Showing posts with label L. Frank Baum. Show all posts
Showing posts with label L. Frank Baum. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Delphi's Complete Works of L. Frank Baum e-book

I don't often review (or buy) e-books, but as I was looking to add digital versions of books in my library to my phone for convenience's sake (and also because I'm packing up my library), I came across one that sounds as if it needed some closer examination. Claiming to be the Complete Works of L. Frank Baum for $3 on Amazon or $4 on Google Play or direct from the publisher.

Well, what does the publisher say about the collection?
For the first time in print or digital publishing, Delphi Classics is proud to present the complete fictional works of master storyteller L. Frank Baum. This monumental eBook offers hundreds of beautiful illustrations, lost works, informative introductions and the usual Delphi bonus material.
How does that hold up? Well, here's the table of contents.




Wow, that's pretty impressive! And well, it does contain all of his novels. The best way to navigate is to go through this table of contents and each novel contains its own table of contents. Some of the ones I haven't seen in e-book form before do seem to have some typos. Here's what you don't get, though: A New Wonderland (The Magical Monarch of Mo before it was revised, it contained at least one different chapter), and the new ending chapters of Aunt Jane's Nieces in the Red Cross added for its 1918 revision.

But wait, aren't there more plays that Baum wrote that still exist? Yes, the script for Ozma of Oz (eventually revised and produced as The Tik-Tok Man of Oz) is actually already online and the script for The Woggle-Bug exists in the Library of Congress. There are also a number of shorter plays Scott Andrew Hutchins put on his now-offline (but Archived) site. So, this is a section that could be expanded. (Also, the complete script for The Uplift of Lucifer is out there.)

So, what about the short stories? They have two tables of contents, one chronological, one alphabetical. (There's also a similar one for the poems.)








So, it seems we're losing the introductions for Animal Fairy Tales and Mother Goose in Prose here. Strange. Also, the recently-discovered short story "John" (published in the Baum Bugle) doesn't appear. And, of course, "Chrome Yellow" doesn't appear. (You can't get that anywhere, thanks, Baum Trust.)

There is, however, one item that causes me some consternation. "The Queer Visitors from Oz." Does that title sound familiar? Well, as I'm the one who compiled that collection, it should. It's an import of an e-book manybooks.net made of my digital collection on an old version of my website. It has no table of contents and this means that The Woggle-Bug Book is included in this compilation twice. (I've since compiled a better version with a working table of contents in both HTML and EPUB. It is not online, though.) Even more strangely, some of my captions for pictures on my site made it into the text! Also, there's no note that I edited the "What Did The Woggle-Bug Say?" answers into the story.

Okay, so what about poems?






Well, that's pretty nice, though I know the next Baum Bugle will contain a never-before seen poem by Baum, so it's incomplete, but we can't quite call foul here since the publishers had no access to it before.

As for illustrations? No, the illustrations aren't complete. Not every book has illustrations, and not even all of the illustrated books have all the illustrations. The main point of e-books is retaining the text, and a complete set of images for all of Baum's work would result in a massive file.

Finally, perhaps songs would be out of the scope of an e-book collection, but I know, Baum had written many songs for plays and otherwise. While I imagine it wouldn't be ideal to include the sheet music, at least having the lyrics would have been nice.

Overall, though, while I've pointed out that this collection is not complete, it is still a massive selection of Baum's works in a fairly easy to access format. For only $3 or $4, I'd say what is there would make it ideal for anyone wanting to add Baum's works to their e-reader.

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Phoebe Daring

Well, I finally read Phoebe Daring. As I said in my review of The Daring Twins, this was the last published L. Frank Baum novel I had yet to read. Now I've read it and there are no known books by Baum that I'll be enjoying for the first time ever again.

This was the first time in a very long time where I'd read a Baum book in a digital form for the first time. My first readings of The Master Key, The Sea Fairies, Sky Island, The Magical Monarch of Mo and Queen Zixi of Ix were on my parents' now long-gone Windows 3.1 computer. This time, I'd found the book available in an ebook from Delphi Publishing titled "The Complete Works of L. Frank Baum" (which isn't complete). I read it on my phone, but I'll save any further notes for a review of that ebook. (There is a lot of say.) There were a few formatting issues I'll note. One paragraph had misplaced quotation marks, and the grocer was called "Tom Eat bun" which I felt couldn't be correct. Also, em dashes had spaces around them.

Phoebe Daring was the second of the Daring Twins series, which Baum began in 1911 in his boldest move of all: non-fantasy works under his own name. It seems he intended to continue the series with a book titled Phil Daring's Experiment, but in 1913, Baum went back to Oz books only. If any of this third book was written, it is not known to exist.

The book opens with catching us up with the Darings and their friends in Riverdale. Judge Ferguson—who took an interest in the Darings and gave them a lot of support before wrongs were finally righted—has suddenly died, and in the midst of settling the Judge's affairs and holdings, one Mrs. Ritchie demands her safety deposit box. When it can be returned to her, it cannot be found. Mrs. Ritchie accuses the Judge's apprentice Toby Clark of stealing the box. After a beaten up box and some papers from it are found in and around Toby's home, he is arrested.

Phoebe and the Darings—Phil Daring is away at college—cannot believe that Toby would have done such a thing, even if he is a poor boy who was crippled while helping the Darings recover their fortunes. The younger Darings get together "The Toby Clark Marching Club," consisting of other children who believe in Toby's innocence, hoping to sway public opinion of Toby.

Phoebe and "little mother" Judith conspire to find out who really committed the crime, because if Toby's innocent, then surely someone else did the deed. Phoebe handles detective work remarkably well, asking questions, checking around for clues and information. By the time some "evidence" turns up that seems to indicate Toby definitely stole the box, Phoebe is sure he didn't do it and is on the trail of discovering the true criminal!

We also discover another relative of the Darings: Cousin John, the state governor. (So... where was he during the last book?) He winds up being quite influential in helping Phoebe find out what happened to Mrs. Ritchie's box.

There is, of course, a happy ending for all, and Toby gets a surprise that has become common for Baum's non-fantasy heroes and heroines. I wish I could go indepth about these recurring concepts, but I'm afraid of dropping too many spoilers. Perhaps some other time.

Baum kept up his regular enjoyable writing style, even when not much is going on in the plot, he keeps it from dragging. Still, Baum falls onto his old tropes a bit too much and with this being the last of his novels that I've read, so I'm hesitant to put it with his best.

On the other hand, if Hungry Tiger Press can finally get their new edition published, I'm totally buying it.

Friday, June 21, 2013

Baum's Road to Oz: The Dakota Years

This little book might not look like much, and some casual Oz fans might not be interested at all. What it is a collection of two essays by Michael Patrick Hearn and Nancy Tystad Koupal about Baum's life in Aberdeen, South Dakota.

This time in the frontier is believed to be one of the most critical influences on Baum's later life, and Koupal believes that it is one of the most misunderstood sections of Baum's life due to how under-documented it is.

Hearn takes us to the baseball diamond in "The Wizard Behind The Plate" as he examines the baseball phenomenon during Baum's time in Aberdeen, including Baum's own contribution to it and the earliest connections of Oz and baseball.

Following it is a selected number of verse by Baum about baseball.

Next up is Koupal's extensive essay about Baum's interest in Spiritualism and his writing during Aberdeen, examining the times and Baum's activities extensively, putting it all in context. Following this is a generous selection of Baum's work from The Aberdeen Saturday Pioneer.

Mark I. West examines "The Dakota Fairy Tales of L. Frank Baum," looking at stories from Animal Fairy Tales and Twinkle and Chubbins that deal with distinctly Dakota-based settings and themes. Following this is Baum's story "The Discontented Gopher."

Almost a hidden Easter egg in the book is the Appendix. It's listed as an "Appendix" in the table of contents, but when you get to it, it's the essay "What Children Want" by Baum himself, in which he discusses what he believes children ask for in their stories. I think he gets many points right: the blatantly moralized story from childhood is forgotten in the splendid wonder tale they enjoyed.

It dates from November 1902, and contains a good piece of evidence that Baum wasn't really incensed against W.W. Denslow after they parted ways. He writes that "I am not sure that the great modern illustrators of children's books, such as Peter Newell, Oliver Herford, Fanny Y. Cory, and W.W. Denslow, are not worthy as much as much love and reverence as the great story-writers themselves." (Cory also illustrated The Master Key and later The Enchanted Island of Yew for Baum.)

Baum's Road to Oz: The Dakota Years seems to be out of print, and is going for over $30 on any site I can find. However, for anyone wanting to read up on Baum's life, I'd highly recommend this one.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

The Non-Fiction of L. Frank Baum

It's no secret that L. Frank Baum is mainly known for his fiction. However, he wrote non-fiction as well. During his early years, he wrote and published a little newspaper for the neighborhood, The Roselawn Home Journal, and later bought a new press and began a new little paper called The Empire and a circular called The Stamp Collector. The three non-fiction books found in Baum's bibliography all take after some of his hobbies or methods which he'd written of before in periodicals.

His first book, Baum's Complete Stamp Dealers Directory (1873, he was about 17 at the time), was the result of The Stamp Collector. Unfortunately, I have not been able to see a copy of any type, so I cannot tell you anything other than it was his first book, intended to aid stamp collectors by listing dealers.

We're more lucky with what is more widely considered his first substantial book: The Book of the Hamburgs. Books of Wonder issued a reprint in hardcover and paperback and a print on demand edition is now available that is seems to be identical to it. Archive.org also has a complete version scanned available for downloading and viewing online.

The book appeared in 1886, and was a result of Baum's magazine The Poultry Record, which was published during the 1870s. I've seen claims that the book is an edited version of excerpts from the magazine, but I can't attest to that. It does seem to flow very well.

The book focuses on the care and breeding of the hamburg variety of chickens, particularly in efforts to create good-looking fowl to win prizes. This stemmed from Baum's own chicken farming, which many believe is what makes Billina in Ozma of Oz such a successfully executed character.

The final of Baum's non-fiction books is a result of his magazine The Show Window. As part of his brief stint as a traveling salesman, Baum offered advice for decorating windows of dry goods stores. His advice worked, so he created the magazine to assist store owners to decorate their windows quite attractively. The resulting book was titled The Art of Decorating Dry Goods Windows and Interiors.

Although the book has not been reprinted, it has gained notoriety because it was published in 1900, the same year The Wonderful Wizard of Oz was published. After that, Baum never produced another book of non-fiction, aside from editing his wife's book In Other Lands Than Ours.

In Hamburgs, Baum speaks with a voice of professional, authoritative experience, and I should not be surprised to find the same voice in the other two books. (That is, if Baum's Complete Stamp Dealers Directory isn't just a list of where to get collectible stamps in 1873.) It is a very different voice than we see in his works of fiction, but it is still a friendly one all the same.

Monday, June 10, 2013

How "Dot and Tot" ended it

In 1901, Baum and Denslow produced their third major collaboration. (I have not counted The Songs of Father Goose as I consider this a spin-off of Father Goose: His Book.) When it came to creating children's books, it was their last collaboration.

If you asked anyone to name Baum's best fantasies, chances are they would not mention Dot and Tot of Merryland. While it's an enjoyable fantasy, its lack of an antagonist and the fact that it's only travelogue are the book's biggest weaknesses.

But in this series of books by Baum and Denslow, it wasn't just Baum's text that made the book, the item that people would buy. While Dot and Tot did sell, it wasn't a comparable success to Father Goose: His Book or The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.
So, how did the book look? Well, before we begin, I'd better tell you that my copy of the book with Denslow's illustrations is not an original edition. It's an early Bobbs-Merrill reprint that used green ink instead of a light rusty color. It's similar enough, but the printing (look at the Queen's face above) may not have been quite on register. (From what I've seen, George Hill's company was really good about that.) I'm also running these through Photoshop. As such, the colors look bolder than they do in the book.

The above seven pages are typical of the illustrations throughout the book. While Denslow does fine work, the main use of color was printing the illustrations in three colors: black, green (a rusty color in the original edition) and red. There were no color plates.

The main issue is that Father Goose: His Book had an innovative design. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz had an innovative design. Both of these books inspired new formats for children's books. Dot and Tot of Merryland did not. The color design was too similar to Oz, and since it used three inks, that made the chance for misalignment of the plates higher than Oz. And it didn't help that Baum was turning out better fantasies in his other two 1901 titles: American Fairy Tales and The Master Key.

The problem with the illustrations is that if they were reproduced in black and white (just about the only way it could be cost-effectively reproduced), the effect of the different colors would be spoiled, and only recently has the technology arrived that could separate the color signatures from each other. However, no one has yet attempted a reprint with the original Denslow illustrations. Books of Wonder issued a new edition in the early 1990s with new illustrations by Donald Abbot, which are all right, but Denslow's are much more attractive. It was much easier to re-illustrate the book than reproduce the original pictures. Google offers an on-demand reprint of the version they have in their system, but I would not expect a very good looking book. Any other editions in print only use the text, unless someone takes the time and effort to make sure the pictures reproduce well.

While Dot and Tot is a fun and handsome book on its own, when compared to the previous books in the Baum/Denslow partnership (and just about all of Baum's other fantasies), it is sadly lacking. And even sadder, that is where the tradition of this legendary author and a fantastic illustrator producing wonderful children's books together ends.

Baum decided to refocus. Putting out multiple books a year was literally competing with himself, so beginning in 1902 and going on through 1910, only one book was published under the name "L. Frank Baum" a year. (The exception being The Woggle-Bug Book and Queen Zixi of Ix in 1905.) Later, Reilly & Britton would afford him the luxury of pseudonyms to sell more books without this issue.

Denslow was also looking into launching a solo career. The two realized that they really didn't need each other. As such, they parted ways, Baum turning out fantasies that would soon become the famous Oz books. Denslow produced a series of picture books that only recently came back into print thanks to Denslow's connection to Oz.

Baum and Denslow would later work together on The Wizard of Oz musical extravaganza, Baum writing the script and Denslow designing the costumes and sets, but the end result of that led to Baum vowing to never work with Denslow again when Denslow asked for a larger portion of the royalties. (To be fair, his production designs were likely used more than Baum's original script and Paul Tietjens' music.)

In 1904, Denslow used the Scarecrow and Tin Woodman of Oz to create a comic strip, Denslow's Scarecrow and Tin-Man, but I've told about that elsewhere. Baum regretted jointly copyrighting his books and characters with Denslow, and made sure to hold the copyright on his future work himself.

Thursday, June 06, 2013

Why "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" sold

When we look at The Wonderful Wizard of Oz today, we often look at what made Baum's story work so well. While this is a perfectly valid assessment, it was only part of why the book became such a huge success. A big reason for its success comes from looking at the original edition of the book. (Or a reproduction thereof since not everyone can get their hands on an original.)

The way L. Frank Baum and W.W. Denslow designed the book was rather elaborate. Since the book was a novel and not a picture book like Father Goose: His Book, they found a new way to mix the text, illustrations and color.

The design involved multiple colored inks as well as black, not to mention twenty four color plates. There would be sections of the illustration printed in black and sections printed in color ink that would appear under the text. Furthermore, the color of the ink would change with each location of the story. A dull brown for Kansas:
Blue for the Munchkin Country:
Bright red for the poppy field:
Green for the Emerald City and the surrounding country:
A dark yellow for the Winkie Country:
A ruddy brown for the south country:
And red again for the domain of Glinda:
Not only was this an inventive use of color, it actually made color work with the storytelling, once again creating a union in color, text and illustration to create a lavish book for children. Not only was the story delightful, the way the book looked made it a popular item.

Denslow's illustrations are also to thank. Although his Dorothy doesn't look quite so girlish, she is not ugly and the rest of the characters are very charming. Denslow also doesn't draw the giant spider or the Wizard's form as a monstrous beast, and the Wicked Witch of the West has been given some comical details to soften her character. (The umbrella, eyepatch and pickaninny pigtails.)

No child would have nightmares from Oz. No chapter ends with a cruel beast or witch coming after Dorothy, and if there is bloodshed, it is not dwelled on. Denslow's pictures only help accentuate Baum's storytelling.

The Hill Company was once again hesitant to publish Oz, but Baum and Denslow decided to put their royalties from Father Goose: His Book into helping defray production costs, a gamble that paid off very well. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz remained in print until the Hill Company closed.

The plates and rights for Baum's books were bought up by the Bobbs-Merrill Company who issued a number of Baum's later books until Reilly & Britton came onto the scene. Following the success of The Wizard of Oz stage extravaganza, Bobbs-Merrill redesigned the book. It still used interior color and Denslow created some new artwork for it, including a new title page and endapers, but it was not quite as lavish as the original edition.

Perhaps the difference in design was why the original Bobbs-Merrill edition was called The New Wizard of Oz. Shortly after, Bobbs-Merrill changed the title to simply The Wizard of Oz, a name the book was published under for a very long time. In fact, it does not appear that the word Wonderful was added back to the title until after the book went into public domain.

Later editions of the Bobbs-Merrill Wizard of Oz became even simpler, interior color quickly being dropped to keep the cost of reprinting it low. Eventually, this led to the first re-illustrating by Evelyn Copelman, which opened the door to other artists creating new illustrations. While many fine artists have put their talents to Oz, none have matched the same charm Denslow produced when he and L. Frank Baum designed a novel for children that would never give them nightmares. Although John R. Neill would later succeed Denslow as illustrator for Oz and created amazing artwork, the fact remains that he never had the same relationship with Baum as Denslow did. While many have wished that Neill had re-illustrated Wizard, sometimes, I feel it is best that he left the book alone.

The original edition of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is indeed the most lavish the book had ever looked, and it is rather easy to contest that this is how author and illustrator wanted the book to look. The beautiful volume delighted many eyes in 1900 with the colorful pictures and a wonderful story. It was Denslow's success just as much as Baum's for creating such a great book.

Tuesday, June 04, 2013

Father Goose: His Book

So, Baum and W.W. Denslow were friends and decided to collaborate on a book of poetry for children. Then they decided not to just make a plain book of verse with illustrations, every page would contain pictures in color, Baum's verse being beautifully hand-lettered by their friend Ralph Fletcher Seymour, who would receive a lump sum for his services.

After assembling a publisher's dummy, the book was a hard sell to publishers. Such a lavish book for children was unheard of. Finally, Baum and Denslow considered publishing the book themselves, when finally the George Hill Company offered to take the project, provided Baum and Denslow help pay for production costs.

The investment was worth it, and Father Goose: His Book became the biggest selling children's book of 1899, going through a second printing by the year's end, making author and illustrator famous.

Father Goose: His Book wasn't just another children's book, it actually changed the concept of children's books. While highly illustrated books for children were not unheard of, such a lavish marriage of text, illustration and color was a new concept, one that would quickly become adopted. Much of Denslow's later output would be such books.

You would think that Father Goose would still be a popular and often reprinted book due to that, but no, after many editions by Hill and later the Bobbs-Merrill Company, the book was not reissued. The high use of color would reproduce badly if, say, Scholar's Facsimiles and Reprints had attempted it in black and white. A similar problem prevented smaller companies such as The International Wizard of Oz Club from reprinting it. As for the mainstream market, some of Baum's verse—innocent in its day—was no longer politically correct. As a result, while Father Goose became famous in its day, its verses quickly fell out of popularity and never reached the same classic status as the Mother Goose rhymes.

I once ventured to borrow Father Goose through interlibrary loan and wound up with a second edition for a few weeks. Although the spine was gone, the book still stood up after over a century. (This was about 2002.) I managed to make photocopies of it in black and white for future reference. Although I enjoyed looking at it, I was quite relieved when I returned the book to the library: the valuable old book was out of my hands and on its way back home.

Luckily in 2009, Marcus Mebes was able to use two copies of the book to scan and create a new print-on-demand edition through his Pumpernickel Pickle imprint on Lulu. He made it available in both color and black and white, both versions in hardcover and paperback, as well as a free PDF download. I was one of the first people to buy a copy, going for a color paperback edition.

Having seen an original Hill copy, I can tell that the new edition is reduced in size, but no details seem to be lost. The cover has been recolored to be quite striking, but all of the interior art is still in its original coloring, and there is an additional page showing the original cover and the endpaper artwork.

There are other editions that use only the text of Baum's poems, but as the book is historical for Denslow's work as well, I generally ignore their existence. Denslow was every bit as important to this project as Baum, and viewing it only for Baum's work is unfair.

Baum writes in his introduction:
There is a fascination in the combination of jingling verse and bright pictures that always appeals strongly to children. The ancient "Mother Goose Book" had these qualities, and for nearly two centuries the cadences of its rhymes have lingered in the memories of men and women who learned them in childhood.

The author and illustrator of "Father Goose" have had no intent to imitate or parody the famous verse and pictures of "Mother Goose." They own to having followed, in modern fashion, the plan of the book that pleased children ages ago--and still pleases them. These are newer jingles and pictures for children of to-day, and intended solely to supplement the nursery rhymes of our ancestors.
 But the reason for a Father Goose is made clear in the first verse, dripping with Baum humor:
Old Mother Goose became quite new,
And joined a Woman`s Club;
She left poor Father Goose at home
To care for Sis and Bub.

They called for stories by the score,
And laughed and cried to hear
All of the queer and merry songs
That in this book appear.

When Mother Goose at last returned
For her there was no use;
The goslings much preferred to hear
The tales of FATHER GOOSE.
 Baum introduces many fun characters in his verses: many children, the Goose who lived in Syracuse, Mr. Green, Mr. Jinks, and Mr. Hickory. Writing simple verses for children, Baum is at better form than he was in By the Candelabra's Glare. He even humorously retells the story of George Washington and the Cherry Tree, ending it with a twist in which young George chops down another cherry tree and admits to it to avoid another spanking, but his father administers it anyway and sells George's hatchet.

As mentioned, some of Baum's verses are not politically correct. Mentions of Aborigines, a Hindu girl, Aunt Dinah's rejection of a sailor because he lived in China once are all at odds with what we would let our children read today. Most infamous is the poem "The Little Nigger Boy." While the term was generally accepted as standard language at the time, it began as—and continues to be—a derogatory term. If it wasn't for the fact that Denslow clearly drew an African-American boy, it could have easily been changed to "The Little Foolish Boy" without harm to the verse. These seven verses, in the eyes of being politically correct, mar an otherwise fine book and were one of the reasons why it was out of print for so long. The odd thing is, it was actually rare for a children's book to depict such characters in 1899.

Denslow is also at fine form here. While Maud Baum once claimed that Denslow could not draw a child-like child, here he draws children much more successfully than he did in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Some aren't as good as others, though. Just about all of his characters seem funny and quaint. Surely not even the imposing Bandit or Captain Bing could give a child nightmares!

Even over a hundred years later, the appeal of Father Goose: His Book is still very evident. And it is very important to the history of Oz, because without it making Baum and Denslow a famous duo, we would probably not have had The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, at least, not as it first appeared.

By the Candelabra's Glare

L. Frank Baum wrote verse all of his life. In his earliest publishing endeavors, he wrote verse for the newspapers he printed himself as a child.

In 1898, Baum was living in Chicago and had made many connections with local businesses, particularly with his current publishing project: a magazine called The Show Window. He decided to ask for some favors and assemble his own book of verse that he would print himself.

In his basement, Baum set the type on his own printing press and turned out ninety-nine copies of By The Candelabra's Glare, his first book of original verse. The copies were given as gifts.
The book has proved particularly elusive due to its age and highly limited availability. In 1983, Scholar's Facsimiles and Reprints issued a photo-facsimile. This is now out of print and rather high priced. In 2008, Marcus Mebes issued a new edition through his Pumpernickel Pickle imprint. While I typically consider resetting the text a good thing, in this case, some might want to seek out a Scholar's edition to see Baum's original typesetting. However, if you want to read the poems and see all the pictures, Marcus' edition works fine.

I've read the book twice before, and there are some very memorable poems indeed, but on my latest re-read, I noticed that Baum really wasn't a great poet. Sometimes his attempts at rhyming don't work or feels cloying. This isn't that it's bad, but Baum's verse works much better in small doses.

Baum is humorous and light here. The foreword tells us how a book of poetry should have an "excuse" for it. The verses are in four sections: "Semi-Sentimental Verse," "Cycling Verse," "Unassorted Verse," and "Children's Verse."

"Semi-Sentimental Verse" deals with love and Baum's admiration of women and most of these are fairly sweet. "Cycling Verse" all involves bicycling, often using very humorous situations.

As suggested by the title, "Unassorted Verse" offers a grab bag of Baum's poetry. The first poem "Johnson" tells a story that Baum may have later expanded into an unpublished (and now lost) novel: a stranger comes to town, going only by "Johnson." When a baby is left in a burning house, Johnson sacrifices his own life to save it, and after he is buried and remembered as a hero, a detective comes to town asking about a murderer on the run. When his photograph is shown, they realize it was Johnson. If this was the case, the loss of the novel version is very sad.
Other verses in this section deal with the advancement of women in society, a true story about farmers on hard times and a couple of Baum's favorite things, told in his humorous fashion.

Likely one of the most controversial pieces is "The Heretic." Using a good-natured country type, Baum observes how "
Each churchman 's pluggin' fer himself, An' cares fer nothin' more If he can only land at last Upon the golden shore." It concludes that "This selfish Christianity Ain't good enough fer me!" The so-called heretic doesn't see the point of Christianity from the people he sees who go to church. While some find a criticism of Christian beliefs offensive no matter the point, Baum's words are surprisingly yet accurate.

The final section "Children's Verse" is a prelude to Baum's first major book, Father Goose: His Book. Three of the verses reappear in altered form in Father Goose, and one of the non-Goose poems—"The Greedy Goldfish"—was a big prelude to Father Goose because of who illustrated it.
 
By the Candelabra's Glare featured the artwork of eight Chicago artists illustrating selected poems. "The Greedy Goldfish" (to the right) and the "semi-sentimental" "My Quandary" (above) were illustrated by one William Wallace Denslow, with whom Baum would soon enter a partnership, turning out Father Goose, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and Dot and Tot of Merryland.

Perhaps the poetry of By the Candelabra's Glare will never be recognized as great American literature, but the raw personality of Baum comes through here. A fan of Oz who wants to know more about Baum should at least give a look and any fan of Baum's works should definitely read it. Even though the poetry isn't the best, you'd be hard pressed to not pick out a few favorites after a reading.

Friday, May 31, 2013

Mother Goose in Prose

I once tried to preserve the covers
on my paperbacks by taping the
corners and spines. This is an
example of when that didn't work.
 In the late 1890s, Matilda Gage was visiting her daughter and son-in-law in Chicago. As part of the evening rituals, her son-in-law would tell stories to his four sons.

One night, she listened in astonishment as he told a Mother Goose rhyme, and then when the boys asked about the meaning of the rhyme, he told a fanciful story explaining the rhyme in full detail.

After the story concluded, Matilda exclaimed, "Frank Baum, you're a darned fool if you don't write those stories down!"

And, according to Baum family tradition, that is how L. Frank Baum came to write children's books, which proved to be his biggest success, particularly with Oz.

Baum was set to have two books published by Way & Williams of Chicago: Mother Goose in Prose and The King of Phunnyland. They took the more marketable title and published it in 1897, but just a bit too late for the Christmas rush, though the book was otherwise well-received. (Phunnyland, considered to be the first children's book that Baum wrote, did not see print until 1900 as A New Wonderland, and was later revised into The Magical Monarch of Mo in 1903.)

Also having his first time on a children's book was artist Maxfield Parrish. Unlike many of Baum's later illustrators, Parrish was much more sparing in the number of illustrations. Baum has twenty-two stories in the book, Parrish has twelve full-page illustrations, in addition to the title page, a chapter heading design, and the cover design. Parrish's work is whimsical when needed (check out out Humpty Dumpty and the little man with the little gun), but his attempts to make people look funny seem at odds with his normal style. His depictions of Little Bo Peep, Little Boy Blue, and the Black Sheep and the little boy who lived down the lane are likely his best works in the book.

Unusual for Baum is a very informative foreword about where the name "Mother Goose" came from. It's very interesting stuff, but has little relevance to the book at hand. Baum's later introductions usually got the reader ready for the story.

In most editions in print, the introduction carries the date 1899. I am informed that this corresponds to the first British edition and later American printings. The correct date of 1897 appeared in the original edition.

I have three versions of Mother Goose in Prose in hard copy in my collection. The first I acquired was the 2002 reprint by Dover Publications (top), while the second is just Baum's stories and Parrish's illustrations in the International Wizard of Oz Club's The Collected Short Stories of L. Frank Baum. The third is an earlier hardcover reprint by Bounty Books which I acquired last year. It was this same edition (but not the same copy, of course) that I checked out through interlibrary loan and first read probably eleven or twelve years ago.

Both the Bounty and Dover editions are pretty much the same inside, both photo facsimiles of the second edition by the George M. Hill Company from 1901. After the success of Father Goose: His Book and The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Hill brought Baum's first children's book back into print. As a result, it says 1899 on the introduction. After the Hill Company went bankrupt, the Bobbs-Merill Company bought the plates and issued new editions as well. Since the book is now public domain, there's a wealth of plain-text print on demand editions available. Don't worry, I always try to point out the good ones.

The presentation of the stories in the Club's edition actually matches how I thought the stories should look if they were reset in new type. On the Hill edition, two to three pages extra are used for each story. A leaf just before the story has a design of two jesters holding a board with the story's title on it. The reverse side of the leaf is blank. If the story ahead of it ended on the right hand page, an additional blank page appears before the next chapter. The Club wisely used the jester design as a chapter heading instead. Thus, I'd almost recommend just getting the Club's book if all you want is Baum's works, if it wasn't for the fact that it drops Baum's introduction.

Most of Baum's stories seem to have a distinct European setting. Some of the stories could have just as easily been set in America, but Baum decided to remain with the stories' origin, with one notable exception.

Each story has the Mother Goose rhyme that it's based on at the beginning. If the rhyme has several verses (like "Little Bo Peep"), just the most famous verse is used, though Baum deftly uses the rest in the story itself.

The stories are quite delightful on their own. We discover what was up with a song of sixpence and a handful of rye and how twenty four blackbirds were baked into a pie but were still able to sing once the pie was opened. (The later verses were not explained, so luckily, no one loses their nose.) Why was Little Boy Blue asleep? How did a cow jump over the moon? What was the story of Mistress Mary's flower garden?

Even when the verse seems to tell a complete story, Baum manages to flesh the characters out enough. Some of the best are "Sing a Song o' Sixpence," "The Story of Little Boy Blue," "The Black Sheep," "Mistress Mary," "The Jolly Miller," and "The Three Wise Men of Gotham."

One of the most inventive is the story of the Little Old Woman who lived in a shoe. In a rare case, Baum actually draws how her house looked.

Probably the funniest story is also the zaniest: "The Man in the Moon" features the Man in the Moon leaving his home to visit Norwich and burning his mouth by eating cold pease porridge, because what is hot to us is cold to him and what is cold to us is hot to him. As a forerunner to Oz, the Man returns to the Moon in a hot-air balloon.

The story "Old King Cole" tells how King Cole became king, and those familiar with Queen Zixi of Ix will recognize the plot device of the next king being chosen almost at random.

The biggest nod to Baum's future writings is in the last story: "Little Bun Rabbit." I am unfamiliar with the verse, but the biggest part of it is that it features a little girl on a farm named Dorothy. Some fans go so far as to consider this Dorothy to be the Dorothy, and I admit, I have thought of how it could work. I discussed the story in further detail here. This is also the story that seems to be the most American in its setting. (The image of a young Dorothy lying in the grass carefully watching a rabbit seems to be one that I just can't shake from my mind.)

At any rate, Mother Goose in Prose was a safe start for Baum in the children's book market, though not a successful one. The book itself is worth reading for Baum's first book of fiction and a wonderful little piece on its own.

The Dover edition appears to be out of print, but here is its listing on Amazon. If you want to try searching elsewhere, its ISBN is 0-486-42086-8.
The Bounty Books edition. Its ISBN is 0-517-519046
Amazon will link you to other editions, but I cannot attest to those.
The Collected Short Stories of L. Frank Baum from the International Wizard of Oz Club (remember, the introduction has been omitted)
A free ebook version is available from Project Gutenberg, while Archive.org has two different scans available in a variety of forms. Version 1Version 2

Sunday, May 26, 2013

The Daring Twins

After The Emerald City of Oz, L. Frank Baum did a surprising turn in 1911: alongside The Sea Fairies was a non-fantasy book titled The Daring Twins. Baum had turned out non-fantasy juvenile novels before, but they had been under pseudonyms. The Daring Twins was the first to be released under his own name.

Baum did not want to be known just for Oz, so he decided to expand his output, but his audience preferred his fantasies, especially Oz. The Daring Twins and its sequel Phoebe Daring did not prove popular enough to continue the series for a third volume, despite Baum beginning a third one.

Hungry Tiger Press reprinted The Daring Twins as one of the first entries in its Pawprint Adventure Series. Apparently, interest in the title wasn't high enough to spur the reprint of the sequel. David Maxine plans to do it, eventually, but as a business owner, he does have to give a thought as to what it is selling. As a result, Phoebe Daring is the only published Baum novel I haven't yet read.

Along with a handsome repackaging, the book got a new title: The Secret of the Lost Fortune: A Daring Twins Mystery. The retitling was done to make the title sound more appealing to new readers, and I agree that it does tease the story better. The text also saw a small, very minor revision which was noted on the copyright page. A re-occurrence of "the N-word" (which was regrettably too common in Baum's day) appeared in the original edition when talking about native African tribes. In the Hungry Tiger Press edition, it was replaced by "savages." The statement it is used in is not a pretty one, but now it's just a little more racially sensitive. It is not used by any of the protagonists, but rather secondary characters, particularly a couple who clearly need a lesson in humility, though the story doesn't offer it.

The orphaned Daring children—twins Phoebe and Phil, Don, Sue, and Becky—have a curious living arrangement. They live in the same house as their grandfather Jonathan Eliot, but due to his wishes (he had quarreled with their father), half of the house is sealed off from them and reserved for his use. He is paralyzed and is tended by his longtime servant Elaine Halliday.

The children have no guardian aside from their "black mammy" Aunt Hyacinth, who at first seems like a regrettable stereotype. (Baum has her speak in stereotypical dialect, spelled phonetically.) In the seventh chapter, their cousin Judith Eliot arrives and they mutually adopt each other as "little mother" and children.

The first six chapters find Phil Daring realizing that the family has little to no means of support, and inquiring with his father's lawyer, discovers that their inheritance was long since spent. The lawyer encourages him to finish school, though Phil thinks it better to find a job right away. Inquiring further, he discovers that Aunt Hyacinth has been using her savings from her pay to support the children: she is actually under no obligation to do so aside from the love she has for the children. And then Phil discovers that Phoebe has been renting a typewriter to do copying to earn money. After he graduates, he manages to fill a position at the local bank. By chapter eight, they manage to support the family very well between the three of them.

Judith has to demand an additional room from Elaine, and her grandfather seems aware enough of her presence to allow it. However, Phoebe suggests they exchange rooms, and realizes that her new room is right next to Elaine's room. On certain nights, Phoebe hears odd sounds coming from Elaine's room. What is going on?

At the bank, Phil notices that Eric Spaythe, a superior to him and son of the bank's owner, appears to be altering deposits for customers, apparently embezzling the money. Eric soon realizes that Phil is looking over his shoulder and when he needs to repay some gambling debts, Phil realizes that Eric is scheming to steal some money and pin the blame on him!

And finally, the young Daring children meet the new neighbors, the Randolphs, who have moved into their old house not far from where they live.

And surprisingly, Baum takes all three of these storylines and wraps them into one of his most satisfying conclusions.

Honestly, The Daring Twins is one of Baum's best non-fantasy books. There is plenty of intrigue, though no exactly high adventure and life-threatening stakes. But that's just fine, because we don't need "Our heroes face certain death!" all the time to have a good story. It comes from a great time in Baum's writing career when he wanted to be decidedly different, and this was one case where he definitely rose to the occasion.

Get your copy from Hungry Tiger Press.