Monday, September 26, 2011

Refreshingly Horrifying: Baum's Innovation

Fairy tales have stood the test of time, but they have little popularity save with young children. After a certain age, few desire to read ridiculously moralistic stories filled with unrealistic events and tied up too neatly with a boring happy ending. Given that L.Frank Baum wrote fantasy stories for children, one might expect their readership to be similarly limited, but this is not the case. Why might this be so? Perhaps because Baum’s writings are actually quite different from the usual kind of fairy tales. In the book Oz and Beyond: The Fantasy World of L. Frank Baum, Michael O. Riley asserts that Baum intended not to write traditional fantasy stories, but to create a new kind of fairy tale. (Riley 70) It seems to me that, at least to some degree, he succeeded.

In a collection of Baum’s short stories called American Fairy Tales, eleven of the twelve stories are set not in an imaginary place, but here on Earth (though thankfully none of them were set in London - no need to give children nightmares; the world will do that without help). (Riley 71) This is common nowadays, but for Baum’s time it was revolutionary. No more were there fantasy stories happening “in a land far, far away” and realistic fiction taking place on Earth with no middle ground; instead, Baum takes familiar settings and uses them as a background for fantastic events, subtly altering the way his readers think about the world. He would have been wiser, of course, to use such tactics to alert his readers to the possibility and, indeed, likelihood of unforeseen horrors occurring. Instead he chose to write stories that appear to be light and happy, lulling readers into a false sense of security - but no matter. He laid the foundation that now can enable others to raise the alarm.

One of the other notable ways Baum made his stories unique was allowing a hint of cynicism to seep in. (Riley 71) He was not nearly as cynical as the world warrants, of course - very few have the aptitude for cynicism that I possess - but he still showed himself capable of some degree of perception of the evil surrounding us all, which distinguishes him from storytellers before him. Older fairy tales moralized, yes, and exhibited high levels of violence and death - to such a degree that perhaps they were not entirely fantasy - but they showed no disillusionment with the world. Rather, their message is “If you obey authority figures, or are kind to strangers, or remain a good person even in adverse circumstances, everything will end happily” - rubbish. Baum’s style is much more realistic and relevant. In fact, some of his stories do not even end happily - shocking for a writer of children’s stories, but admirable.

Baum’s short story “The Glass Dog” is a particularly good example of the above, and other, deviations from the usual fairy tale model. In the very first sentence, we meet a wizard, but this wizard does not live in a castle or in an enchanted forest. He lives in a tenement house in what appears to be an ordinary city. The story is full of magic occurring in the middle of the kind of place where many of Baum’s readers would have lived. One wonders if children, after reading this story, walked down the streets looking for rich young women, glassblowers, and pink dogs.

Another notable feature is that Baum’s story has no traditional protagonist. The wizard would be the most likely candidate, but his reclusive nature results in relatively few appearances in the narrative; most of the story follows the glassblower’s life. As I wrote before, he and Miss Mydas are so shallow and selfish that it would be unbelievable were those traits not visible to the same degree in the world every day. In most fairy tales, these would be the villains, and their repulsive natures would stand in stark contrast to the virtue of the protagonist(s), but that is not the case in this story. They are the main characters, Baum’s chosen representatives of the world, a choice all too fitting.

“The Glass Dog” is also not nearly as lighthearted as most fairy stories are, and I do not mean just the nature of the characters. In one striking example, a large part of one scene is devoted to the glassblower’s preparations to hang himself. Moreover, the incongruity of his knotting the rope while conversing with the wizard seems to be intended as humorous. Suicide is hardly the usual subject matter of children’s literature, still less an amusing element. Also, when the glassblower and Miss Mydas marry, they do not “live happily ever after;” they make each other miserable. The only one who gets anything resembling a happy ending is the wizard, who finally gets his dog back and is left alone as he wished. Finally, while the vast majority of fairy tales have a moral of some sort, Baum claimed that “The Glass Dog” does not. (I am inclined to disagree, but if he did not intend one to be present, then he was certainly trying to write something different from a typical fairy tale.)

Baum’s many divergences from the standard formula for a fairy tale or children’s story make for an original and refreshing read. His creativity and innovation are praiseworthy in and of themselves, but he uses them to better present a much-needed message. If his intention was to write a new kind of fairy tale, then he achieved his goal and did it well.

WORKS CITED
Riley, Michael O. Oz and Beyond: The Fantasy World of L. Frank Baum. Lawrence, KS: University Press of Kansas, 1997. 70-71. Print.

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