
As with (almost) all of the books in the Oz canon, this is a journey story. Our main characters journey along the road, and then they encounter many obstacles and strange things. Most of them have no relationship to the overall plot, they're just fun little side adventures. (Or, as the case may be, boring little side adventures.)
There's a little side adventure into the land of the balloon creatures, which I found funny and imaginative.
The characters also encounter the castle of Mrs. Yoop. (Mrs. Yoop is a call-back to book 7: The Patchwork Girl of Oz, in which our characters had encountered Yoop the giant. Mrs. Yoop is his wife.) Mrs. Yoop transforms the Tin Woodman into a tin owl, the Scarecrow into a straw bear, and Woot into a green monkey.
(They also encounter Polychrome, the rainbow's daughter--from book 5--who has been transformed into a canary).
They escape from Mrs. Yoop's castle into the forest, but then have to escape a hungry jaguar in the forest, and then a den of dragons under ground. It's all a bit ridiculous, and none of it advances the main plot at all, but... it's fun. There's a bit of madcap energy to it, and it's fun to imagine this group of misfit characters--a green monkey, a tin owl, and straw bear, and a canary with fairy powers.
The plot slows down a bit after this.
There's an interlude with Dorothy and Ozma as they get changed back to their original forms.
Then there's the introduction of a second tin man, and a rather bizarre scene in which the tin woodman encounters his original head again (and has a conversation with it.)
The last part of the journey (going through the invisible country and encountering the Hip-po-gy-raf that likes to eat straw) bored me, but then we get to the end soon after that, and the ending was suitably clever.
There are some fun call backs to previous books. In addition to the one's I've already mention above, we encounter Jinjur (from book 2) and the mother and father of the 9 little piglets (from book 4).
Of course, there are a lot of inconsistencies. (Jinjur had a husband in book 3 who is now missing. The origin of the 9 little piglets in book 4 was from outside of Oz, but now it is changed to be from within Oz.)
The way the continuity appears to work in these Oz books is that L. Frank Baum likes to bring back characters from previous books for cool call-back scenes, but the characters also get slightly re-imagined with each new book.
The Tin Woodman had just noticed the cupboards and was curious to know what they contained, so he went to one of them and opened the door. There were shelves inside, and upon one of the shelves which was about on a level with his tin chin the Emperor discovered a Head—it looked like a doll's head,210 only it was larger, and he soon saw it was the Head of some person. It was facing the Tin Woodman and as the cupboard door swung back, the eyes of the Head slowly opened and looked at him. The Tin Woodman was not at all surprised, for in the Land of Oz one runs into magic at every turn.
"Dear me!" said the Tin Woodman, staring hard. "It seems as if I had met you, somewhere, before. Good morning, sir!"
"You have the advantage of me," replied the Head. "I never saw you before in my life."
"Still, your face is very familiar," persisted the Tin Woodman. "Pardon me, but may I ask if you—eh—eh—if you ever had a Body?"
"Yes, at one time," answered the Head, "but that is so long ago I can't remember it. Did you think," with a pleasant smile, "that I was born just as I am? That a Head would be created without a Body?"
"No, of course not," said the other. "But how came you to lose your body?"
"Well, I can't recollect the details; you'll have to ask Ku-Klip about it," returned the Head. "For, curious as it may seem to you, my memory is not good since my separation from the rest of me. I still possess my brains and my intellect is as good as ever, but my memory of some of the events I formerly experienced is quite hazy."
"How long have you been in this cupboard?" asked the Emperor.
"I don't know."
"Haven't you a name?"
"Oh, yes," said the Head; "I used to be called Nick Chopper, when I was a woodman and cut down trees for a living."
"Good gracious!" cried the Tin Woodman in astonishment. "If you are Nick Chopper's Head, then you are Me—or I'm You—or—or— What relation are we, anyhow?"
"Don't ask me," replied the Head. "For my part, I'm not anxious to claim relationship with any common, manufactured article, like you. You may be all right in your class, but your class isn't my class. You're tin."
The poor Emperor felt so bewildered that for a time he could only stare at his old Head in silence. Then he said:
"I must admit that I wasn't at all bad looking before I became tin. You're almost handsome—for meat. If your hair was combed, you'd be quite attractive."
"How do you expect me to comb my hair without help?" demanded the Head, indignantly. "I used to keep it smooth and neat, when I had arms, but after I was removed from the rest of me, my hair got mussed, and old Ku-Klip never has combed it for me."
"I'll speak to him about it," said the Tin Woodman. "Do you remember loving a pretty Munchkin girl named Nimmie Amee?"
"No," answered the Head. "That is a foolish question. The heart in my body—when I had a body—might have loved someone, for all I know, but a head isn't made to love; it's made to think."
"Oh; do you think, then?"
"I used to think."
"You must have been shut up in this cupboard for years and years. What have you thought about, in all that time?"
"Nothing. That's another foolish question. A little reflection will convince you that I have had nothing to think about, except the boards on the inside of the cupboard door, and it didn't take me long to think of everything about those boards that could be thought of. Then, of course, I quit thinking."
Links
Dane and I are doing this series as a buddy reads. Dane's written review is here. He makes the point: "It’s also potentially the first book in the whole series that isn’t mistitled, so there’s that." Which is actually a good point.
Mari Ness's review is useful for getting at the themes underlying this book. (Something I confess I didn't fully appreciate until I read her review). To quote from part of it:
Beneath the ongoing puns (and an extremely silly encounter with balloon people), The Tin Woodman of Oz is a surprisingly serious book, dealing with issues of identity and fidelity. Throughout the book, the Tin Woodman and his companions are forced to confront assumptions about who and what they are.
Mari Ness doesn't mention it, but there's also a part in chapter 11 that perfectly fits her thesis about this book:
The Bear and the Owl gravely watched this operation and nodded approval when Woot's silky green fur shone clear and bright in the afternoon sun. The Canary seemed much amused and laughed a silvery ripple of laughter as she said:
"Very well done, my good Jinjur; I admire your energy and judgment. But I had no idea a monkey could look so comical as this monkey did while he was being bathed."
"I'm not a monkey!" declared Woot, resentfully;154 "I'm just a boy in a monkey's shape, that's all."
"If you can explain to me the difference," said Jinjur, "I'll agree not to wash you again—that is, unless you foolishly get into the fireplace. All persons are usually judged by the shapes in which they appear to the eyes of others.
This reminds me of something further. I'm reminded of comments Chomsky made in the documentary Is the Man Who is Tall Happy? Chomsky talks about the story of Sylvester and the Magic Pebble (W) and uses it as an example of how children use language to assign identity to things--Sylvester is still considered a donkey even when he is transformed into a rock. That same identity issue is brought up several times in The Tin Woodman of Oz.
Originally published in 1917, this is the 11th book in the Oz series.
The Plot (***SPOILERS***)
Ozma, the princess of Oz, has disappeared, and nobody knows where she went.
Well, nothing to do but sent out a search party. Dorothy and her friends decide to go wandering through the land of Oz and hope that they bump into Ozma somewhere in their journey.
And along the way, they encounter many strange lands and strange creatures.
So, yes, this is another journey story in the Oz series. Most of the books are journey stories in which the characters go along the road, and encounter wacky adventures as they go.
This book is somewhat unique in that our primary group of adventurers are all old characters. Usually L. Frank Baum introduces several new characters to go on the journey, but this time it's all familiar faces: Dorothy, Toto, Button Bright, Trot, Hank the Mule, the Little Wizard, Woozy, Betsy Bobbin, the Cowardly Lion, the Saw Horse, and The Patchwork Girl all set out in one huge party.
It's a lot of characters to juggle in the narrative, but L. Frank Baum does a decent job of balancing them all out.
There is, however, a secondary plot, and in this secondary plot L. Frank Baum fills his usual quota of new characters. In the secondary plot, Cayke the Cookie Cook loses her magic cookie dishpan, and she sets out to find it with Frogman (a giant anthropomorphic frog), and along the way the are joined by Lavender Bear (the king of the teddy bears) and the magic Pink Bear.
Both groups converge near the end, and realize that their quests are one and the same (the same person who captured Ozma also stole the magic dishpan).
The Reading Experience / Evaluation
So, 11 books into the Oz series now, and what is there left to say? My comments about this book are going to be remarkably similar to my comments about all the other Oz books in the series.
On the negative side:
--There's no real plot development. The characters just wander around and stumble upon various things.
--The continuity in this series is inconsistent. There's a lot of things established in previous books that are contradicted in this one.
--Even within this book, there's some inconsistencies. (Can creatures die in the Land of Oz or not? This book seems to go back and forth on it.)
On the positive side:
--The characters are fun and delightfully wacky. And at this point in the series, we've now got a large ensemble of characters (most of which were introduced in previous books), so we've got a lot of fun characters to play around with.
--Some of the lands and creatures that are encountered along the way are fun to imagine.
The Lost Princess of Oz is, at its heart, a tale of truth, deception and illusion, taking a subtle look at the methods used by rulers to maintain control. Nearly every ruler and authority figure in this book tells a lie of one kind or another, actively building a net of deception. Those who do not are oddly powerless. Throw in a classic quest story, a hint of mystery, and lessons on the differences between reality and illusion, and you have one of the better of the latter Oz books. Oh, and a village of gun-toting teddy-bears. What’s not to love?
As you can see from the above quotation, Mari Ness picks up on a theme that (I admit) I did not pick up on when I read it. I read this book as just another typical Oz, but Mari Ness notes that there's a theme of deception and control throughout the book. And upon reflection, I think she's got a good point. To see her develop this argument further, read her full review.
Mari Ness also comments:
The book is not without its flaws. I was displeased to see the return of the deux ex machina Magic Belt, especially given that every other magical item of Oz was stolen. So why not that one? The usual inconsistencies and minor detours abound, along with yet another example of how the Tin Woodman’s relentless focus on kindness can result in a potentially serious miscarriage of justice, as in Patchwork Girl. A side plot about Toto’s supposedly stolen growl gets annoying.
After reading so many of the Oz books with Joel Swagman on YouTube, I was starting to feel a little jaded by the series. Luckily, this one brought things back up, although not quite to their former levels.
I think part of that is because the last few books have just felt as though Baum was just shoehorning Oz in, rather than using the land and his original cast of characters to their full extent. The fact that this one centres on Dorothy and friends instead of just bringing them in at the end to say hello made for a much more engaging read.
The plot itself was pretty interesting too, because it basically centred around a bunch of characters teaming up to try to track down Ozma, who’s gone missing. What’s not to like about that?
All in all then, it’s restored my faith a little in what the Oz series has to offer, and I’m looking forward to finishing it off. Good times.
And indeed, this is the book where Toto finally starts talking.
This has been a long time coming. It's been established since book 3 that any ordinary animal who enters the Land of Oz is able to talk. Of course the continuity in these books is famously loose, but this is a point that's come up over and over again: Billina the Hen, Hank the Mule, Jim the Horse, Eureka the Kitten. So eventually it became a bit glaring that Toto was the only animal who never talked. It was then established in book 8 that Toto could talk, he just didn't want to. But L. Frank Baum apparently changed his mind on this, so in this book, Toto is talking just as much as the other characters.
After spending so much time with Toto as just a normal dog, it's a bit odd to see him talking all the time now. As Dane says, "I'm not sure whether I'm up for that!" It feels strange, but it's also new and interesting.
* This book gets an extra point from me for having an anthropomorphic frog as a main character.
I couldn't tell you why, but I always associate anthropomorphic frogs with delightfully charming children's stories. I guess it's just association from childhood--stories like The Wind in the Willows (and its Disney - adaptation), songs like Froggie Went A-Courting, Frog and Toad are Friends, etc.
Extended Quotation
From Chapter 10: Toto Loses Something "I've lost my growl!" said Toto, who had been very silent and sober all that day. "What do you suppose has become of it?"
"If you had asked me to keep track of your growl, I might be able to tell you," remarked the Lion sleepily. "But, frankly, Toto, I supposed you were taking care of it yourself."
"It's an awful thing to lose one's growl," said Toto, wagging his tail disconsolately. "What if you lost your roar, Lion? Wouldn't you feel terrible?"
"My roar," replied the Lion, "is the fiercest thing about me. I depend on it to frighten my enemies so badly that they won't dare to fight me."
"Once," said the Mule, "I lost my bray, so that I couldn't call to Betsy to let her know I was hungry. That was before I could talk, you know, for I had not yet come into the Land of Oz, and I found it was certainly very uncomfortable not to be able to make a noise."
"You make enough noise now," declared Toto. "But none of you has answered my question: Where is my growl?"
"You may search me" said the Woozy. "I don't care for such things myself."
"You snore terribly," asserted Toto.
"It may be," said the Woozy. "What one does when asleep one is not accountable for. I wish you would wake me up, some time when I'm snoring, and let me hear the sound. Then I can judge whether it is terrible or delightful."
"It isn't pleasant, I assure you," said the Lion, yawning.
"To me it seems wholly unnecessary," declared Hank the Mule.
"You ought to break yourself of the habit," said the Sawhorse. "You never hear me snore, because I never sleep. I don't even whinny, as those puffy meat horses do. I wish that whoever stole Toto's growl had taken the Mule's bray and the Lion's roar and the Woozy's snore at the same time."
"Do you think, then, that my growl was stolen?"
"You have never lost it before, have you?" inquired the Sawhorse.
"Only once, when I had a sore throat from barking too long at the moon."
"Is your throat sore now?" asked the Woozy.
"No," replied the dog.
"I can't understand," said Hank, "why dogs bark at the moon. They can't scare the moon, and the moon doesn't pay any attention to the bark. So why do dogs do it?"
"Were you ever a dog?" asked Toto.
"No, indeed," replied Hank. "I am thankful to say I was created a mule—the most beautiful of all beasts—and have always remained one."
The Woozy sat upon his square haunches to examine Hank with care.
"Beauty," said he, "must be a matter of taste. I don't say your judgment is bad, friend Hank, or that you are so vulgar as to be conceited. But if you admire big waggly ears, and a tail like a paint-brush, and hoofs big enough for an elephant, and a long neck and a body so skinny that one can count the ribs with one eye shut—if that's your idea of beauty, Hank—then either you or I must be much mistaken."
"You're full of edges," sneered the Mule. "If I were square, as you are, I suppose you'd think me lovely."
"Outwardly, dear Hank, I would," replied the Woozy. "But to be really lovely one must be beautiful without and within."
The Mule couldn't deny this statement, so he gave a disgusted grunt and rolled over so that his back was toward the Woozy. But the Lion, regarding the two calmly with his great yellow eyes, said to the dog:
"My dear Toto, our friends have taught us a lesson in humility. If the Woozy and the Mule are indeed beautiful creatures, as they seem to think, you and I must be decidedly ugly."
****END QUOTATION****
I choose this quotation because it illustrates a number of things:
* It's a perfect illustration of how much Toto is talking now in this book.
* It's the introduction of one of the book's subplots about how Toto has lost his growl--a subplot that will be mentioned all throughout the remainder of the book, but will ultimately go nowhere. (I agree with Mari Ness that this subplot is one of the book's weaker points.)
* It's also a good example of how the main plot of this book will simply stop to allow the animals to talk to each other--L. Frank Baum has a lot of characters he's juggling on this journey, and to keep them from becoming superfluous, he frequently stops the plot to allow them to talk with each other. There are positives and negatives to this. (I admit to feeling some frustration during these sections.)
* Although speaking of Mari Ness, she actually sees these conversations as part of the book's larger theme about deception versus reality. "He’s not the only one who has to study deception versus reality. To find Ozma, Dorothy and the gang must learn the difference between illusion and reality, and the deceptiveness of appearances, as they move through a series of traps set by a sorcerer, and try to deduce Ozma’s location. In yet another twist on the theme, the Lavender Bear’s magic allows him to do illusions—illusions that show the truth. And the animals have several conversations about appearance versus reality as they argue over which of them—Hank, the Woozy, the Cowardly Lion, Toto or the Sawhorse—is the most beautiful."
As you can see from my links above, Mari Ness and Dane both rate this book as a better than average Oz story. I am tempted to just rate this as average. But upon reflection, it perhaps does have enough charming moments to push it just slightly above average. And it also has an anthropomorphic frog. 6 out of 10 it is.
