Fantasy World
The Wizard of Oz is a grotesque predictor of Trump’s America.
It says so here, in the Guardian. Specifically,
Oz is first wondrous and revelatory, then sinister and suspect, a good trip that goes wrong… It’s this lurking inner wrongness, the darkness at its edges and the emptiness at its core, that speaks to me now.
The author of the above is Bidisha, a mono-named entity who may be familiar to long-term readers, and who describes herself, unironically, as a “non-white angry political female.” One who seems determined to find yet another staple of Christmas both ghastly and problematic:
It’s impossible to watch the newly crowned ‘most influential film ever’ without seeing the parallels to the sickly US of today.
Oh, ye doubters. Madame Bidisha has her reasons.
We can read the catastrophic effects of climate change into the tornado that sets the narrative off,
I didn’t say they would be convincing.
see the opioid crisis in the characters’ drugged sleep in Oz’s Powell and Pressburger-esque poppy field, and empathise with the mangy Lion, rusty Tin Man and under-stuffed Scarecrow’s search for organ donors and reliable medical support in an Oz without a solid welfare state.
If you think our Guardian columnist is perhaps overreaching a tad, I feel I should point out nothing that follows is likely to disabuse you.
The values of Oz are not much different from those of Kansas in 1900 or 1939 or 2018. Yes, the Wicked Witch of the West has all the best lines… but the film revels in the violent deaths of “ugly” women, who have houses dumped on them or drown in water that melts them like acid, while the greatest deceiver, the Wizard, simply shrugs and floats away at the end of the film.
At which point, The Lady Bidisha shifts gear from the merely implausible to the inscrutable and bewildering. Perhaps we’re to believe that the values of modern-day Kansas include revelling in the deaths of unglamorous women, specifically as a result of tornado-propelled houses. Or perhaps this is a tortured metaphor, in which, viewing the prospect of a Hillary Clinton presidency with insufficient enthusiasm is explicable only as near-homicidal misogyny. By all means read the original and have a go yourselves. Either way, it occurs to me that if you’re watching The Wizard of Oz and you instantly think of Donald Trump, and indeed find it “impossible” not to think of Donald Trump, a man you contrive to associate with women melting in acid, then… well, perhaps you should take a holiday somewhere quiet. Or at least lower the dose.
However, now swollen and triumphant, Ms Bidisha concludes,
I’m not saying we’re on the brink of a third world war, but why am I reading these messages into this film, at this moment?
Readers wishing to suggest answers can, of course, avail themselves of the comments.
but why am I reading these messages into this film, at this moment?
I hope, for her sake, that this is rhetorical.
We can… empathise with the mangy Lion, rusty Tin Man and under-stuffed Scarecrow’s search for organ donors and reliable medical support in an Oz without a solid welfare state.
Peak Guardian?
I hope, for her sake, that this is rhetorical.
Sadly, it very well may not be.
Apocalyptic outrage is quite trendy at the moment. Hers seem a bit contrived – it appears she had to work a bit to wedge all that in – but I don’t doubt she thinks she feels it.
Wasn’t there a religious sect or something that used to work themselves into a frenzy as part of the worship? Or do I read too much sf/fantasy novels and am getting mixed up…
“but why am I reading these messages into this film, at this moment?”
I would venture that it is the result of mixing expensive medications with cheap whiskey.
I immediately thought of Hillary as the Wicked Witch of the West .
I denounce myself.
We can read the catastrophic effects of climate change into the tornado that sets the narrative off…
Yes, “we” could, OTOH, given the book was written in 1900, we could also realize that maybe tornadoes in Kansas are not exactly a new phenomenon.
…but why am I reading these messages into this film, at this moment?
My best clinical estimate would be either you are a hopelessly self absorbed idiot desperately seeking relevance, having a psychotic break, or both.
I’d call her essay “sophomoric,” except that would insult high school sophomores.
I’m not saying that chemtrails are real, but why does there seems to be so much insane torture of analogies parading around as journalism?
I’m not saying it’s aliens…
Peak Guardian?
I’m not sure there is a state of Peak Guardian. There don’t appear to be any limiting factors. Maybe it just falls inwards, forever.
I believe Damian posted this same article here…
https://thompsonblog.co.uk/2018/12/im-only-thinking-of-you.html?cid=6a00d83451675669e2022ad3a4cf57200d#comment-6a00d83451675669e2022ad3a4cf57200d
I believe Damian posted this same article here…
Ah. Missed that one. Though I do read most of the comments here, time and stamina permitting.
The values of Oz are not much different from those of Kansas in… 2018… the film revels in the violent deaths of “ugly” women
Wut?
Wut?
Even by the standards of the Guardian’s comment pages, where analogies are routinely strained to breaking point and beyond, Bidisha’s argument is hard to fathom. Perhaps she’s equating the relief of many voters that Hillary Clinton lost an election with a delight in women being crushed under tons of falling masonry.
I… really don’t know.
First they came for Charlie Brown, then ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’…
Wut?
Bearing in mind that the closest Miss Mamata ever came to Kansas was 35,000 feet as she flew over it, consider the source.
First they came for Charlie Brown, then ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’…
I think it’s fair to say, she’s not by default a cheery lass:
Ho ho ho.
And regarding the annual tin-eared misconstrual of Baby, It’s Cold Outside, which is itself now a tradition, I’ll just leave this here.
People are too quick to judge Bedlam hospital the way it was in the old days. It had its good points.
Baby, It’s Cold Outside
As noted before, the annual denunciation of the song is pretty much symbolic of woke posturing more generally. In that, the people doing the denouncing are typically relying on a simplistic, tin-eared construal, bleached of subtlety or historical context, and which actually inverts the intended sentiment and, in the name of feminism, robs the woman of agency. And so, you get dogmatic scolds, who, despite all the lyrical and musical clues, assume that the woman must be being drugged and sexually assaulted.
And they imagine they’re the clever ones.
And regarding the annual tin-eared misconstrual of Baby, It’s Cold Outside, which is itself now a tradition . . .
When I listen to that song, I’m struck by the fact that woman is actually in complete control of the situation. She knows what she wants and she knows how to get it. This isn’t an ode to Harvey Weinstein, Matt Lauer or any of the progressive, “woke,” male allies and their secret switches to lock doors or “go bags” of viagra.
“sickly US of today.”
So, all of the quintessential wonderfulness of the Obama reign just popped and vanished, like, well, like some ephemeral delusion? In a mere two years?
Say it ain’t so, Bids!
I think it’s fair to say, she’s not by default a cheery lass:
From the same twit stream…
Now, now Miss Mamata, show us on the doll where Christmas 2018 touched you…
I’ve noticed if a persons thinking is rotten, then the World seems rotten to them.
You are what you eat, and the World for you is as you see it.
When I listen to that song, I’m struck by the fact that woman is actually in complete control of the situation.
Well, quite. She’s certainly not a passive, put-upon victim. As Darleen said a while ago, it’s the lyrical equivalent of a tango.
The ability to see what isn’t combined with the inability to see what is has become the defining characteristic of the progressive.
Hormonal imbalance?
This is your weekly reminder that the Typepad spam filter can be a little twitchy. If you have trouble with comments not appearing, email me and I’ll tug at wires and generally flail about.
Wasn’t there a religious sect or something that used to work themselves into a frenzy as part of the worship?
The Shakers maybe. Or the Maenads.
Bearing in mind that the closest Miss Mamata ever came to Kansas was 35,000 feet as she flew over it, consider the source.
I’ve noticed that sort of obnoxious cluelessness from visiting credentialed Brits, but that makes them little different from the East Coast and West Coast snobs. Perhaps the chief difference is in who is more likely to quote the Graudiad as an implicitly authoritative source.
I can see why she’s so sensitive about the film. It wouldn’t take much makeup to go from this:
to this:
Lock up your little dogs my pretty!
Steve E, is that first picture a man?
The Wizard of Oz has always attracted loons—I remember reading in The Straight Dope that at the time it was published someone decided it was an allegory about going off the gold standard.
Frank Baum was a big-name occultist and the Oz books do contain various occultisms, if you know what to look for, which I don’t.
By the way, I’ve had to remove the Amazon Canada shopping link. Without going into the tedious and baffling details, being an affiliate of Amazon Canada seems to entail more complication and restriction than the UK and US companies, to the extent that the thing became much more trouble than it was worth. Canadian readers who wish to support this blog can, of course, make use of the PayPal button, which is actually preferred and much more helpful to me.
Pogonip, it’s a Bidisha. Which I believe may be Hindi for this:
being an affiliate of Amazon Canada seems to entail more complication and restriction
The same goes for being a customer of Amazon Canada.
The same goes for being a customer of Amazon Canada.
Heh. And yet I use Amazon Prime here in the UK all the time and have no complaints at all. I’d happily recommend it.
Bidisha(!) {Jazz Hands} ought to have been warned about the brown acid. I mean, there’s attempting a Dark Side of the Moon/ Wizard of Oz sync-up while stoned, and then there’s taking it too far.
I’m only half-joking: the hallucination, moroseness of a Pink Floyd-enhanced dream state, the miserable personality – a bad result from an attempt at one of the Standard Trips would explain it all. Pity she didn’t have her own Person from Porlock to shake the images out before she wrote it all down, though.
Bidisha(!) {Jazz Hands}
Heh. I’d forgotten about that one. Though I believe the correct form is
With Bidisha stressed rhythmically, like a drum-roll.
The one thing I always enjoy when I read someone like this hag. They are totally unhappy and miserable. They want their own perfect world (sans (conservatives) and that is impossible so they get miserable and destroy their own chances at happiness and I LOVE THAT ABOUT THEM. They entertain us with their misery. Fools.
Having a toddler I’ve now watched Wizard of Oz more times in the past 2 years than in all my previous combined, and I often find myself pondering dark thoughts and inventing subversive parody during repeat viewings, just for fun. So it’s interesting and sad that a someone does this for a (ostensible) living.
Also, Oz is a particularly strained metaphor for the oppressive patriarchy considering:
(1) It has a female lead. In 1939.
(2) While Dorothy needs help, she’s more confident and brave than her male compatriots. Again, in 1939.
(3) The villain is the witch, but the Wise Male Protagonist is a charlatan whose place in the story is to teach Dorothy that she always had the strength/courage/heart she seeks. Bidisha reads this nuanced lesson as “emptiness at it’s core”.
(4) In the pre-tornado first act – the one everyone forgets exists – the central conflict originates from a large benosed childless harpie who’s priggishness is so excessive that she cannot tolerate simple childhood joys. Hmmm…perhaps there are real life parallels…
(4) Seriously though, the conflict over Toto biting the prude is settled by said prude sitting down with Auntie Em – not the barely mentioned Uncle Henry – and negotiating over the dog’s life. In fact, Auntie Em exercises her matriarchal position and gives up the dog against the wishes of her husband. Again, IN 1939, PORTRAYING LIFE IN 1900. Did we ever even have this fucking patriarchy thing that modern witches go on about?
perhaps there are real life parallels…
Sailer’s Law of Female Journalism.
In the pre-tornado first act – the one everyone forgets exists…
Seriously, though. The tornado scene scared the crap out of me as a kid. I’d have nightmares about not being able to get to the basement. In fact, thanks to this post, I looked it up on YouTube. [Here]. It still gives me the willies.
I suppose that happens when you grow up in Tornado Alley.
Since their writers appear to orbit around stupidity itself, it’s always peak Guardian!
The tornado scene scared the crap out of me as a kid.
The tornado looming in the background is pretty impressive for 1939.
The villain is the witch, but the Wise Male Protagonist is a charlatan whose place in the story is to teach Dorothy that she always had the strength/courage/heart she seeks.
Heh. So the Wiz is of course a good guy. Perhaps I related this here a while back but on a certain Never Trumper’s blog frequented by many, many lawyer types, I got into a bit of a heated discussion with several of the lawyers there who insisted that The Wizard was a bad guy. Because charlatan. Therefore bad. And Trumpian. A couple people there, these are very smart people mind you, they’ll tell you so themselves because they been to big law schools and know all sorts of smart people stuff that only smart people really know, insisted that it was an allegory for the gold standard. They knew this because they learned it in school. College even. Advanced degrees they had. To their credit, the did relent on this latter point when I provided evidence (because of course my own logical argumentation was insufficient) from appropriate authorities that said allegory was a made-up myth. But they stuck with the Wizard is a Trump allegory. And oddly…or not…I decided I was good with that part anyway.
Also, Oz is a particularly strained metaphor for the oppressive patriarchy considering…
[ Slides sambuca-and-Night-Nurse cocktail along bar. ]
When our high school English teacher encouraged us to find underlying meanings in our texts, we would go overboard like this (outside of class). But we knew how ridiculous we were being.
When our high school English teacher encouraged us to find underlying meanings in our texts, we would go overboard like this
Our high school’s advanced (AP) English teacher was notorious for pointing out “Christ-like figures”. I wasn’t (prolly obvious from my posts) an AP English student but had all the AP English students in my other classes. It was the running joke outside of his class. Any character in a novel who had the initials “JC” was a Christ-like figure. Even though I wasn’t in his class and just ’cause I think it’s stupid, whether the author intended it or not, to this day I get a Pavlovian reaction to even non-fiction people such as Julius Caesar, Joan Crawford, John Cusack, John Cheever, Joseph Conrad, etc.
When our high school English teacher encouraged us to find underlying meanings in our texts, we would go overboard like this…
I had a ass. prof. in college who was going overboard about the hidden meaning of the words “King’s Highway” in a story until I pointed out that it was the name of a road in St. Louis, which happened to be the location in which the story was set.
Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, but I guess that doesn’t get one tenure, or a gig at the Guardian.
Oh my. I’m sitting in the Atlanta airport just now, between flights, and what, pray tell, do you think they’re playing?
Baby, it’s cold outside.
Hah!