The Wizard of Oz is undoubtedly one of the greatest of America’s cultural icons. In addition to its fame as a classic of pop culture, the film is also considered among the greatest cinematic works of all time. For example, The Wizard of Oz was selected in 1989 by the U.S. Library of Congress as one of the first 25 films for preservation in the National Film Registry, a designation reserved for motion pictures of determined to be “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.”
Beyond that, iconic status of The Wizard of Oz has not been limited to the United States, as it’s also one of the few films on UNESCO’s Memory of the World Register, a global directory of cultural works of “world significance and outstanding universal value.” The movie’s global impact is certainly supported by my own informal research as well. As someone who often uses films to illustrate mythic and archetypal themes in my counseling work, I can say that regardless of where in the world clients grew up, I have encountered very few who have not experienced the Wizard of Oz at some point during their young lives.
This classic film, produced by Metro Goldwyn Mayer in 1939, is based on L. Frank Baum’s equally enduring children’s fantasy novel The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. While the novel has been a staple of children’s literature since its initial publication in 1900 and countless millions have seen the film over the past 82 years, few people know how much the story of Dorothy Gale’s adventures in Oz mirrors the life experience of Baum himself. Indeed, The Wizard of Oz, apart from being a timeless tale of fantasy and imagination, also represents the personal mythology of its creator.
Born in 1856, less than 70 years after the founding of the United States, L. Frank Baum was raised in relative luxury, the son of man who typified that quintessential American archetype, the “Self-made Man.” While Baum’s father was a successful entrepreneur in variety of businesses, including oil and real estate, his rather dreamy, imaginative son would encounter a seemingly endless stream of commercial failures before finding success as an author. Over a period of 25 years, Baum spectacularly failed at being a chicken farmer, a traveling actor and playwright, seller of lubricants for machinery, a purveyor of novelty goods, and a newspaper publisher.
Despite his many business failings, Baum never let go of his vocation to be a writer, whether writing commercial catalogs, newspaper stories and advertisements, or plays. Finally, one day in 1898, Baum found himself gripped by a sequence of powerful images: a gray and dusty Kansas prairie, a spirited little girl with a plucky little dog, a terrifying tornado, a road made of yellow bricks stretching into the distance, a magical land ruled by good and wicked witches, a trio of companions comprised of a scarecrow, a tin man, and a faint-hearted lion, and city made of emeralds ruled by a mysterious wizard. Indeed, Baum later wrote, it was as if the story were writing itself out of his own life experience and inner dreams and he completed the first draft of Oz in a matter of months.
Only with the gift of hindsight could Baum recognize how these images as well as both the novel’s bright optimism and darker qualities drew on so many elements in his own life story and deeply held beliefs. From the highway made of yellow bricks that went past his childhood home to the bleak, desolate prairies of Kansas where Baum and his wife Maud spent a dreary season with his failing theatrical troupe, Baum’s imagination repurposed images and scenes from his own biography in the creation of the Oz story.
For example, the figure of the Wizard was based on three sources: Baum’s fascination with the shameless showman P.T. Barnum; his deeply critical view of John D, Rockefeller, then the most powerful business magnate in the country; and finally his deep admiration for the inventor Thomas Alva Edison, also known as the “Wizard of Menlo Park.” The combination of these three figures resulting in a character who combined the razzle-dazzle of Barnum, the commanding, yet callous, power of Rockefeller, and the endlessly inventive genius of Edison. Indeed, it was Edison’s sensational and revolutionary electrical displays at the 1898 Chicago World’s Fair that inspired the Baum’s vision of the Emerald City. To protect their eyes from the unfamiliar brightness of the electrical displays, fairgoers purchased colored eyeshades, green being Baum’s favorite.
As for naming his heroine Dorothy, Baum initially intended it to be a gesture of comfort and support for Maud, who was grieving the death of the infant daughter of her brother. Even though the baby, whose name was Dorothy, had tragically died of a brain fever when she was only five months old, Maud had already developed a deep bond with this infant girl. Having raised five sons, Dorothy had immediately become the daughter she would never have. Naming the central character of the Oz story after Maud’s niece was a way of imagining a life for this child who would never have a chance to grow up and experience adventures of her own.
As for source material for the witches of Oz, Baum drew on his experience of his mother-in-law, Matilda Joslyn Gage, one of the most famous suffragists and women’s rights activists in the country. A formidable figure in her own right, Gage was also a close associate and speech writer for Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. Initially disapproving of Baum’s marriage to Maud, who had sacrificed her education at Cornell University to marry him, Gage later came to admire his pluck, imagination, and determination and became one of his strongest supporters as a writer. Being a figure of both wonder and fear for Baum, Gage served as the inspiration for both the Good Witch of the North and Wicked Witch of the West.
More importantly, Gage introduced Baum to the religious and philosophical system known as Theosophy. Founded in 1875 by psychic and spiritual teacher Helena Blavatsky, Theosophy is one of the sources which would later give rise to the spiritual movement known as “New Age.” Seeking to combine insights from Western Science with Eastern mysticism, Theosophy optimistically encouraged its adherents to seek wisdom from many traditions as well their own inner knowing.
Particularly significant with regard to The Wizard of Oz, is Theosophy’s recognition – derived from a variety of Eastern traditions, especially Hinduism — of three centers of intelligence: a mental center based in the head; an emotional center based in the center of the chest; and an energetic center based in the abdomen. These three centers were associated, respectively, with what Theosophy called “the path of Wisdom” “the path of Compassion,” and “the path of Courageous Action.” Of course, it doesn’t require much insight to recognize that Dorothy’s three famous traveling companions on her adventures each represent a manifestation of one of these three paths to enlightenment.
Like his heroine Dorothy, L. Frank Baum struggled for much of his life to find his “Oz.” After years of failure and disappointment, this man who endlessly sought outlets for his prodigious imagination and natural optimism, found them in a vivid and life-altering flash of inspiration at the age of 44. Never one to give up on life or it’s endless possibilities, Baum created what can accurately be described as the “Great American Fairy Tale,” one not based in far-away kingdoms and old traditions, but one extending from the Heartland of America to an entirely new kind of fantasy realm.
Most importantly, like all Heroes at the end of their Heroic Journeys, Baum found his version of the Elixir of Life – found it in a story about a courageous girl named Dorothy and her marvelous adventures in a land called Oz — and then returned to share this timeless gift with all of us. Indeed, as a gay man living near San Francisco, I often hear echoes of Baum’s gift in the lives of all the gay men who arrived here before me, saying in wonder, like Dorothy, “Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore!”