Heartaches and Nightmares Are Left Out

I was watching a movie on television, seated on the living room sofa in our family’s apartment in Mobile, Alabama, when my Aunt Sandra came in and walked across the room to visit my mother, her older sister. When she passed between me and the TV, she turned to me and said, “Do you know it’s all just a dream yet?” The movie was the 1939 movie The Wizard of Oz, starring Judy Garland as Dorothy. My Aunt continued through the room to see my mother and left without waiting for my answer, which would have been like, “No. I didn’t know that, and now I’ll never get to see it without knowing that.” It was December 13, 1959. I was nine; my Aunt was eighteen.

It was only the second time the movie had been shown on TV. The first broadcast was in 1956. I didn’t see that one. The film was not televised in 1957 or 1958. Although it was broadcast in color from the beginning of its many television appearances, in 1959, not many people had color televisions. We didn’t. So, many of the film’s cinematic effects were lost on me, for example, the beautiful scene where Dorothy opens the door after her house lands in Oz, and the dull black and white Kansas colors have been replaced by the astounding beauty of the colorful Land of Oz. Nevertheless, that 1959 viewing started a lifelong love affair with the movie. 

Fast forward: In the 1980s, VHS was a popular movie-viewing medium. My daughter was born in 1984. One of the first films I rented to watch with her was The Wizard of Oz. She and I watched it together, sitting on the couch in the living room of our home in Philadelphia. At the point in the movie when the Witch’s monkeys were pulling the straw stuffing out of the Scarecrow, my daughter jumped off the couch, ran over to the VCR, and switched it off. She popped the movie out, turned to me, and said, “Daddy, take this movie back to the store. I never want to see it again.” The Scarescrow’s unstuffing was more than her little heart could take. I picked her up and told her everything would be OK and not to worry, and after some more talking, she said we could continue watching the movie.

In a room adjacent to the one where I am writing this, there is a bookshelf laden with nothing but movies. One is the two-disc 70th anniversary edition of The Wizard of Oz. It is only now, however, when I am in my 70s, that I’m finally reading the book. I’m halfway through it. I’ve just completed chapter XI, “The Wonderful Emerald City of Oz.” There are some things I want to mention at this point in my reading. I hope to revisit the story with another blog or two once I finish the book.

As is almost always the case, there are differences between a book and its film. One of them is that there is a slight difference in the titles of the 1939 movie and the book by L. Frank Baum. The 1939 film is titled The Wizard of Oz. The original book by L. Frank Baum is titled The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. This can lead to some confusion.

Another difference is that in the movie, all four characters are ushered into the presence of the Wizard simultaneously. That’s not true in the book. In Baum’s book, each character visits the Wizard alone on separate, successive days: Dorothy is first, then the Scarecrow, next the Tin Woodman, and last the Cowardly Lion. The Wizard appears to each of them differently, seated on a beautiful emerald-decorated throne. In the previous chapter, Dorothy and her companions spent the night with a family outside the city. During their conversation, Dorothy asked the man in whose home they were staying the question foremost in her mind.

“What is he like?” asked the girl. 

“That is hard to tell,” said the man thoughtfully. “You see, Oz is a Great Wizard, and can take on any form he wishes. So that some say he looks like a bird; and some say he looks like an elephant; and some say he looks like a cat. To others he appears as a beautiful fairy, or a brownie, or in any other form that pleases him. But who the real Oz is, when he is in his own form, no living person can tell.” 

[Baum, L. Frank. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (Illustrated): The 1900 Classic Edition with Original Illustrations (p. 109). Sky Publishing. Kindle Edition.] 

If you have seen the movie, do you remember the task that the Wizard sets Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman, and the Cowardly Lion to accomplish before he grants them their particular requests? There is a difference in phrasing here between the movie and the book. I am still debating the significance of the wording. Below is an excerpt of the relevant scene from the film’s movie script. Note: “LS” stands for “Long Shot,” and “MS” stands for “Medium Shot.” These are terms used in film production to describe the framing of scenes.

        OZ'S VOICE
Bring me the broomstick of the Witch...

        OZ'S VOICE
...of the West.

        TIN MAN
B-B-B-B-B-But if we do that, we'll have to
kill her to get it!

        OZ'S VOICE
Bring me her broomstick, and I'll grant your
requests.

“Bring me the broomstick of the Witch.” Notice the stuttered response of the Tin Man (in the book Tin Woodman) and what he deems necessary to accomplish the task.

Here’s the same scene from the book, taken from Dorothy’s interview with the Wizard. It’s repeated in the Wizard’s interviews with the other characters.

“Bring me the broomstick of the Witch” versus “Kill the Wicked Witch of the West”! It is theoretically possible to steal the Witch’s broomstick without killing her, although the movie Tin Man seems not to think so. I have to tell you I was a bit shocked when reading this scene in the book. Part of the reason, of course, is that I was only familiar with the movie and did not think of the four companions embarking on a murder mission.

It’s time for a meta-question, an aesthetic one, concerning children’s literature. Is it appropriate to write children’s books where characters, particularly young children, are asked to kill someone? Well, I’m not going to answer that here. However, one is tempted to ask why the task assigned to the characters in the movie was at least stated somewhat differently than in the book, even if the results might very well be the same.

The question is interesting, especially when viewed in light of what L. Frank Baum said that was his purpose in writing the book. Here is Baum’s Introduction the book.

Folklore, legends, myths and fairy tales have followed childhood through the ages, for every healthy youngster has a wholesome and instinctive love for stories fantastic, marvelous and manifestly unreal. The winged fairies of Grimm and Andersen have brought more happiness to childish hearts than all other human creations. 

Yet the old time fairy tale, having served for generations, may now be classed as “historical” in the children’s library; for the time has come for a series of newer “wonder tales” in which the stereotyped genie, dwarf and fairy are eliminated, together with all the horrible and blood-curdling incidents devised by their authors to point a fearsome moral to each tale. Modern education includes morality; therefore the modern child seeks only entertainment in its wonder tales and gladly dispenses with all disagreeable incidents. 

Having this thought in mind, the story of “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” was written solely to please children of today. It aspires to being a modernized fairy tale, in which the wonderment and joy are retained and the heartaches and nightmares are left out. 

L. Frank Baum. 

Chicago, April, 1900.

Baum wrote these words in 1900. They were printed just before the book’s first chapter. As you can see, he was writing in response to the works of Grimm and Andersen. When the movie of his book was made thirty-nine years later, the Wizard poses his request to the four seekers differently than he does in the book. I’m not sure why. Perhaps, by doing so, the filmmakers thought at least to mitigate one of the book’s potential “nightmares.” Did they? What do you think? Were heartaches and nightmares left out of Baum’s story by Baum himself? Should such things be left out of stories for children?

All the best,
Gershon