Episode Three: There and Back Again
The Scarecrow and company seek refuge with the Tin Woodman in Winkie Country, then attempt to reconquer the Emerald City. Most people in a situation like this would raise an army, call up the CIA, maybe see if other powerful regional rulers in Oz might want to help restore the Scarecrow to his throne.
Not Nick Chopper. Oh, he agrees that Something Must Be Done -- and immediately picks up his axe and leads Tip, Jack Pumpkinhead, the Scarecrow, and the Sawhorse back to the Emerald City. No army, no leaflets, not even a force of loyalist exiles. He does have an axe, which doesn't seem like much until you realize he's going up against an army equipped with nothing but knitting-needles. A man made of metal carrying an axe is like the Terminator compared to Jinjur's Army of Revolt.
Of course, Jinjur's shrewd enough to figure that out herself, so she calls in a really big gun: Mombi. It turns out Mombi's not just an old woman who knows a little magic, she's apparently a major-league sorceress. Evidently she wasn't interested in struggling for power with the Wicked and Good Witches of the cardinal directions back in the pre-Dorothy era, but she certainly seems to be playing in the same league. Mombi uses magic to confuse and disorient the Scarecrow's party, even plaguing them with a field of flowers with the faces of Jinjur's soldiers. The tender-hearted Tin Woodman can't bear to chop them down. They finally close their eyes and get past the illusions that way.
Along the way the Scarecrow & Co. pick up one of my favorite characters from the Oz books: Professor H.M. Wogglebug, T.E. The H.M. stands for Highly Magnified, and the T.E. for Thoroughly Educated. He's as tall as the Tin Woodman and is the most pedantic person in Oz. He also gets off some really wonderful puns. The Wogglebug spends a chapter explaining how he got to be Highly Magnified, Thoroughly Educated, and where he got his nifty yellow-lined swallowtail coat and top hat.
They also run into the Queen of the Field Mice, who saved the Cowardly Lion's bacon from the poppies back in the previous book. The Scarecrow asks to borrow a dozen or so mice for use against Jinjur's army, and tucks them into his straw-stuffed body for safe keeping.
At last they reach the Emerald City, and at first it does seem that the Tin Woodman's strategic analysis is correct. Jinjur's soldiers flee the terrifying sight of his glittering axe. But they don't flee far.
The Emerald City under occupation has its sex roles reversed. The men are doing housework and looking after the children, the women are idling. Worse yet, Jinjur's troops have picked all the gems out of the pavements with their knitting-needles. Jinjur herself is lounging in the Scarecrow's old throne eating caramels.
Jinjur justifies her new regime on the rather pragmatic grounds that she was able to take the throne, so she deserves to keep it. Even the Scarecrow can't think of a really good answer for that. While they're wrangling, Jinjur's soldiers ambush the Scarecrow's little army and things look grim for a while. Jinjur's even threatening to make a pie out of Jack Pumpkinhead!
But then the Scarecrow releases the mice and Jinjur's army react in time-honored domestic comedy fashion by fleeing. The Reconquistadors barricade themselves inside the palace, and the reader now notices that we're exactly back where we were six chapters previously, with the Scarecrow and friends locked in the Royal Palace, surrounded by Jinjur's army.
This time the Scarecrow decides to abdicate and escape again. They can't all ride out on the Sawhorse, so it seems they may be stuck. Then Tip remembers he's got one dose left of the Powder of Life. The Scarecrow orders everyone to search through the palace for things to assemble into a flying-machine.
And now I'm going to talk about another big difference between Land of Oz and Wizard: the artwork. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz was illustrated by W.W. Denslow, who had worked with Baum on some previous books, including the successful Father Goose. Denslow and Baum broke up after a dispute over copyrights -- Denslow wanted a cut of the proceeds from the Wizard of Oz stage play and Baum didn't see why he should get it. So all the subsequent Oz books by L. Frank Baum were illustrated by John R. Neill.
Thank goodness! Frankly, I never really liked the Denslow artwork in Wizard. The figures are too stiff and cartoony. Everyone is pop-eyed and slightly grotesque.
But Neill! Ah, that man could draw! He had a wonderful style -- sophisticated but slightly whimsical -- which was perfect for Oz. Or perhaps it was perfect because his illustrations defined Oz for me and generations of other readers. In Neill's hands, Oz took on an elegance which was lacking in Denslow's version. It really looked like a fantastic fairyland. Moreover it looked like a real place, not the cartoon stage-set of the Denslow illustrations.
He also could draw buildings. Neill's illustrations give you a look at the palaces and fantastic castles of Oz, and they're as impressive and elegant as any European monarch's. (Although none of the book illustrations comes close to the amazing Art Deco cityscape of the Emerald City created by Cedric Gibbons and Jack Martin Smith for the 1939 film.)
To me, at least, the illustrations are as much part of the "real" Oz books as the text. I live not far from the Eric Carle Museum of children's book illustration, and they frequently have exhibitions of the work of various artists. A fair number of them have done their own versions of the Wizard of Oz (none of them ever seem to tackle the later books). The pictures are interesting, but they aren't real to me. I have a similar feeling about Ernest Shepard's drawings for Winnie the Pooh and The Wind in the Willows, or Tenniel's pictures for Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. Other people can do their own versions, but as far as I'm concerned, that's "fan art." The originals are canon.
Enough gushing about artwork for now. Our Heroes are trapped in the Palace. Will they escape? Find out in Part Four!
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